The Powerpuff Girls: Declassified
by xbriannova
Summary: Sequel to Project Powerpuff: Declassified. The Powerpuff Girls: Declassified is a dark, gritty and mostly realistic re-imagining of The Powerpuff Girls. After finding their footing and redeeming themselves, earning the trust of many Townsville citizens, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup continues to fight crime in a calmer City of Townsville. However, something unseen threatens them.
1. Prologue: The Wail of Sirens

**(Note: To see the book cover, visit this fanfic on Archive of Our Own)**

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**'The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.' -Friedrich Nietzsche**

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'Before the wicked ones were punished for their sins, before the new Trinity has graced us with their holy light, there was complete, utter darkness. God, who gazed upon the battleground of good and evil, was displeased with man's way of keeping within his sins and follies, and so rose from his throne to wield, once more, his sword of creation.

And God said, 'Let man receive the gift of wisdom, intellect, and virtue.' His song brought forth the first of the Trinity. From the light emerged the first Angel of Justice, whose mind is sharper than cold steel, second to none except the Holy Father.

And God said, 'Let man receive the gift of love, kindness, and companionship.' His song brought forth the second of the Trinity. From the light emerged the second Angel of Justice, whose heart is purer than gold, second to none except the Holy Father.

And God said, 'Let man receive the gift of the will, strength, and energy.' His song brought forth the third of the Trinity. From the light emerged the third Angel of Justice, whose body is tougher than diamond, second to none except the Holy Father.

God looked upon his new Trinity and smiled. Sending them down to the battleground of good and evil, the Angels of Justice took to their work, restoring balance, spreading the good word through their actions.

For seven days, they learned the ways of man. For seven days, they suffered the cruelty of man. For seven days, they fought against the wicked. And finally, for seven days, they delivered justice against the wicked.

Then in the next seven days, the Angels of Justice rested and basked in the adoration and adulation of their worshipers, for in their wisdom, they knew that they had completed but one cycle of many …' - Book of George Extract from The New Trinity Bible, First Edition, 1989.

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**Prologue: Wail of Sirens**

**Townsville. The Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**{String corrupted} 1989 {String corrupted}**

The sky was overcast, darker than a normal night. A final snowstorm was blanketing everything in whiteness as if winter itself knew it was dying as it had gone into labor to birth spring. Snow fell in greater volumes. The fog hung a thin curtain over everything as if it knew that everyone on site could not afford to be distracted.

General Blackwater gripped the loudhailer in his hand as if he was holding tightly to an M1 Garand in the middle of World War II. He was completely decked out in next-generation SWAT gear, all the better to shield his important life from gunshots and shrapnel. In a way, the place and time he found himself in was just as pivotal a moment as the last days of World War II, back when he was in Berlin. For decades, Townsville had suffered, and the past few weeks had been hell for everyone, as the body of the city became overcame with fever as if to kill off the viruses and bacteria and parasites that had been infecting it for far too long.

He was seated on top of his command humvee, behind a machine-gun mounted on top of the roof. Around him were more humvees, off-white with the shield of the USDO - the United States Defence Organization - printed on their doors. There were even a few M60 Pattons, surplus main battle tanks acquired from the US military on the cheap, still fresh from purchase with the army green of the war machines' previous affiliation. Although outdated, they were nothing the criminal mobs in the city could hope to ever match, as even the Foundation - a terrorist organization that had been locked in a secret war with the USDO for decades - had never fielded such firepower before. It might seem like overkill, but with what they were facing - enhanced individuals capable of great feats of strength and speed and strange abilities - General Blackwater believed it was worth the financial and logistical cost.

Accompanying the USDO was the TPD - the Townsville Police Department - represented by dozens of blue police cruisers, SWAT vans, and buses. Squads of USDO SWAT soldiers and TPD SWAT officers were swarming forward, taking positions on the front, getting ready to storm the mansion before them.

They were at the Lombardi Family Estate. Everything they had done - months of hard work, sacrifice and losses sometimes severe - had led them up to this point when they could finally cut off the head of the snake.

"This is the USDO!" General Blackwater bellowed into his loudhailer. "We have you surrounded! Disarm yourselves and surrender peacefully or we will be forced to use overwhelming force!"

Silence. There was not even a single mobster at one of the many windows. Not even a slight movement. There were no gunshots. It was all too anti-climactic, and General Blackwater knew why. Climbing down from the side of his command humvee, the huge bear of a man landed on the snow heavily - he was sixty-something but his age wasn't showing, thanks to a combination of next-generation medicine and good genetics.

B-47, B-48, and B-49 had beaten them to it. He'd known the moment he saw through his binoculars the giant double doors of the mansion. They were flung wide open and left ajar. One of the twin oak giants was even knocked off its hinges. Like the gates into a fortress, if that was the case, then the fortress was likely breached.

"I'm scared for them," a familiar voice said from behind him, with shivering voice, likely from the cold. General Blackwater turned around. It was Professor Utonium, who was still in his lab coat, which wasn't exactly the best thing to wear in winter, even if the winter was nearing its end.

'How far the great Utonium has fallen', General Blackwater could only think. Months ago, he had been Head of Research for the USDO, but ever since accidentally creating B-47, B-48 and B-49, he had voluntarily taken it upon himself to raise the subjects of Project Powerpuff, demoting himself to a Field Researcher and dedicating himself to them. It was clear why the once-powerful man would do such a thing. Being a widower who had lost his only daughter too, Professor Utonium had instantly taken to the three subjects of Project Powerpuff. Was it love? Or simply a path to redemption? General Blackwater could never quite understand the man simply because they were two very different people.

"After all they've been through… After all, they've been put through," Professor Utonium continued, almost mumbling. He didn't look much better himself - and it was obvious why. It wasn't exactly a cakewalk for the polymath either. "They shouldn't have to suffer another second more. It's all my fault."

"You need to stop treating them like little girls. They're far more than that," General Blackwater declared gruffly. "They can take care of themselves."

"I can still remember a time when they couldn't, and it's not that far from now," Professor Utonium said, his voice shaking just as much from worry and fear, as it was from the cold. "I still remember it like it was yesterday when they couldn't even talk when they were still in diapers. Sometimes I wish they had to grow up like normal little kids."

"Do you want that for yourself, or them?" General Blackwater questioned the scientist as he pulled an assault rifle out of his vehicle. An XM4 Carbine - latest tech that even the US military did not have. In fact, there were many things that the USDO had that the US military could only dream of, and with the breakthroughs they'd been making - thanks largely to Professor Utonium and his research into Chemical X and its predecessors - they were fast approaching territories of technology that used to be science fiction. If their latest Project Powerpuff subjects weren't counted.

"I care nothing for myself," Professor Utonium contended. "Not after what I've done. I want the Girls to be happy - it's all I want. Sometimes, I'd even think that… They might even do better without me."

"Don't be stupid, Upton," the general growled at the professor. The irony that he was telling a leading intellectual that wasn't lost on him, though some would argue that he himself was an intellect in his own right, just that he specialized in the art of war. "If I can see that those three little kids and you need each other, then it shouldn't be a question for you too. The four of you are like a tightly-knit squad. One of you can't function without the other. You're going to have to learn how to let them go, however - eventually. Just not right now."

"That's funny, coming from a control freak like you," the professor retorted. He didn't like how the general was lecturing him. The General Blackwater, who wouldn't hesitate to deploy the Girls over and over again to achieve whatever objectives he had in mind, with little regard for the Girls' well-being. He hated the man for that. "I'm going in there with you. Ready when you are."

"The hell you are! You know how important you are to the Girls and the USDO!" General Blackwater refused.

"You're going to need a doctor, Blackwater. The Girls might need a doctor," Professor Utonium countered. "I've heard about what the Amoeba Boys have accomplished, felt it personally, and we've all fallen for it. They have something up their sleeves, I just know it. I'm afraid for the Girls."

"Fine. You've always had your way, Upton, and so you will this time," General Blackwater said. "You prepared?"

"Always. For my Girls," the professor said. He reached below his lab coat and unholstered a pistol. Once upon a time, it'd been a danger to himself and the Girls. Now, it might just be the thing that could save them. General Blackwater scanned him from head to toe. The professor had a bullet-resistant vest on as well.

"Just keep your head down. The Girls may not go down easy, but one bullet to your brain and they'd definitely go down crying," General Blackwater said. He then turned to his captains - and he had brought in the finest and most veteran of them all, those who had been with the USDO when it was still the Organization and had been on numerous missions going back up a decade or more. "Let's move into the hot zone! Brick, you and Sierra-Tango-One on me! PTF, give me an Alpha-Two before the rest of us head in. Butch, lead Sierra-Tango-2 and Sierra-Tango-3 and back us up. Boomer, you and Sierra-Tango-Four are on reserve in case the surrounding forces need reinforcement."

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**20 Minutes Earlier…**

A tri-colored streak of light raced across the sky of Townsville, screaming towards the outskirts of it, towards a prominent building occupying many acres on the boundary between urban civilization and the wild countrysides. Far behind them, the wail of sirens and the red and blue flashing lights of authority shouted the USDO and police's intentions to catch up. It would be a long time before they do. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had grown strong over the months, and they were close to breaking the sound barrier by the time they were homing in on their object of revenge. Their light shines ever brighter, the 'X-energy contrails' the result of waste energy expelled as light through the burning of Chemical X in their blood.

They were mad, really mad. Even Bubbles, the sweetest and most forgiving of the three, wore a frown on her face, one that advertised only deadly consequences. The memory of what had happened was still fresh on their minds, and they had too many bad things to remember, whether they'd occurred just hours ago or months ago. It was time to make sure it wouldn't happen again, that they wouldn't have to remember anymore bad events in the foreseeable future.

They didn't wait when they got to the mansion. They plough through the double-doors of the old mansion with their shoulders, their 'sister-sense' allowing such synchronized feats at such critical moments. It was only when they were inside that they stopped… Briefly. They were greeted by a Grand Foyer with two great, curved stairwells leading up to a second floor. The stairwells were filled with what were essentially rows upon rows of firing squads, composed of members of the numerous gangs in Townsville, now all under the leadership of the Lombardi. The Italians, Sicilians, Russians, Chechens, Jewish Mafia, Black Mafia… The diversity of criminals had only served to remind the Girls, Blossom most of all, of their past mistakes.

As if as a show of force, more men showed up behind the banisters of the second-floor corridors overlooking the main hall, cocking their weapons. The familiar trench coats and fedora of the typical American and Italian gangsters were most familiar, with the Yakuza in their smart business suits and the flashy and trendy rugged look of the Chinese Triads accompanying them. Even Blossom would be lying if she were to say that she wasn't intimidated - she had fought dozens before, not hundreds. Bubbles was outright terrified, her forehead already streaking with sweat, her eyes betraying that fear. Only Buttercup remained optimistic, though that word would be lost on her. She flashed a killer smile to match the mob's, ready to do battle with them.

Three men stood waiting for them in the center of the grand foyer, one burly and smoking a cigar, exuding the confidence of a leader, the next slim but looking slimy, and a third who was short but looked like he had far more up his sleeves than he could physically pack. Bossman, the bruiser type, was armed with a Tommy-gun that had been in the Lombardi crime family for forty years, passed down from one crime boss to the next. Slim had an M16, likely bought from a corrupted army officer, and Junior had a pair of Uzis. They looked human, but the three Girls knew exactly what they were underneath.

"If it isn't the Powerpuff Girls," Bossman greeted Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, who glared at him with a kind of look that could kill. "Are you three here to kill us or get your manicure done?" Slim and Junior sniggered at the remark, and it'd pushed the Girls' buttons. Hard. Blossom gritted her teeth while a tear streaked down Bubbles' cheek as she, too, stared daggers at the heads of the Lombardi family. Buttercup alone remained stoic, her killer smile disappearing.

"We were friends back then, don't you remember?" Bossman continued and turned to his fellow Amoeba Boys. "Right Slim, Junior?" They acknowledged their leader's words mischievously.

"We were never friends," Blossom growled at Bossman as she stomped forward, who only smiled dismissively at her. Blossom, being a little girl, even if enhanced, could only bite harder than she bark, and the Amoeba Boys knew it.

"Funny, 'course I remember us lunching together, not too long ago," Bossman revealed and his flankers giggled, spiting the Girls and they knew it. Blossom clenched her fists harder, so hard that she could feel her nails digging into her palm. "Yeah, you've even slept in my bed. It was awfully comfy, ain't it? You looked cute when you're asleep, by the way."

Blossom felt like she could explode - she had never felt such anger, betrayal, and shame in her entire life before. It was all because of the Amoeba Boys that the city had turned against them, the Powerpuff Girls. Visibly shaking, Blossom could feel tears of rage streaming down her cheeks as she closed her eyes, counting backward from ten to zero, just like how Daddy taught her. And it worked. Sort of. She opened her eyes.

"Oh, we remember alright. It was a mistake," Blossom said as she took another step forward. The room resounded with the metal clacking of guns getting cocked, ready to shoot. "We're taking you in-"

"-Amoeba boys!" Bubbles completed Blossom's sentence for her. She had stepped up next to her. Buttercup too, who was shaking with anticipation.

"Can I kill them? I'd like to kill them," Buttercup said, no longer taking pains to hide her lust for blood and violence.

"No, Buttercup! Haven't you learned anything yet?" Blossom chided her wayward sister. "We can't be like them! Isn't it bad enough the last time!?"

"Yeah, Blossom, keep your bitch sister on a leash," Bossman mocked the opposing leader. "You should know how. You've learned from the best. You've learned from me. I sure kept a leash on you." At this, Slim and Junior laughed again, already assailing the Girls before any shots were fired. The Girls were taken aback by the foul language, too. Professor Utonium had taught them better.

"Haha, nice one, boss. 'bitch sister', haha," Junior, less important next to his biggest brother-in-crime, laughed.

"You'll be eating soap for the rest of your time in prison, Amoeba Boys!" Blossom warned.

"We'll give you one more chance, Amoeba Boys!" Bubbles continued after Blossom.

"Drop your weapons or else!" Buttercup threatened, though her warning was less than genuine. She wanted a fight, and if the Amoeba Boys came quietly, there wouldn't be one. Not that she believed they would do so – even a 5-year-old could see that, and she wasn't too far from being one.

"Else what? You're going to fight me in that pretty little dress of yours?" Bossman Taunted again. "What? Isn't Mommy there to wash your little SWAT costume?"

Blossom knew that Bossman would set Buttercup off with that taunt. She immediately took hold of her by the arm when Buttercup launched forward.

"Lemme have him!" Buttercup screamed as she strained against Blossom's grasp. "I'll kill him!"

The Amoeba Boys weren't cowed by Buttercup's threat. Slim especially, since he had personally defeated and drowned Buttercup in seawater before. Blossom leaned closer to Buttercup. "Buttercup, stop," she whispered into her ear. "I think we'll have to fight them, but we do it my way."

"Well, are you three giving up or not?" Blossom said to the Amoeba Boys. Bossman stayed silent.

"Oh fine, you got me, I'm so scared," Bossman said sarcastically, before suddenly lowering his Tommy-gun and pointing it at Blossom. "How 'bout I give you my gun one bullet at a time, kiddo!? I'll decorate your pink dress with some shiny lead!"

"Buttercup, right! Bubbles, left!" Blossom screamed her orders, which were followed promptly by her sisters, who darted up into the air at high speeds, leaving behind a baby blue and light green trail behind them.

Bossman opened fire after that. Slim and Junior followed suit. Blossom knelt down on a knee and did a cross-block with her arms – better her arms than face and chest. A pink X-energy shell appeared before her. The stream of bullets did not let up immediately, and when she was hit by too many, her shell broke, and some had slipped past her arms, Blossom held on even as Bossman fulfilled his promise, and decorated her pink dress with some shiny lead. Bullets rained down from above as well, and Blossom knew that something had to be done about the weather.

The moment the torrent of bullets from the front let up, Blossom charged up her eyes, letting the heat build as her tears turned to steam, and within the space of a second, let off a twin beam of Chemical X enhanced heat beam. Sweeping the beams across the second floor, she'd forced the gangsters above to duck, scramble and run for cover, as she burned the ancient architecture with her rage.

Buttercup bowled into her side of the hall, into the gallery of men arrayed on the right stairwell. She was too fast, and even against a wall of bullets, relatively few had struck her. Dozens shredded her dress as she tackled several men at once. Getting up, she upper-cut a Russian gangster in the elbow when he pointed his pistol at her, shattering it. In a fluid motion, as half a dozen other bad guys were struggling to aim and shoot at her, Buttercup drove her foot into another man's chest, breaking every bone in it with a loud series of sickening crunches, pulverizing heart and lungs. This slowed her momentum, and soon, she could feel the angry sting of multiple assault weapons on her back, though the only thing hurt was her dress and psyche.

Whirling around, her eyes became red, as if in anger made manifest, and a pair of laser beams swept past a dozen gangsters. Half of them fell backward with deep lacerations through stomach or chest cavity, blood staining everything - the others collapsed where they were, with one of them holding his intestines before his eyes.

Bubbles on the left stairwell had circled around her fifty or so opponents instead, who fired into the air at her, but she was too fast that only a tiny fraction of the bullets had hit home. Zipping behind them, she had outmaneuvered the column of gun-toting gangsters and landed at the top of the stairs, most of whom were on lower steps and couldn't even see past their higher friends. Charging into the gangsters, she pushed them down the stairs, causing cascades of gangsters rolling down to the foot.

But not all of them were caught in the human waterfall. A Sicilian mafioso pointed his shotgun at Bubbles, but she pushed the gun out of the way before he could fire, mainly out of fear of the weapon, before punching him out and sending him tumbling down the stairs with his friends. Another Sicilian pointed a Scorpion submachine gun at her, but he was too close - he could only get a few shots off before she was right up his face, delivering a sucker punch at him and sending him rolling down with the rest of them.

Blossom charged towards the Amoeba Boys immediately after she had set fire to the entire second floor, but their sustained fire had slowed her down as she needed to cover her face. Backtracking, the leaders of the Lombardi crime family retreated towards a door between the hall's grand staircases, replaced by another group of gangsters, this time heavily armed with machine guns of various make meant for suppressing hundreds in a war.

Opening fire, they pushed Blossom back, before another Italian mobster came forward with a rocket-propelled grenade launcher on his shoulder, which Blossom noticed too late - when the rocket grenade was fired at her. All she could do was to throw her arms up in front of her once more, but she felt it in her shoulder.

An explosion resulted. Buttercup and Bubbles turned from where they were to look at their leader sister, but all they could see in her place was smoke. The machine gunners stopped while the gangster with his RPG began sticking a new rocket grenade in its tube. It was a bad mistake on their part. From the smoke, two red, glowing orbs appeared, before two heat rays, their paths made clearly visible by dust and smoke, shot at the gangsters who'd hurt her, tracing a path across several of them, burning them and knocking them out.

Buttercup returned her attention back to battle when it was apparent with a bullet bouncing off her skull that it wasn't over on her side. Flying towards the shooter, she smacked aside his pistol arm, sending the pistol flying across the hall, and gave him a multi-ton punch in the jaw. The sound of bones shattering and teeth scattering on the floor sent shivers of thrill and excitement up Buttercup's spine. Rebuilding her teeth collection, however, would have to come later as she could feel a spray of bullets down her back. Warping elsewhere with her near-sound-barrier speed of flight, she fired a well-placed laser eyebeam at her attacker, straight to his neck. The gangster was beheaded immediately, with his head bouncing down the steps. His body's hand had reached up to his neck, only to find that there nothing above the neck left, squirting blood. The body collapsed after that.

There were still more gangsters on Bubbles' side - she had merely sent half of them tumbling down the stairs like bowling pins in a party game. Flying backward, she surveyed the human terrain, which was when she could feel goosebumps.

Duranium.

One of the bad guys had it. Even as bullet rattled off her while she threw up her arms in self-defense, she searched them with her keen eyes for any sign of Duranium - after getting shot one too many times with it, she had developed some kind of sense for detecting it, as arcane as it sounded. Even her Dad couldn't fully explain it yet. That was when she saw it - something shimmering vaguely in the sniper rifle of one of the thugs as if the chamber of the gun was invisible.

Before she was prepared, the Duranium Thug fired his Girl-Killer shell. Bubbles burst with energy at the same time, throwing up a baby blue bubble of protection around her - a bit of an overkill, but she still remembered how she nearly died from a couple of Duranium bullets, and it wasn't pleasant.

The Duranium shell punched through her light blue Chem-X shield regardless, burying itself in her chest, with blood spraying out. In response, she sucked in a prodigious amount of air, and let loose a deafening scream, breaking any glass windows that were intact, blowing eardrums and knocking the remaining gangsters she was fighting down.

Blossom, in the meantime, emerged out of the smoke after that like a jet airplane, her dress still on fire, charging into her attackers. She'd only held back just enough not to kill them, first knocking men into the cold, hard walls of the cold, hard mansion they were defending, then beating the snot out of the rest, who could only panic and fire wild shots at the indestructible girl at close quarters, doing absolutely nothing but enraging the red-head who was both literally and figuratively on fire. She took the last man standing by the collar and threw him to the ceiling, knocking the wind out of him as he crashed into it chest-first. The fall did the rest and knocked him unconscious - and possibly breaking his back. Blossom could hear a sickening crack, but she cared little because of how much pain they'd caused her - both during and before this battle.

Panting and shaking, Blossom finally landed, before heading back to the center to see her sisters. She patted down the fire that was still burning through her pink dress, realizing in dismay that the top-left quarter of it was completely burnt off, leaving the dress hanging only by a blackened shoulder and the belt. Half the remaining fabric was a sooty black, leaving very little pink left. The rest of her dress was pockmarked with holes; she couldn't just see it, she could feel it as it was colder than before. The undergarment covering her chest survived, albeit singed with spots of black and brown and holes as well. One of her socks was similarly burned up, turning it from a knee-high sock to a calf-length sock. Both of her socks were a mix of white, brown and black. Her red bow was singed, and one of its ears was slightly disfigured, tattered. Queasy and lethargic from having expended some of her X energy, she searched the right staircase for Buttercup to find her approaching a wounded Italian gangster dragging himself away from her, clutching a broken leg that was bent the wrong way in multiple places, the result of Buttercup's ruthless policy of zero compassion for crime. Buttercup took her time, watching with glee how frightened her plaything was.

"No! Please! Don't kill me!" the Italian begged before he met the wall in his futile effort to get away. He pressed himself against it, leaning on it, a look of abject horror in his face. "Mercy!"

Buttercup, however, did not appear to have heard him, coming closer step by step, a victorious, unbridled smirk on her face. She particularly liked the way the once proud and confident mobster was now begging for her to show mercy. She loved how the blood of the gangster's friends was spattered all over her dress, all over her. The warm blood felt good on her skin. She loved the sensation of the bloody teeth in her fist - more souvenir to add to her collection.

"Here, doggy, doggy…" Buttercup taunted the wounded gangster with a vicious smile that'd spread from ear to ear, her voice shivering with ecstasy as she raised a fist, only to feel a hand seizing her by the wrist.

"Buttercup! Stop!" it turned out to be Blossom, who immediately shot a mild heat ray at the hurt gangster to knock him out. "Did you kill all of them?"

"Well…" Buttercup said, unsure if she should tell her sister. They both turned to look at her handiwork. The men on the right stairwell were all motionless except perhaps one, or two. They strewn about the scene randomly, their bodies broken, and it was clear who had twisted them. "Not all of them, I think…"

In the middle of the grand foyer, Buttercup had met her with damage to her dress as well, which was full of holes and scorch marks from the gunshots. There was a rip on her right side where she had sustained the most bullet impacts. Despite this, she didn't look as worn out as Blossom. In fact, she looked energized from all the fighting she had done, from all the manslaughter she had committed.

"It's wrong to kill, Buttercup," Blossom lectured her sister, though the confidence in her voice was drained. "Dad said so himself."

"Even after what they did to us?" Buttercup countered, folding her arms after stealthily depositing her collected teeth into a pocket. "After what they did to Mom? To Blake and the rest? What about Olivia And Mullens? They'd hurt them badly, and we should do the same! It's fair!"

Blossom was actually tempted by thoughts of revenge, and Buttercup was particularly good at that, drawing the darkness from inside her. For a moment, she stayed silent, fighting this darkness in her, closing her eyes as she struggled with it in her.

"No," Blossom simply said.

"No? Blossom! It was because of them that-" Buttercup was about to add another name to the list when Blossom exploded on her.

"DON'T YOU DARE BRING HER UP!" Blossom screamed like a mad girl when she figured out quickly who Buttercup was going to mention. It was so sudden that even Buttercup was taken aback. Blossom, however, on seeing Buttercup's reaction, realized that she had gone too far.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you. It's… It's just-" Blossom apologized, but she was unable to finish her sentence before her traumatizing losses caught up with her - especially when it concerned HER. She whimpered in pain as she felt fresh tears on her face.

"Blossom... It's not your fault. You didn't know," Buttercup comforted her sister, gave her a hug - she'd changed for the better recently, ever since she'd returned after running away. Blossom couldn't explain it - no one could, really - but she wasn't about to question it. She'd put it down to Buttercup getting wiser with a change of perspective after living on the streets for a while, and it sure beat the old Buttercup who wouldn't hesitate to strangle her.

Unbeknownst to Blossom, Buttercup was wearing a psychotic smile, but Blossom could not see it while she was embracing her.

"I should've listened to her," Blossom cried, into Buttercup's shoulder. Buttercup patted her on the back before Blossom let go, stifling her cries and sucking it up, locking her tears away. "I- I'm fine... We needed saving back then, and t-there's no one to save in this house. You could have tapped those men and they'd still go down. Like what Bubbles probably-"

Just the mere mention of Bubbles' name has had Blossom remember about her other sister's welfare. She'd been so caught up with her own miseries that she'd shamefully neglected the sweetest of them all.

"Buttercup, where's Bubbles?" Blossom asked while she was still drying her cheeks, noticing that her blue-eyed sister was missing. She clutched her head - she could feel a headache coming on. They were invulnerable to (almost all) physical threats from punches and kicks to even anti-tank shells, yes, but their minds were relatively fragile. Blossom remembered that the professor had warned them just as much, and too much pain from enough physical attacks could be bad for them - and Blossom was discovering that, again. She felt like vomiting and fainting. Buttercup held her up. The RPG was the worst - for an instant, it felt as if she really was blown apart, only to remain whole.

"I'm fine," Blossom said. She was able to swallow the urge to vomit, and she looked around the place, the left stairwell, where she'd ordered her to. It pained her every time she had to do that, knowing that Bubbles had never taken well to crime-fighting.

"Bubbles! Where are you!? We gotta go kick some butts!" Buttercup yelled.

They didn't have to search for long. They'd seen her sitting on the steps of the left stairwell, clutching her chest, her face pale, her other hand holding onto the banister as she leaned on it. There was blood where her hand was.

"Bubbles!" Blossom cried as she flew to her. "It's all my fault! I'm so sorry!"

Bubbles lifted her head with difficulty to regard her lovingly. She smiled at her to reassure her, but the fact that she couldn't even speak made it a moot effort. She was a mess. Her dress was similarly powdered with black and riddled with holes. One of her pigtails had come undone, probably ruined by a stray bullet through the ribbon.

Blood was spreading over the chest of her baby blue dress.

"Bubbles! What did they do!?" Buttercup came up next, appearing concerned despite her earlier revelry in destruction.

"Duranium bullet…" Bubbles uttered. "One of them had it. We- we have to go." She tried standing up, but pain shot up in her chest, where she was shot. Her face scrounged up in pain when she tried to move. The bullet hadn't gone in deep owing to her protective bubble, but it was still the mother of all pain. With few things being capable of penetrating the Girls' flesh, whenever something did, it was almost certain to be excruciating.

"Bubbles - just sit down, Bubbles. You can't go on like this," Blossom gently lowered Bubbles back down to the step she was sitting on. Looking at her, she didn't think that Bubbles could continue deeper into the Lombardi mansion. They had fought hard right at the beginning, but there was still more to be done. Knowing the Amoeba Boys and what they had done, the guns they had brought to bear on them was only the beginning. There were harder foes than a bunch of ordinary criminals in there - Blossom was certain. It would be an uphill battle to clear their name and bring justice to the right people, but it had to be done. The wailing of police sirens catching up to them told them so.

"Blossom, we need Bubbles to keep fighting! It can't just be the two of us! Blossom!?" Buttercup said, but Blossom had sunk into herself and she could not hear.

Doubt began filling Blossom when she realized the condition they were in - the condition Bubbles was in, versus the trials ahead. The entire city was against them - but it wasn't always like that. Blossom couldn't help but to think back to the earlier days, when they were loved by all, when, for a time, they had earned their happy ending after fighting off a terrorist attack in Morbucks Industries Research Laboratory.

Reaching deep into her heart, Blossom thought back to those happier times, perhaps to find her strength there…

* * *

**A/N: Didn't think Rossowinch would post the cover up so soon, so I decided to release The Powerpuff Girls: Declassified a little earlier. Well, I'd say it's a blessing in disguise because it means you guys get to read it early and I get to enjoy going full speed ahead in terms of writing the story earlier, and I honestly couldn't wait to work on it like how I used to work on Project Powerpuff: Declassified.**


	2. Chapter 1: Interregnum

**Chapter 1: Interregnum**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Louis Street. Joe's Pawnshop.**

**2 FEB 1989 (Thursday). 2017.**

Deep within the city center, Townsville continued pulsing with activity. Cars roared down the highway and honked on the road whenever there was a jam. The citizens of Townsville strolled at their leisure on the sidewalks that stretched into the distance. Buskers played one genre of music or another, in exchange for a coin or note from one kind stranger or another. Restaurants and bars were wild with laughter and various sorts of entertainment. Trains swooped through tunnels, screaming from station to station, unimpeded.

In any other city, this would have been considered normal. In Townsville, it was a blessing. For the first time in two decades, the people of Townsville could go about their business without the oppressive fear of crime. The song of the city, for the first time in a generation, did not contain explosions and gunshots and terrified screams every other day.

Crime had taken a nosedive ever since the new year, and it was as if the city had, collectively, decided to act on its new year resolution. Official statistics from the police indicated a 60% drop in major crimes, including the activities of organized crime, and 55% in minor offenses in January compared to previous months. But everyone knew who to thank - not that they had a name for them yet. Most refer to them as The Three, though bad memories had diminished the popularity of that name. A new cult which had sprung up in the city had christened them The New Trinity. Some among the numbers of both cultists and regular citizens alike had taken to calling them the Angels of Justice. The USDO was being pressured to give an official name, but most knew to call them Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup, and most citizens by now knew which was which.

The USDO had gotten in on the act, claiming responsibility for some of the Girls' reputation. Their new media wing had been blasting out articles and advertisements to improve public relations, some of which involved the Girls. For a few times in January, they had to attend photo and video shoots.

Further away from the city center, Townsville's downtown area was quieter, but just as safe(r). At Louis Street, for instance, there was almost no activity as it was known to be a commercial street, with rows of convenience stores, grocers, bookshops and a rather successful pawnshop, all of which had closed for the night, as it was the tradition of that locale.

The night was quiet until it wasn't… When a masked man fell from the roof of Joe's Pawnshop and onto a car below, screaming for his life until the crunch of windshield breaking and metal bending took over. An alarm sounded throughout the pawnshop, however, drowning out the noise inside the building.

"Isn't Johnny supposed to deactivate the alarms from the rooftop?" a robber in a ski mask hiding behind a counter said. He had a revolver in his hand, and he was on the lookout for his friend, another thug in a ski mask, hunched over a safe as he was turning the dial.

"Don't matter. I know the code to Joe's safe," the safe-cracking robber said. "Poor schmuck's too trusting of me. We'll be gone in a minute."

"Where the hell's Johnny anyway? Shouldn't he be down here by now with Joe's stash?" another robber at a display asked. He went on to smash the glass, before greedily scooping up jewelry and expensive watches up and depositing them into a camping backpack.

"Man, I don't like this," a fourth robber said as he was packing antiques into a burlap sack on the opposite end of the shop from the jewelry-stashing robber. "What if them Threes are here?"

"Ain't no chance of that," the first robber said. "There's three of them and one big city. We stand a bigger chance of hitting the jackpot on the Townsville lottery than runnin' into them."

"Things still don't feel right, man," the fourth robber said. The first robber, who was the leader, scoffed with annoyance at his doubtful co-conspirator.

"That right? Then why don't you guard the door and make it feel right," the robber leader ordered, before feeling his annoyance double when the alarm was still ringing and the fifth member of his crew was still missing. "And where the fuck is Johnny!?"

That was when the glass doors of Joe's Pawnshop shattered as if spontaneously, and the fourth robber, who was moving to guard the door, was sent flying across the shop and behind the counter, ruining the shelves mounted on the wall and landing next to the safecracking robber there, who had just hit the jackpot when the safe was opened. He didn't wake up after his flight across the pawnshop.

It was dark, but they could see the silhouette of a small being floating, then landing on the floor, and it was no bigger than a very young child. What wasn't very normal was the piercing eyes glowing in the dark, glowing fiercely pink, sending shivers down the spine of all the robbers who had turned to look. Those who hadn't had a gun or weapon in their hands drew them.

"Your friend couldn't make it," the small being said. "I think my sister dropped him too hard." If nothing else, it sounded sincere and nice, given the circumstances. "Put the guns down and I'll go easy on the rest of you."

"It's t-t-t-the-" the jewelry robber couldn't even finish his sentence - the rest of his body, too, was as frozen as his mouth. His double-barrelled hunting shotgun shook in his hands. The robber leader, however, was a little more daring. "T-three!" The stuttering robber finally managed.

"I count only one," the robber leader said, then pointed his revolver at the glowing pink eyes, which were already burning holes into his mind. It took his all to resist the fear the eyes were put in him, but he would be remembering those eyes for the rest of his life. "You know, I doubt you're as good as they say." He cocked his revolver. "The guys on top sure love to spin stories to keep us bottom folks in line. I bet you're not exactly bulletproof."

"There's actually the three of us," Blossom corrected the robber leader, and as soon as she did, a baby blue streak of light entered the shop, followed by a light green equivalent. Two more silhouettes stood before the display windows of the shop. A pair of light blue glowing eyes and light green glowing eyes flanked the pink ones after that.

The light was flicked on - the safe cracking robber had done it, thinking that things would look better in the light. It didn't.

The light had only revealed the owners of the three pairs of eyes in their fullest glory. Blossom stood at the center, her arms akimbo. Her uniform had changed over the past month, incorporating a red skirt over her fatigue pants, topped by her usual red military fatigue top. Her SWAT armor was now issued in black, the same as her sisters. She had stopped using a helmet and a pair of combat goggles a long time ago. Her fiery orange hair flowed down her back, crowned by a red bow, now back in its original position, as opposed to being taped playfully to the back of a helmet.

Bubbles stood on Blossom's left. Owing to the rule that she would always break out in cold sweat whenever there was action, she had opted to get rid of her fatigue top for comfort, coming only with a tank top underneath her SWAT armor. She had even removed the upper arms of her armor for greater comfort. Like Blossom, her helmet and goggles were gone - all the better to air her head… and her well-brushed hair, which hung in pigtails falling on either side of her head.

Buttercup stood on Blossom's right, her arms folded. She had grown fond of her soldier outfit and removed nothing from it except the restrictive helmet. She was the only one of The Three who came with more than just a pistol. Blossom might have disallowed her from bringing her Stoner Light Machinegun along, but on Buttercup's back hung her tried-and-true MP5 submachinegun. Not that the toughest of The Three required it. Smiling maniacally at the robbers, she thought, in fact, that they were slim pickings. Hardly a challenge to warrant the use of a firearm. She didn't want to have to clean it at home.

"Shoot them!" the robber leader screamed, his voice a little high-pitched than normal.

"Bubbles, shotgun! Buttercup, with me!" Blossom ordered before flying towards the robber leader, reaching him in a blink of the eye. Buttercup followed and winded up a punch along the way before delivering it at the safe cracking robber. It sent him hurtling into a shelf of candies and cookies.

Bubbles zipped towards the third robber with the shotgun, but he was quicker with his hands, as terrified as he was. He fired a double shot, which made Bubbles' flinch and blink, but the shots went overhead, with some pellets sliding past her hair, messing them up. Jumping up at him, she sent him to the ceiling with an upper-cut in a panic, before regretting it and catching him as gravity sent him plummeting to the ground. Her heart was racing – old fears had been exhumed and given new life.

Blossom made for the robber leader's revolver. He was able to fire a single round before he could feel the enhanced little girl's small hand wrapping around the barrel. While standing on the counter, she pulled the robber out from his hiding spot and threw him out, sending him tumbling at the center of the shop, minus his revolver, which Blossom had torn from his hands. With her enhanced dexterity, she field-stripped the weapon on the spot within seconds, pulling it apart and dropping the various components all around as she did.

Turning around, she jumped off the counter and calmly walked up to the robber, who was petrified by the whole ordeal and couldn't even so much as sit up – though it was just as well that he didn't dare as it would have warranted a kick from Blossom.

Without a word, she pelted the robber leader's face with the bullet he'd fired into her hand with an annoyed frown, and just as he stared at her in disbelief – realizing that she was bulletproof after all – she knocked him out with a kick to the face.

"I just hate getting shot at," Blossom quipped before examining her hand. There was a hole in her glove, but she thought it would be good for another firefight or two. She did hate to waste. Turning around, she had to check on her sisters. Buttercup was just about prepared to throw in her share of the casualties - which she did by dragging him over the counter like how a cat would drag a carcass before tossing him down next to the robber leader.

"That was too easy," Buttercup boasted. "Can I kill him though?"

Blossom folded her arms and glared at her wayward sister. Although Buttercup had been obedient over the past month and killed no one (as far as she knew), she would not brook any unnecessary deaths even with the criminals, nor challenges to her policy.

"I was just kidding, Blossom," Buttercup said, and on feeling a facial tic coming on from the blood drought as of late, cracked her best smile to hide it and deceive her sister. It wasn't the kind of smile to win the crowds. Blossom knew her best, and though Buttercup was the best among the three at deception, could detect that the smile was not genuine. "Why so serious?"

Blossom rolled her eyes at Buttercup before turning to Bubbles, who was leaning against the wall. Her hair was a mess, with some strands loose from her right pigtail – and Blossom knew Bubbles very well. Just like her, she had developed some obsession with her hair. She knew that something was off when she didn't put it right post-combat.

The pink-eyed girl came up to her shaken sister. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a concerned hand on her shoulder. Bubbles looked up at her and smiled, her lips trembling.

"I'm fine," Bubbles said, even though she wasn't. She didn't want to go back to a time over a month ago when she was the team let-down, the 'coward' and the 'useless' one, as Buttercup would put it every so often. Inside, however, she was a mess. Her heart was just about ready to press the eject button, and memories of before kept flashing before her eyes. The first time she was shot – and knocked out – with a shotgun. Getting the lead pellets again at a Lombardi warehouse front. Or even eating a bullet literally when General Blackwater thought her to be a deserter and betrayer of her sisters. She had used a shotgun once, only to end up causing a stampede that injured many at a protest in front of the USDO headquarters.

Just then, a large convoy of police cruisers and SWAT vans drove up to the pawn shop front. The USDO – the United States Defence Organization – had a presence as well, though it was small compared to the Townsville Police Department whom they had partnered with to keep the city safe and relatively free of crime.

SWAT officers and USDO soldiers poured out of their vans and Humvees respectively, as police officers and security officers took up static positions behind their cruisers. It was all unnecessary with crime in the city having dwindled to more than half of what it used to be, but both law enforcement agencies were too stubborn to adjust after so many years of urban warfare and too many veterans among their ranks.

The Girls came forward to greet the men coming in to clean up; a team of SWAT officers and a squad of USDO soldiers, followed by a pair of plainclothes who brought a smile to their faces. Detective Mullens, recently promoted to lieutenant, as well as his daughter and assistant, Officer Olivia, recently made a detective.

"Hello, Girls," the older detective greeted.

"Hello, Mister Mullens," the Girls returned the greeting with toothy smiles, in unison. The old detective was smiling, but it soon became less than genuine when the Girls replied the way they did. He was still unused to the way the Girls seemed to sync their actions and words at times.

"Did you see us beat up the bad guys?" Buttercup asked in anticipation, seeking approval, which was the next best thing.

"We saw the guy outside alright," Detective Mullens said. "Hell of a welcome sign to put up."

"Oh no! Is he okay?" Bubbles gasped after remembering the robber Buttercup 'dropped', or more accurately, tossed from the ceiling.

"He'll be fine. Just a few broken bones, at least," Olivia said. "Okay, maybe more than a few, but he's breathing and stable."

Blossom turned to glare at Buttercup again, and all the green-eyed Angel of Justice could do was to flash a guilty smile back at Blossom. At the same time, it was more of a victory smile – Buttercup did not kill a man, but she got to do a bit of damage at least, even if it was just a drop of blood next to the blood bath she wanted.

"Mister Mullens?" Blossom said.

"Yeah?" the detective replied as he was watching the pawn shop robbers getting cuffs slapped on their wrists by over-prepared and overzealous SWAT cops. There were over ten of them surrounding the half-conscious robbers, with their heavy weapons pointed at them, like wolves.

"When will we get to work together again?" Blossom asked, her words oozing longing. Detective Mullens had been her friend, but they hadn't been seeing much of each other lately. She actually felt lucky to have met him so early in February when she had only seen him thrice in January – twice on raids that turned up little and once when they weren't even out fighting crime. They had actually met over milkshakes in a milk bar just to catch up, which meant that the detective was afraid of losing touch with the Girls, the greatest law enforcement asset Townsville could ever have. "I miss having you around."

"Soon, I hope," Detective Mullens said as he studied Blossom's face. He couldn't believe they were friends, after everything – considering how he had treated her poorly when they first met. Hell, they hadn't exactly worked together for very long either. There were few fellow badges he could consider his blood brothers and sisters, and he'd worked with them for years, in some cases decades, even. And half of them were busy working in their new office six feet under. Blossom was still a new kid around the block – literally – but she and her sisters' impact on Townsville couldn't be underestimated. "Bottom feeders' been running scared, and when rats are afraid, they hide pretty well. Even the big ones. Especially the cradle-burnin' big ones. Makes it hard for me to build my case and take down the big fish."

"Why not just look for them?" Buttercup suggested. "And when we find them, SMASH!" Buttercup slammed her fist into her palm with a slightly demented smile on her face, barely repressed. It was another thing that the detective found he couldn't get used to. It was no secret that there was something… off with the green one. She was the talk of the Townsville Police Department, and it was little wonder when the crime scenes she left behind back in the day tended to be… messy. The fact that that had stopped recently was an even bigger wonder.

"It's not that simple, Buttercup," the detective said, unsure of how to explain police work to the Girls. Despite being incredibly effective as heavy hitters for a trio so small, inexperienced and out-of-place, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were effectively grunts – he figured out that from the way the USDO handled them, the Girls hardly knew about the facts and stories surrounding their battles. It was dangerous, but it'd worked so far. "But this is not forever. There's a reason why they're hiding. They're preparing for something big. I know it. I just hope I- we can beat them to the draw."

And as he said this, he felt a hand slipping into his. He looked down to see that it was Bubbles, who looked like she certainly didn't like the idea of crime starting up big time again. The past month had been heavenly to her, when life had approached as 'normal' as it could be for her, when she could actually live as a normal girl could, and not worry about what could put her in the sick bed next, or who could be hurting her next, or even who she would have to hurt. Well, usually. There was always something there to keep her on her toes, and her fears alive.

Detective Mullens gave her hand a squeeze - and as with many things about the Girls, he couldn't believe how small, soft and gentle Bubbles' hand was, considering that she had the strength to kill him with a single punch as casually as one would stick a knife in a steak at lunch.

"It'll be fine," he comforted the shyest of The Three. "I'm taking the Amoeba Boys down before they can hurt you and your sisters again. That's a promise. I'm close. I can feel it."

That was when another familiar figure stepped through the ruined glass doors of Joe's Pawnshop. A muscle-bound, tall man who looked only vaguely old, wearing the USDO's SWAT gear sans the helmet, with a beret proudly showcasing the shield and eagle of the USDO. General Blackwater. He was followed by a smaller man, but one who had a presence of his own. Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur, one of the general's best captains in charge of combating crime in the city. His appearance was deceiving - he looked like a gentleman, bespectacled with a round-rimmed pair at that that didn't quite go well with his SWAT gear. His soft appearance and dirty blonde hair gave the appearance of a scholar, not a soldier specializing in explosives.

General Blackwater surveyed the pawnshop, squinting his eyes at the mess, before looking down at Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, scoffing and staring disapprovingly at them. Two guards followed on his flanks, two nameless soldiers in black armed heavily despite the disproportionately minor crime committed on the scene.

"Hello, Mister Blackwater," Blossom greeted one of the most powerful man in the USDO, not that she was aware of the fact.

"The three of you are still walking around like a fashion show," the general growled at Blossom. He was supremely displeased, and he was going to let everyone know about it. The lack of progress in the war against organized crime and terrorism had practically come to a standstill, ironically because of the lack of major crimes committed. The rats had gone into hiding in the basement, and there was no way to catch them after they'd cleaned house all too well.

"What do you mean?" Blossom asked, immediately upset by General Blackwater's vague accusation. "Don't you like my skirt?"

"Skirt!?" the huge man gasped in disbelief when Blossom seemed incredulous. "That's the problem, you-!" He had to hold himself back from swearing at her. Despite the Girls' exposure to the harsher elements of city life, they had developed a dislike for expletives, something that Professor Utonium had no doubt inculcated in them. "You're not supposed to wear a skirt with your uniform! This is the third time I've warned you about this!"

"But it looks nice…" Blossom said stubbornly, but it seemed as if General Blackwater did not hear her. Instead, he decided to move on to Bubbles. Boomer looked on with disbelief, his eyes telling the Girls that he was sympathetic to them.

"And you!" the general scolded the timid one. She jumped at his booming voice as if a cannon had just been fired near her. "Where the hell is your top!? Where the hell are your upper arm guards!?" He was referring to the fact that Bubbles had made it a habit to wear only her standard issue singlet underneath her kevlar gear.

"I- I- get real nervous and hot and sweaty all the time whenever I fight crime…" Bubbles struggled to explain herself as her eyes went down to the floor.

"And do you think I don't!?" General Blackwater barked at Bubbles.

"Yes…" Bubbles mewled, visibly discomforted by the general's chiding. The general gave her the death stare when she answered wrongly, and she quickly corrected herself to avoid getting more attention from him. "No…" But the general did not care to listen any further. Instead, the general turned to Buttercup, who was just as incredulous as Blossom when he did, her smile at her sisters' plight disappearing quickly.

"Woah! What did I do?" Buttercup questioned the general in disbelief.

"Where's your helmet!?" he questioned the enhanced little girl, despite her uniform and gear being the least compromised of the three.

"I don't need it! Besides, it was blocking the view!" Buttercup defended herself a little more rigorously than the others.

"You're not Blossom," the general growled curtly. "You don't have the infrared beam excuse." Blossom had eschewed her helmet and goggles because of her occasional use of her heat vision. There was this once early in January when she had used it without removing her goggles. It melted the glass and caused a lot of pain when some of the molten glass got on her skin. The helmet had also melted around the edges because she'd looked too far to the left and right while aiming her eye beam.

Buttercup said nothing more and instead crossed her arms as she glared daggers at Blossom from the corner of her eyes. The comparison between her and Blossom had caused her mood to crash rock bottom. She never liked being compared to her leader sister, especially when it was implied that she was inferior to her. The idea that Blossom was better than her had been hanging around like a specter ever since she mastered how to walk and talk. No, she hated the comparison with a passion, and whenever it was brought up, she couldn't help but feel a little… sororicidal towards Blossom.

"Bubbles, Buttercup. I want you two in helmets from now onwards," General Blackwater ordered before turning around to leave. The lack of Lombardi-linked criminals arrested disgusted him. But before he left the shop, he stopped and turned his head to regard them from the corner of his eyes. "And for crying out loud, stop forgetting your submachineguns! Have some standards, damn it!"

Except Blossom and Bubbles didn't quite forget to bring them - they just hadn't needed them since December, especially when both Blossom and Bubbles had direct substitutes in the form of heat vision and sonic scream. In the general's mind, however, dropping the primary firearms would mean reducing tactical options - something which he would not tolerate.

With that, the general turned and left. Boomer, however, stayed behind. His face, which was incapable of hiding emotions, told everyone on the scene that he was visibly disturbed by the general's treatment of the Girls.

"I'm sorry about that," Captain James Wilbur apologized to the Girls. He bent down to stroke Bubbles in the head. "He gets like that sometimes, but he means well. He wants the city clean as much as any of you. Truth is, he cares about the three of you."

Bubbles had been on the verge of tears, but she was able to calm down a little. It helped that Boomer had been the demolitions expert who'd tried to blast her out of the panic room she was trapped in back in Morbucks Industries Research Labs. He'd visited them after that, back when they were still in wheelchairs after the terrorist attack.

"Really?" she squeaked as if the general was still there.

"Yeah. He's just… under a lot of pressure," the captain said. "And no way to release it when the Lombardi wouldn't come out to play."

"BOOMER! GET OVER HERE, NOW!" like a phantom, the general had reappeared at the entrance of the pawnshop, bellowing more harshly than a drill sergeant to a bunch of recruits.

"Yikes, gotta go," Captain James got up. "See you guys next time." He turned around and ran out of the pawnshop, disappearing into the crowd of law enforcers outside with the general.

"Asshole…" Olivia mouthed at the entrance after General Blackwater was gone. She'd never liked the general. The Girls, previously flushed with victory and glad to have done their part, had fallen sullen - well, except for Buttercup, who looked like she was just about ready to discover heat vision on her own and burn down the pawnshop.

"The general's wrong about the three of you. I've never met a more professional little girl in my life than the three of you." the detective praised the Girls hurriedly. "How about some milkshakes at Sal's Milk Bar, next Wednesday? My treat." The Girls beamed at him one after another.

After bidding goodbye to Detective Mullens and Olivia, the Girls took off from the entrance of the pawnshop, first flying to the roof of the building to retrieve their jackets and flight pack before rising into the air in their usual delta formation with Blossom in the middle. After achieving a height that had put them above the tallest building of the area, they opened up their flight pack with a push of the button and began flying towards home.

The flight pack had been the professor's idea. When opened, Wings would spring out from either end of the flight pack. It helped to stabilize them especially in higher altitudes and loaned them a degree of aerodynamics. It was also energy-saving, as the Girls would need to use less Chemical X energy to achieve the same thing. They could even glide for a while without using their flight ability.

"You really sure about that?" Detective Olivia said to her father back in the pawnshop, jokingly referring to the implication that she had become second to The Three. Mullens simply smiled wordlessly at her.


	3. Chapter 2: After Dark

**Chapter 2: After Dark**

**The City of Townsville. Sky. On the way to The House.**

**2 FEB 1989 (Thursday). 2033.**

The Girls flew through the air, like birds, free and soaring beautifully across the sky. They even had deployable gliders that made flying even easier, though the Girls had likened them more to training wheels. Unlike birds, however, they were faster than any car at their top speed, and they drew a tri-colored line of light behind them in their formation. Having been steadily and progressively training themselves to fly faster and faster, they were now able to fly at half the speed of sound. Their speed meant lots of things. It meant that they no longer needed to be carried around in Lamborghini speed transports, and it was a change that the Girls actually disliked as it meant less time spent with Mister Blake, the commander of their convoy and also one of their closest friends.

Blake, who had been reinstated as an officer of the USDO with the rank of lieutenant after his heroic actions in the terrorist attack of Morbucks Industries Research Labs, combined with his flawless job performance as a convoy commander, had been redeployed elsewhere instead. The Project Powerpuff speed convoy had been repurposed as a speed strike force. No longer in charge of transporting the Project Powerpuff subject, General Blake had machineguns bolted to the top of the Lamborghinis and sending them out on patrols and missions.

The Girls hadn't seen Mister Blake and his crew, who were friends to them too, for a week now, and they had met only a few times in the past month. Instead, all they got was…

"This is Flight Control Five to Bravo-Four-Seven, over," a female voice said on the Girls' radio channel. "Come in, over." Blossom reached for the 'speak' button on her radio.

"Hi, Blossom here," Blossom reported in. Being the leader, she doubled as the team's communicator as well, and to this end, she had also been taught radio language by both Selicia and Miss Keane. Not that she ever used them.

"Bravo-Four-Seven, what is your flight path? Please confirm, over," the flight control woman asked.

"We're flying School-Bus-Two," Blossom said, the code meaning that they were going home. It was the extent of her willingness to use code language.

"School-Bus-Two confirmed. Please adjust your heading ten degrees, left. Stop rotation. Good," the flight control woman instructed before wishing her well artificially then cutting communications: "Have a good night, Bravo-Four-Seven. Over and out,"

The infrastructure replacing the Lamborghini speed transports were more ambitious than just a few sports cars. While the Girls would fly to patrol or respond to calls, they would also be directed by a series of flight control towers placed all around the cities. They were normally found in the highest places, such as on top of a skyscraper, or the tallest apartment building. They were little more than high altitude encampments equipped with communications and surveillance devices, though there were plans to build actual control towers on top of the buildings.

Within less than half an hour, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had reached home. Lonely though it was, it was faster to fly around the city. Swooping down and putting the end of their rainbow at the doorstep of their home, Blossom opened the door and went in with her sisters.

The professor had been sitting in the living room, with Selicia at his side. They were cuddling, with the professor putting an arm around her shoulders while they were watching the television. TNN was on the tube, and it was no surprise, as it was very often that the news channel would feature the Girls, one way or another. The TNN's viewership had soared over the past month when the Girls were actively fighting crime in Townsville, and viewers were known to treat it as a source of entertainment as much as news. The Girls had gained quite a few fans in their special delivery of justice.

On the professor's television, a special program was on, showing the Angels of Justice in action over the past month. Though they were thus far restricted mostly to suppressing small-time crime by the retreat of organized crime, the TNN's new side program had blown it up to bigger proportions with aptly-placed words, thrilling speculations and well-chosen factoids taken from both dubious and reputable sources alike. Thomas and Selicia were just happy to see the Girls on television and portrayed in a positive light at that.

The professor turned around just in time to see the Girls coming in, and Selicia was able to avoid letting the Girls see her running her lips up his neck.

"Hey Girls, how's crime-fighting today?" he greeted them as they were coming up to the couch.

"It was great," Blossom said as she was removing her flight pack and leaning it against the couch, before letting herself float so she could look over the couch to see herself on TV. "We did good today."

"Way too easy," Buttercup boasted, then jumped and plopped herself down beside Mommy. She forcefully gave her a hug. Selicia returned it, though she could feel a bruise coming up in her ribcage.

"Gentle, Buttercup," she groaned. Meanwhile, Bubbles went around the couch and sat on the professor's lap - the man was thankful that she didn't have her full gear on, or she would be too heavy for comfort on his lap.

"Mister Blackwater was being mean," Bubbles said, still a little sad, but she brightened up quickly. "But Mister Mullens offered to take us out for milkshakes. Can we go, Dad?" It had the professor worried, the way Bubbles' mood tended to swing from left to right like a pendulum. Life as a (very) special law enforcement officer wasn't exactly the right one for her, no matter how long she had been filling those shoes. The sweetest of the three would have been happiest in a world where she was normal, but it would have to be some unreachable parallel world.

"Of course you can, honey," the professor gave his permission, gladly. In reality, the Girls didn't really need his consent, considering that they were operating out there without his supervision, but the fact that they look to him for it made him happy. They loved and respected him, truly, and he loved them in return.

"Yay!" the Girls cheered in unison.

"You know, Girls, I may not have milkshakes, but how about some orange pudding?" the professor offered. The Girls beamed at him when he mentioned supper. "It's got chocolate syrup on it. We worked really hard together on it. Right, Selicia?" Thomas and Selicia pecked each other on the lips when he mentioned it.

Over the past month, the professor and the SWAT soldier had gotten really close, and it helped that the stress of having to raise children who were practically fighting a war against criminals had largely been lifted over a month ago. With nothing really threatening both the Girls and the parents (designated handlers, by USDO terms), they were able to live like a relatively normal family, and it hardly mattered when the Girls had flown off a few hours a day to patrol the skies of Townsville and get scrambled for the odd operation or so (that usually ended up anti-climactic). Selicia's abusive tendencies were kept to the minimum and the professor hadn't broken down since forever. To the Girls, who were only just over two months old, it was like a lifetime ago that things had gotten intolerably rough.

And so after supper, the Girls went for their bath, then for bedtime, but not before story time with Selicia, who kissed the Girls - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup - goodnight. While Selicia had always favored Buttercup as the USDO-assigned mom of The Three, the tension between her and the other two had largely dissipated. There were simply no sparks over the past month to set things off between her and them.

"What happens after the princess lives happily ever after, Mommy?" Bubbles asked Selicia when she was done giving them their kisses.

"She… lives happily ever after?" Selicia said, trying to mask how unsure she was. It helped that she had just switched the table lamp off. "Just like the three of you. In fact, I'm willing to bet you three are going to be very happy tomorrow. You know why?"

"Because I get to beat up more criminals tomorrow?" Buttercup guessed. Her glowing green eyes shone in the dark, like spirit orbs of Asian myth in the night.

"We don't know that. Try again," Selicia said.

"Elodie Morbucks!" Blossom took a smarter guess. Selicia didn't like that she had taken away the right answer from Buttercup, but she was willing to let it slide. The darkness hid her change in expression well enough. Blossom's expression, as seen from her glowing pink eyes, however, was as clear as day. Pure anticipation, ignorance. Innocence. Selicia hated that about her - Blossom assuming the mantle of leadership was nothing short of a disaster waiting to happen - and it already did before. In her opinion, Buttercup would have been a perfect choice, as her innocence was half-dead right from the start.

"We're going to Princess' masquerade ball tomorrow!" Bubbles added. She could feel the excitement coursing through her body. It showed: her baby blue eyes shown brighter. "I can't wait!"

"Me neither!" Blossom added. "It'd be fun to wear a mask!"

"Boring! I'd rather spend the night flying around Townsville…" Buttercup said with a sigh. She wanted to comment further about the 'beating up criminals' part, but she yawned instead. It was bedtime, and little girls need their sleep.

"Okay, Girls, now go to sleep so tomorrow would come," Selicia suggested slyly, and the Girls went right to closing their eyes. Bubbles giggled one last time when she imagined how she'd look in the dress and mask Princess had selected for her, not that she knew what they were, but she'd like to imagine.

The professor had been listening by the door. It had been his turn the previous day to put the Girls to bed, and he was already missing it. He smiled when Selicia did such a good job. There was a time when he thought that she was totally unfit to mother the Girls, but that time was past.

As the Girls tried to sleep, Selicia hummed a lullaby to help them along. The professor walked away to give her a moment, and prepare for his with his assigned wife.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Business District. Morbucks Industries Research Labs?**

**25 DEC 1988 (Sunday)? 2157?**

Bubbles had never been in so much pain in her life before. She had been holding up the sky for what felt like an eternity, except the sky was the ceiling, the ceiling over the panic room that all her friends were in. She could smell her own blood raining down on her friends. She had been sweating and crying blood when exhaustion had given way to something worse, beyond agony. Her wounds wept blood.

She held up the sky, and looked down at her friends, illuminated by the baby blue light emanating from her body as she flew against the dislodged ceiling threatening to crush them all.

And she saw her friends, except they were skeletons, some huddled together, some alone, some in pieces, all of them glaring up at her with their osteo-grin. She could easily tell who was who. Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks still had her cancer wig with its messy buns, dusty from age (how long had she been down here?), and beside her was her father, still in his business suit. The skeleton of the Catholic priest was still kneeling in prayer - how that was possible, she didn't know, and she didn't dare and care to know.

But there was something out of place. She saw herself among the bone pile - she could tell because the skeleton was wearing her favorite baby blue party dress. And there was something worse. Her sisters were there too, as skeletons. She could tell from the matching dresses. In fact, when she stared hard enough, she saw another skeleton with a lab coat and a black smoking pipe still in its bony hand and yet another in a USDO SWAT uniform and gear. Dad and Mom - how?

Bubbles screamed and cried even more - if that was possible. She thrashed against her impossible load. She closed her eyes in an attempt to will it all away, except she had gotten what she wished in the most twisted way possible, for when she next opened her eyes, she found herself in a tight little box, face down. She was still holding up the ceiling, but it was crushing her too. Terror beyond terror seized her heart - she couldn't even scream even if she wanted to. The ceiling was closing in on her, and so were the four walls close to her.

For a moment, she could feel herself flattened.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House?**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 0511?**

Bubbles jerked awake, her eyes opening wide. There was still darkness all around her, and for a moment, she thought that she was still in her ever-shrinking box. Sitting up quite suddenly, she checked herself to see if she had been flattened, if she was covered in blood, and she had to will her eyes to give out light like a pair of torchlights to do it.

Nothing.

But she spotted something about her sisters that were off. Casting her eye-lanterns on Blossom, she had caught her just in time to see her turning to face her.

And she was a skeleton, though her flowing, fiery orange hair was still intact. There was still pink light emanating from her eye sockets. The Blossom skeleton grinned at her.

The walls, floor and ceiling groaned. She could feel dust dropping from the ceiling. Looking around her, she could see the walls closing in on her.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 0511.**

Bubbles jerked awake, though she didn't scream. She could feel tears both warm and cold on her cheeks and cried even more when her dreams were still fresh in her mind. The exhaustion and the pain felt too real, and it reminded her of how close she came to failing and letting everyone die.

Afraid to wake her sisters up, she whimpered and sobbed silently even as Buttercup snored and Blossom turned in her sleep. She felt alone, and so she floated above her bed and flew silently to the door, opening it. Outside in the corridor, she landed on her feet and padded towards her Daddy's room. Opening the doorknob as she sniffled and wiped her tears away, she found it surprising that the door was unlocked, and proceeded to enter.

She ran towards the queen-sized bed, still sobbing silently as hard. She pulled at Professor Utonium's blanket, and when that failed to wake him up, she floated higher and pulled desperately at his arm, shaking him awake.

"Dad…" Bubbles mewled. "Please wake up, I'm scared!"

"Ooof…" the professor groaned as he turned to the source of whatever had disturbed his sleep. He struggled to open his eyes - having only fallen asleep just past midnight, it was harder than usual to attain his wakefulness. "Wha- Who-"

The first thing he saw was Bubbles' glowing blue eyes, which shone brightly in the dark. The professor gasped at the sight, having been caught off-guard by the unexpected sight - that brief moment of nothingness in his head as he was still trying to get his mind going had made the glowing eyes terrifying, but he was able to collect himself quickly enough.

It helped that he could hear Bubbles' pained whimpering, which kicked his paternal instincts in the butt pretty good.

"Oh honey, what's wrong?" the professor asked sweetly as he reached out for his sweetest daughter, switching on the table lamp with the other. He sat up and Bubbles floated up to him for a hug. He took her into his arms without hesitation.

"I was back there, Dad… In that dark hole…" Bubbles cried. "And- and- everyone…" The professor gave her a squeeze.

"It was just a nightmare, Bubbles," he comforted the little girl. It wasn't the first time this had happened. She had been having nightmares almost every night since last Christmas, after she was forced to take on a burden too great for her little frame by Mojo Jojo, holding up a broken ceiling and rubble weighing in excess of over six tonnes when the sapient Chimpanzee had dropped it on her. The professor couldn't even imagine the pain she had felt - by the time Agent Blake's team and her sisters had dug her out, she had bled to within an inch of her life, nearly drained of Chemical X. "Everything is fine now. You're safe."

He'd said this despite knowing that there was something out there. He did not know for certain, but what he knew from the USDO council meetings he attended had convinced him that it wasn't over. All of the major players on the other side of the law were still at large. They might have gone into hiding, but it simply meant that the boogieman was going to jump out some night - it was only a matter of when.

"Go back to sleep, Bubbles," he said.

"Can I sleep next to you, Dad?" she asked. "Please?"

"Hop on, then," the professor squeezed himself closer to Selicia to make space for Bubbles at the edge of his bed. He patted the newly vacated space gently and yawned. Bubbles clambered into bed and let herself down beside him gladly, squeezing into him, enjoying the warmth from his body. He might not have her ability to lift heavy vehicles, fly and break every single window in a skyscraper with a scream, but when Bubbles slept beside him, she knew that she was safe, and loved. The professor covered her with his blanket and wrapped an arm around her. When she was all secured, he reached for the table lamp and clicked it off…

Only to hear Bubbles whimper in utter fear. He clicked it on again.

"Thanks, Dad," she said gratefully. "I'm sorry I'm not as brave as Buttercup… or Blossom."

"You were really brave that night, Bubbles. You've saved many lives and made many friends that day," he said. But Bubbles wasn't convinced. She knew the difference between her and her sisters, and it was like night and day. They were never the ones to break out in cold sweat or hesitate when it came time to help the weak and punish the wicked. They certainly weren't the ones whose heart would race like it was trying to jump ship from her chest or have breathing problems when things get hot. Every time she went out there, it was as if she had died once again.

If only that could change…


	4. B-47, B-48 & B-49 W11 Report

**B-47, B-48, and B-49 W11 Report**

**DOC: 2 FEB 1989 (Thursday)**

**Created by: Professor Utonium**

**Title: W11 Capabilities Summary**

**Introduction:** It has been 11 weeks since the creation of the Girls. They have grown rapidly, attaining enhancements to their abilities beyond any comprehension and scale of imagination thus far. In the beginning, we sought to create the perfect soldier - preferably a trained and combat-ready adult infused with one of the many Chemicals for higher strength, resilience, speed and other performance factors beyond baseline comparisons. What we have done in reality has gone beyond that. We have not come up with a slightly better drug to combat the usual strain of flu. We have essentially found the cure for cancer when it comes to law enforcement.

I just wish it didn't have to be my Girls who have to take on the burden of cleaning up the streets of Townsville, and potentially the entire United States if our last meeting remains relevant. And that is for good reason too. I have very good reasons to believe that they have reached a plateau and the summit of their abilities. More on this in the rest of the report.

**Conventional:** Under Miss Keane's guidance, the Girls have been learning very quickly the nuances of speaking, reading and writing, not to mention mathematics and even the sciences. While it will be years away (not as much for Bubbles, unfortunately) before they will attain an adults' level of understanding despite their intelligence, this is already a feat in itself considering the fact that the average human being will need about 13 years of sustained education in present-day society.

What is really disturbing, however, is the rate at which they have been doing it. Miss Keane has been keeping close tabs on their learning process, and she has noted that they have been slowing down, sometimes even forgetting what they have learned. I will need to investigate this further.

**Psychology:** Blossom and Bubbles remain just as vulnerable mentally as any other kid. In their current situation, I have to write that this is really bad, no matter how much I wish for them to stay as normal little girls, at least on the inside. Blossom had shown signs of cracking under the burden of leadership, and though things are better now, it is not because she has learned to cope. Things have just quietened down, but I am afraid of what will happen should things start up again as they did in the earlier weeks. Alice reported that she might be suffering a degree of anxiety disorder, but also that Blossom is the most resistant of the three when it comes to psychological trauma. I am proud of her - but it is still too much, what we are asking of her.

Bubbles remains traumatized. She is haunted by nightmares almost daily, and she had told me numerous times that she was always terrified whenever she was out there. Psychiatrist Alice believes she is suffering from several major mental debilitations, including clinical depression, PTSD and several types of phobia.

Buttercup appears to be perfectly adjusted to her duties as a law enforcement officer. However, the reason is far below ideal. According to Psychiatrist Alice, she is suffering from severe psychopathy, and this has already been expressed multiple times in the past, most severely last Christmas, at the Battle at Morbucks Industries Research Labs, resulting in over 30 Foundation dead. I may not be a soldier, but I see a lot of opportunities lost with that kind of casualty on the enemy side. That's over 30 less Foundation agents we could interrogate and reform.

I would like to request again that the Girls, as a group, be taken off duty unless there's an emergency we cannot handle, to give them time to rest and recuperate.

**Combat Proficiency:** As mentioned in my introduction, the Girls have only grown in power since their accidental creation, and this power can be linked directly to the Chemical X in their body, found in their blood and cells. Based on this metric, it can be argued that Buttercup has grown the most powerful, with 1,915 ppm of Chemical X in her cells, followed by Blossom at 1,849 ppm and Bubbles at 1,794 ppm. All figures are based on the most current measurements.

However, Chemical X blood concentration alone does not account for their performance in a hotspot. It is just an indicator of how much energy they could expend before becoming drained and nullified as a threat. Much depends on how they expend that energy – and the general rule is that the more impressive an ability they used, the more energy it uses up. A multi-ton punch, for example, could likely be executed hundreds of times a day before one of the Girls tire out. Heat vision, on the other hand, would likely drain Blossom completely after, say, 20 times. It is therefore recommended that the Girls arm themselves with weapons as they do not require Chemical X – guns and grenades, for example, no matter how much I detest those things.

With that being said, in terms of physical combat, Blossom was once best in it but Buttercup seems to have become the most proficient of the three, thanks in large part due to her misplaced enthusiasm for it. She responds best to Selicia Goodwin's training in both hand-to-hand combat as well as firearms. Blossom has not been left far behind however if my observations of their sparring is any indication. I count a 6:4 victory ratio between the two of them. Bubbles, on the other hand, does not take well to physical combat at all, but for good reason. In fact, I am surprised that Blossom does not have similar issues. Despite this, Bubbles' raw physical performance in all areas should make up for her lack of skill – and we shouldn't compare between the three.

Things are different, however, when it comes to some of their more fantastical of abilities. At this, Blossom and Bubbles seem to be most adept, with the former consistently leading the three. Blossom had discovered her ability to fly and fire infrared beams from her eyes - the former of which had to be taught to the other two, with Buttercup taking the longest to learn, while the latter seemed lost on both Bubbles and Buttercup.

Bubbles, however, had developed her voice to become what is essentially a sonic weapon. However, it works differently from the USDO's experimental sonic weapons. While her 'sonic scream', as I have taken to call it, could do the usual things as a sonic weapon does, such as causing hearing loss, vision distortion and injury of related sensory organs and even less sensitive soft tissue, her scream results in a sonic boom and further damaging effects as well. My past analysis of her sonic scream indicated that manifestations of Chemical X in the air she expels during a sonic scream can and will create a sonic boom and a pushing force, with her loudest scream capable of hurting even enhanced individuals.

Buttercup remains unspecialized and unremarkable in terms of special abilities (in technical terms and in the basis of comparison – I must emphasize that she is remarkable in her own ways). She relies mainly on conventional tactics and unarmed combat augmented by flight and her enhanced physical performance.

This brings me to a discovery I have made regarding their combat abilities. The last of their abilities was discovered more than a month ago - Bubbles' sonic scream had been the latest development, and it was dated all the way back to 25 DEC 1988 - the battle at Morbucks Industries Research Labs. They appeared to have plateaued in terms of development, with only marginal improvements in terms of Chemical X capacity and conventional techniques, made possible by relatively mundane training regimes.

There are several possibilities as to why. The most obvious explanation is that they have perhaps reached the pinnacle of their combat potential - this could be all we are ever going to get from them. However, this is merely speculation based on observation. Another possibility is that they are merely unmotivated by the relatively peaceful climate over the past month to discover new abilities. This alternative explanation is more likely in my view. Thinking back, the Girls had discovered many of their abilities whenever they were under threat or a lot of pressure. Blossom had discovered how to emit infrared beams when she was angered by Bubbles' near-death, and Bubbles had discovered her sonic scream while fighting for survival against Mojo Jojo. It is a stretch, but while Blossom had discovered flight spontaneously it seems, Bubbles and Buttercup had to learn how to fly quickly to gain an edge in their law enforcement duties.

**Statistics:** Below are some hard information pertinent to our understanding of the Girls' combat proficiencies

**Average maximum flight speed:** 331.55 miles/hour (group measurement)

Note: The Girls have so far been able to fly up to half the speed of sound. However, the faster they travel, the less efficient they are at converting the energy in their Chemical X to kinetic energy (and other forms of energy still unknown to our sciences). Waste energy consisted mostly of light energy and secondarily sound energy. Based on this fact, it is advisable not to push the Girls too hard and allow them to fly at slower speeds as long as there are no emergencies. They will quickly run out of Chemical X energy if they were to fly at top speed constantly. A cruising speed of about 200 miles/hour is ideal, less if they are just patrolling.

Their ability to fly at high speeds is what has allowed us to get rid of our convoy system and allow the Girls to roam freely. I think it's better for them, psychologically speaking. But it is to the USDO's advantage too, as their deployment time is not limited to the geography and condition of the streets, terrain, and traffic.

Their flight speed has been on the increase since Blossom first learned to fly. It has just about seen an increase of about 50% up to the current speed I measured over the month. Based on my calculations, the theoretical limits of their flight speed should be about 900 miles/hour, just over the speed of sound, which would make them veritable human jet fighters, though sustaining such a speed will likely be exhausting to them even with training and increased Chemical X concentration in their blood. Past that point, any attempt to accelerate any further will result in rapidly diminishing returns.

**Average maximum running speed:** 198.12 miles/hour (group measurement)

Note: It goes without saying that they are better off flying when it comes to speed. However, running takes less Chemical X energy. Running comes more naturally to them as well, and should be generally preferred over flying whenever they are in an enclosed space.

The same energy conversation principle applies whenever they run. Higher speeds mean less efficiency in energy conversion, resulting in the usual X-energy contrail and sound. However, running appears to be less efficient not just in terms of energy conversion but also due to biomechanical limitations. The human anatomy is simply not built for speed, unlike that of four-legged creatures or flight-capable birds. However, the human anatomy is famous for its stamina, and this appears to have been translated in the Girls as they will be able to run for long periods of time as long as they aren't sprinting. Jogging is a better word for it, and as long as they maintain a sustainable speed, they should be able to run for a long stretch of time at one go.

They are not marathon runners, however - it would be years before they could run for hours at a stretch. Therein lies another disadvantage of running. I have tested the Girls' endurance. Buttercup currently holds the record for longest time spent running, at 42 minutes and 50 seconds at 50 miles/hour on an industrial treadmill - this is incredible for a little girl, especially at such speeds, but on the scale of trained marathon runners, poor in terms of stamina. I believe the limitation does not just exist in their stamina, but also in their psychology. They possess the minds of little girls, after all - even as it is, what they have achieved is nothing short of extraordinary. Take any normal 5-year-old kid out, and they will more likely have a meltdown within a few minutes of jogging than try to run for 40 minutes. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup cannot and should not be pushed any harder.

**Maximum lift weight (without flight):** 3.7 tonnes/3 min 40 sec (Buttercup), 3.3 tonnes / 3 min 30 sec (Blossom), 3.1 tonnes / 2min 10 sec (Bubbles)

The Girls' carry capacity has been steadily increasing over the month. This further validates my theory that the Girls' Chemical X abilities can be further honed from their baseline. Individually, they will each be able to carry a car. Together, they will likely be able to carry off most military vehicles short of a tank if they want. This, however, is just the beginning.

**Maximum lift weight (with flight):** 8.1 tonnes / 3 min 50 sec (Buttercup), 7.7 tonnes / 3 min 38 sec (Blossom), 7.2 tonnes / 2 min 5 sec (Bubbles)

After the mess at Morbucks Industries Research Labs, I have sought to find the truth behind Bubbles' ability to carry more than twice her previous record, which was about 3 tonnes for just over a minute. Under controlled experimental conditions, I discovered in the Townsville Stadium that flying adds to their lift capacity. My conclusion is that flying introduces an alternate source of force under the Girls' control, resulting in a two-pronged approach to carrying massive weights.

This, I believe, was what allowed Bubbles to handle the rubble Mojo Jojo had rained down on her, allowing her and her new friends to avoid getting crushed.

The experiment I conducted was 3 weeks ago, and Bubbles' maximum lift weight with flight as a factor measured up to 7.1 tonnes, sustained for a few minutes. The Rubble at Morbucks' lab was 6.8 tonnes in weight.

There is one more thing to note. Bubbles is noticeably under-performing in this aspect of her capabilities. My medical data and observation suggest that her mental trauma has something to do with it. Both psychiatrist Alice and I will be following up on this.

**Average maximum force (punch):** 30.1 tonnes (Buttercup), 27.5 tonnes (Blossom), 24.8 tonnes (Bubbles)

I believe this single line of data alone should illustrate the Girls' development in terms of their abilities. Even at the beginning, they were capable of dishing out something like 20 tonnes of force with a punch. However, much of the increase since that time were effected before January and February, over December with Selicia's help.

The statistics quoted are only the surface, however. Taking into account pressure and the target should give a fuller picture, but in summary: even Bubbles, the weakest of the three, is capable of hitting harder than a truck and poking holes in steel with her fingers, and since their lower limbs are stronger, they kick a lot harder, too.

**Addendum:**

The Girls have many other abilities at their disposal. I have merely touched on the main ones that they have so often used or displayed. Below are other abilities that are passive, frequently used subtly or are simply not as 'flashy'.

\- Damage Resistance: The Girls are extremely resistant to all forms of damage, able to withstand gunshots of any caliber, fire, and anything considered less energy-intensive, such as knives, swords, and blunt instruments. However, sharp Duranium instruments, even crudely refined and made, could damage them as easily as steel could hurt a normal human being. Bullets made of Duranium, especially those accelerated by Chemical-X-saturated propellants, is particularly dangerous to them.

\- Sister Sense: The Girls seem to possess psy-links with one another, from which emotions and even thoughts could be transmitted between them to a limited degree. While the 'bandwidth' is far too limited for them to form a hive mind (which wouldn't be ideal as it would erode their identities), they seem to have a greater sense of empathy among themselves. This 'Sister Sense' allows them to synchronize their actions as well, sometimes right down to the words they say. For Buttercup, this psy-link is her only way to empathize with her sisters, and even then, it is extremely limited. There isn't a night when I wouldn't worry about Buttercup.

\- Hyper-Accelerated Cellular Regeneration: The Girls are capable of healing from wounds at speeds far beyond that of normal human beings. As a perspective, skin-deep cuts will disappear after a night's sleep. Bubbles was back on duty within days after a major heart and lung operation. Even with my understanding of Chemical X, I struggle to explain this. While the Girls are able to metabolize Chemical X for energy, and they have a limitless supply of it, I have only the most fanciful hypothesis as to where they get the available materials to repair injuries so quickly. It is possible that the Chemical X in their body itself is repurposed into the necessary proteins and other bio-molecules to be used for repair.

\- Hyper-Dexterity: The Girls could work with their hands very quickly and deftly. After months of training from Selicia, they are able to field-strip an XM4 rifle within seconds, with Blossom doing it in 3.5 seconds. Based on my most current theories, I believe this is possible because they are somehow able to focus the Chemical X saturating their nerve cells to quantum-tunnel signals between their nervous system and other parts of the body. Their reaction time, which is a fraction of a normal human being, seems to support this.

\- Super-Acute Eyesight: Blossom has an eyesight that doubles as a pair of binoculars. Using optometry measurements, her eyesight could go up to 20/0.5 in terms of clarity. The other Girls had attained a similar skill as well, though with less 'zooming' function compared to Blossom. While Blossom is able to 'zoom in' up to 40x normal vision, Buttercup could only manage about 10x and Bubbles 5x. Based on my observations, I was able to detect faint Chemical X structures forming in front of their eyes whenever they do this, forming meta-dimensional lenses that 'zooms in' their vision.

\- Bioluminescence: The Girls could emit light from their eyes, using them like torch lights. The distance has been increasing steadily over the last month. At the start of January, the distance was merely 9 yards. Now, it can go up to 21 yards. And yes, they can adjust it as well, though it does strain their eyes after a lengthy period of time. They have no other ways of producing useful sources of light as of yet.

(For a full report on the Girls' combat proficiency, refer to the research department. They have all my latest research data.)

**Additional Notes by General Blackwater** (Except from USDO internetwork email to House Group - Professor Utonium and Sergeant Selicia Goodwin)

The Girls have grown soft as of late, but I guess that is to be expected, isn't it? When they are little more than children? Their stubborn lack of discipline when it comes to equipment management aside, they have simplified their tactics beyond acceptable levels.

They no longer seem to plan their moves at all and does not even try to avoid detection and incorporate stealth into their operations. They are reckless, and they are lucky the Foundation and much of the criminal underground is currently maintaining a low profile. They need to realize they are successful so far only because they've been picking on the small fries.

WHIP THEM BACK INTO SHAPE ASAP BEFORE I DO IT MYSELF.


	5. Chapter 3: Hard Questions

**Chapter 3: Hard Questions**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 0617.**

The professor wasn't able to sleep after Bubbles woke him up. Instead, he was lying down there in his bed, enjoying the moment with one of his adopted daughters, spending the seconds mulling over the Girls. Specifically, how he could get them out of what was essentially conscripted child soldiering. Over the past month, he had been expanding on his Chemical X Unifying Theory, fixing calculation errors, amending whatever mistakes he had in his understanding of the enigmatic cross-dimensional substance.

But he wasn't solving the mystery of Chemical X for the sake of understanding this universe or the next any longer. He was doing it for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. If he could understand Chemical X and all its little nuances, he believed he could 'cure' them of their Chemical X, and convince the USDO to let them go. He cared nothing for the consequences - Townsville could clean up its own mess for all he cared, and the USDO could get someone else to help them with it, and if the USDO did not fire him for rendering their only enhanced operatives inert, he would gladly come up with an alternative to the Girls if it meant that they would leave them alone.

Professor Utonium stared at his alarm clock as the seconds ticked by. Bubbles, his little bundle of joy, fast asleep under the glow of his table lamp and basking in the warmth of his body and blanket, turned in her sleep or at least tried to. Instinctively, her body knew that it couldn't, so she instead kneaded her head into his arm, which she had been using as a pillow. The sensation felt good.

06:19, the alarm clock read. Sometimes, he wished that the laws of the universe would cut him some slack, and time would freeze forever during the good times, such as when he was with Bubbles, resting in bed just before sunrise. For every day that started, there was always the probability that the peace would be shattered, and his Girls would have to answer the call to arms once more.

06:20, the alarm clock flipped a number. His waking dream was over. Professor Utonium got up. Carefully maneuvering around Bubbles, he slid off his bed and slid his feet into his house shoes. Looking at Bubbles one more time, he thought her to be a sweet little angel. Bending down a little, he stroked her blonde hair and ran his hand down her cheek before walking away reluctantly.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 0947.**

"I'm still really sorry about your legs, Sally," Blossom apologized to her classmate as they were solving a series of simple math problems together. The esoteric art of mathematical addition and subtraction, however, was just an excuse for Blossom to go through with her ritual of humility. It was a mere extension of what she had done last month, soon after the Battle at Morbucks Industries Research Labs.

While the USDO's intention had been one of good public relations, Blossom and Bubbles were sincere when they went around Townsville to visit the victims of the Highway 13 Incident to apologize for their mistakes and hand out gifts. Buttercup had only apologized out of fear of disapproval from Mom and Dad – in her mind, she was never at fault for anything.

"It's fine, Blossom," Sally, the wheelchair-bound girl, said. While she still held some kind of grudge against The Three, she had been told otherwise not to act on it – her family had seen what The Three had done for the city, and the parents believed that it was time to move on. "My mom said that I can still be a fashion designer…" What Sally did not tell Blossom was that she wanted to be an astronaut too, and now she'll never get the chance to either make the dream come true or grow out of it.

While Blossom was chatting with a former victim, Bubbles was drawing with a few friends at another table. The professor was right – with some time, the animosity between the Girls and their classmates had dissipated – and for good reason. Whether a few months old or a few years, a month was a long time for a little child. It took just a fraction of that after the Girls' redemption with Morbucks for them to play and laugh together once more (under the watchful eye of Miss Keane, of course). Thus, Bubbles was in good company. Better, in fact, than her own memories.

And it showed in her drawings. In her latest drawing block, she presented herself as she was in her dreams – the perfect little girl – but with tears flying in arcs from her huge, exaggerated eyes, drawn as cartoonish teardrops. She stood over a man she had killed in Morbucks Labs. While Miss Keane was walking by, she paused and looked at the drawing. She straightened her vest casually, unsure of how to react to Bubbles' development. It was unprecedented, after all, that she had been given responsibility over a trio of enhanced little girls 'working' as elite law enforcement agents who had killed and wounded varying numbers of people.

"That's…" Miss Keane tried to begin, but she couldn't even find her second word.

"I'm sorry I scared you, Miss Keane," Bubbles said without turning away from her drawing. She knew her kindergarten teacher was there from her shadow. She was just too engrossed with her futile attempt at catharsis.

"I… You didn't. Not at all, Bubbles," Miss Keane replied. Half of it was a lie. She was afraid of Bubbles and her sisters, no matter how good they were now, simply because they were incredibly powerful. But there was some truth in her voice – she was trying not to be. Realizing that she hadn't touched any of them for over a month, she reached out for her shoulder, tried to reassure her that way with some human touch. One of her pigtails brushed her hand when she did. Her blonde hair felt like silk, but they seemed tougher than that.

"I've killed a man before, Miss Keane," Bubbles opened up a little on feeling her teacher's hand on the back of her head. "He was shooting at me and I killed him."

"Are you upset that you did?" Miss Keane asked, unable to believe that she was having this conversation with a little girl – a baby even, considering that they were born late November, last year. It was terrible with Buttercup, but understandable considering what Professor Utonium had told her. With Bubbles, it was shocking.

"Yes…" Bubbles squeaked, looking like she was on the verge of tears. "I dreamed about him on some nights."

"Then that's good. It means you're a good girl, Bubbles," Miss Keane said with perfectly enunciated words as she sat down next to her. Bubbles stared at her eye-to-eye. Miss Keane thought that she had the most piercing gaze ever, what with it glowing baby blue. But she thought that it was also beautiful. Like precious jewels. Like Sapphire glowing under sunlight.

"I am?" Bubbles questioned, unconvinced.

"Yes, you are… Now how about smiling a little?" Miss Keane said. "It'll make you feel better… There you go." Bubbles had done as she was told, and she giggled after that, though it wasn't because she smiled. She was happy that Miss Keane had come around to not hating them weeks ago, and that hadn't changed. "How about if you draw something cheerful? You were good at drawing your family. Why not start there?"

Unfortunately for Bubbles, Miss Keane had to move on. With over twenty kids to look out for, she couldn't afford to spend too much time on her even if she wanted to. Next, she went over to Buttercup's table. Surprisingly, it hadn't blown up yet. Instead, Buttercup was being unusually nice and good. She was working on origami with a few other kids, including Mac, the boy who had made fun of the Girls when he found out that they had no belly buttons. Despite being nearly killed for it by Buttercup, he seemed fine with having her around.

Buttercup, Mac and another girl had been building paper frogs that could hop, but Buttercup had moved on to a simple paper airplane.

"Hiya, Miss Keane," Buttercup greeted her teacher the moment she saw her, with the sweetest smile yet, which was very uncharacteristic of her. "Do you like our paper frogs? Do you?" She stared at the teacher with those jade-like eyes of hers, expecting a reaction. Miss Keane had to physically force herself not to shrink away from them.

"They look perfectly folded, Miss Buttercup," Miss Keane laughed, and had to try to hide her nervousness at the change of tone surrounding Buttercup. Something had changed. "I'm glad you - urm - have learned to appreciate the simpler things in life."

"Miss Keane?" Buttercup had changed the tone further - starting with the tone of her voice, which had become a little more serious. "May I ask you something?"

"Why, of course, Buttercup. Ask away!" Miss Keane said with enthusiasm mustered with difficulty. She had to try to focus on the fact that she loved her teaching position, even if it had been subverted by the USDO to serve their agenda and focus primarily on the Girls.

"Can I ask you my questions alone?" Buttercup requested further. Miss Keane could not put a finger on it, but she thought it to be an odd request. Children could be shy and secretive at times, but with Buttercup in question, it could be a can of worms waiting to be opened. "I'm really shy about them."

'What could Buttercup be trying to hide from the rest of the children?' Miss Keane wondered, and she didn't like the possibilities she had thought up. Forcing herself to think positively, she struggled to believe that it could be something mundane. After all, enhanced and mentally unsound though Buttercup was, she was a child after all, with similar needs to the next child in the same room.

Maybe.

"Okay, Buttercup, you can ask me your questions at my desk…" Miss Keane agreed to Buttercup's request. Putting out a hand, at the same time restraining the urge to pull it away again, she offered it for Buttercup to take, which the enhanced little girl did. They went over to her desk, attracting some attention from both the other two Angels of Justice and some children before the kids returned to what they were doing.

Sitting down behind her favorite workspace in the world, she pulled up a chair for Buttercup. It was short enough for her to comfortably get on top of without the use of her floating abilities.

"So what is it, Buttercup?" Miss Keane asked, still aware of the irregular nature of Buttercup's request, just that she chose to hope. "Don't be afraid to ask me anything. After all, you're here to learn."

"Miss Keane… What is 'Fuck'?" Buttercup finally asked curtly. The teacher was about to take a sip of her freshly-brewed tea when she heard the word and nearly spilled her morning beverage as a result.

"Oh, that…" Miss Keane smiled nervously as she thought about what to say. The shock of hearing it from Buttercup's lips had scrambled her train of thought, though she didn't know why she would be so shocked to hear it from the roughest of The Three, whose mental condition would make her predisposed to harsh language because of the raw satisfaction it could give. She ran through her usual lines in her mind - it wasn't the first time she'd heard it from a kindergartner's mouth. The last F-bomber had been Mac, who'd asked the same question early last year. "Well… It's, um, a word that adults say when they're… angry, or in pain, or really, really upset, dear."

"Does that mean I can say it too?" Buttercup asked enthusiastically.

"No!" Miss Keane said, alarmed, before realizing that she had to get a handle on the situation calmly. "Absolutely not! Remember what I said? It's what adults say. You're not an adult yet, Buttercup. Besides, it's a bad swear word, honey. Your Mommy and Daddy wouldn't be pleased to hear it - or any other adults for that matter. Okay?"

"But why wouldn't they like it? Or allow it? They say it all the time, especially when they're shooting at me, or when I'm shooting at them, or punching them…" Buttercup probed the matter further. True, she didn't like the sound of it whenever it was directed at her, but she thought she could throw it at her enemies like a punch as if it was another weapon to be leveraged on in combat.

'She's persistent,' Miss Keane thought bitterly.

"Because they say it when they couldn't control themselves," Miss Keane explained further and patiently. She could feel her hands getting sweaty. Her forehead too. It wasn't the same as explaining swear words to Mac, somehow. "Or when they couldn't think of any other words to say Buttercup. So don't let me hear you say it, okay? I believe I've taught you many other words to use. Can you promise me that, Buttercup?"

"Yes, Miss Keane…" Buttercup agreed somewhat reluctantly. The enhanced little girl thought that there was more to say about swear words and why they should be allowed - or why she should be allowed to use it, but she knew the consequences of pursuing what was thought to be wrong. After all, she had killed when she was not supposed to. What's a little swear word compared to that?

"Now, do you have any other questions?" Miss Keane quickly asked before Buttercup could say anything else.

"Yes, Miss Keane," Buttercup said, her eyes lighting up once more. Usually, when a child had a question with that kind of look on her face, Miss Keane would be thrilled to entertain her. But with Buttercup, it was a whole different story altogether. "What does 'shit' mean?"

And she could only be glad that she wasn't holding her cup of tea, and that the other children were far away so they couldn't overhear it.

"It's a bad word, blah, blah, blah - don't say it," Miss Keane explained in a more abridged format, laughing nervously as she found her patience a little worn. Never in her career had a child dared to ask about two swear words on a single day… Until now. Even if it was Townsville she was living in. Even the more roguish of the little 'uns were smarter than that and would be dissuaded and wiser the moment she saw her smile disappear. It wasn't a milestone in her now-colorful career she cared to reach. "Do you have words to ask me about that aren't vulgarities?"

"Oh," Buttercup became downcast all of a sudden, and Miss Keane could feel guilt rising in her - had she been too tough on Buttercup? For a moment, she had forgotten that she was dealing with a little girl who had to skip the first four years of her life due to some mad science experiment on the part of the USDO, and now she wanted to somehow make up for it. But unknown to her, Buttercup had a different reason for being upset. The bad words had been fun, but the moment she remembered the real reason why she had approached her kindergarten teacher, it was as if the weight of months of sadness had gone down on her.

Miss Keane reached out to Buttercup and patted her on the back, sensing something disturbing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Promise me you won't tell my Dad?" Buttercup pleaded with her teacher.

"What is this about?" Miss Keane asked, nothing if concerned. Buttercup was never the one to be upset over anything - her most common mode of expression was either one of an extroverted exterior or outright, aggressive meanness. The way she looked right then had overridden the fear Miss Keane had for a psychopathic outburst, though she wished that she was never given the brief on the USDO psychiatrist Alice's discovery of Buttercup's mental condition.

"Please?" Buttercup repeated her plea.

"Yes, dear…" Miss Keane promised, her own curiosity stoked as well. "Ask away."

"Why would I be called a 'subject' and 'lab experiment', Miss Keane? It sounds wrong, and what does it mean?" Buttercup finally asked, dredging up her earliest memories of when she realized something was… off, though she didn't know what. The uncertainty gnawed at her and had haunted her time and again over the months, added onto by other words used to describe her, words she had overheard when they thought she couldn't hear. It had been two months, and she still hadn't divulged the fact that she had developed a powerful sense of hearing that could be focused to listen in on a conversation far away, or that was obstructed by sound-unfriendly obstructions, something analogous to Blossom's ability to see with clarity something extremely far away, even zooming in on it as if her eyes were binoculars. "Why do they call me a lab rat, Miss Keane?"

It wasn't what Miss Keane expected, and it'd thrown her for a loop a second time around. She considered what Buttercup had asked about carefully, even as the enhanced little girl was looking expectantly at her because she knew it had something to do with the USDO and the fact that they had created the Girls in a lab somewhere. How, she didn't know for sure, but it didn't make for a regular childhood, whatever the method was.

On one hand, she was sure that the USDO would not want the Girls to know anything about their genesis, but on the other hand… Professor Utonium and Selicia had trusted her with the job of taking care of them - and they weren't exactly just acting as their parents. She had seen hundreds of parents before, and she could tell very well the negligent from the role models, and the professor and security officer seemed to be the latter.

The Girls had implicitly trusted her - that was perhaps the most important thing, and she wasn't about to betray that.

'What do I say?' the million-dollar question continued to reverberate in Miss Keane's mind. 'What should I say?'

"Miss Keane?" Buttercup repeated her plea, inadvertently pressuring Miss Keane to make the impossible decision.

"Buttercup… It's not your mom and dad who said those things, is it?" Miss Keane probed further, buying time.

"No, teach. It's my Dad's friends," Buttercup replied. "And people I worked with when I beat up the bad guys, too."

In a way, that had been a lie. Buttercup had heard more than she let on, and some of it had come from Mommy and Daddy's mouths. She just didn't want to ruin it by asking too much from the teacher.

On the side, in her mindscape, Miss Keane couldn't help but lament the state she had been reduced to. Mere months ago, she had a perfect life and a routine going - she would have been happy being a teacher for the rest of her life. And then the USDO came and put her in charge of the Girls' education. She could take the Girls as a challenge - after all, how many teachers on Earth would ever have the opportunity to educate what were essentially superheroes straight from the cartoons or movies? The difficulties of working with an overbearing federal agency that wouldn't hesitate to burn the constitution and whoever stood in their way, however, was certainly not what she wanted to put up with.

"A lab experiment is something a scientist do to find out how things work," Miss Keane explained. "They call someone a subject when she's… I mean, he's been… uh, tested on. A lab rat is a rat used as a subject…"

She had all but given Buttercup the facts, deciding that her duty was to the children first and foremost. But with reservations. She had decided to let Buttercup connect the dots, and having worked with children for a long time, she knew that it would be a while before she could fully understand the implications of it all.

"Maybe you heard wrongly, Buttercup," Miss Keane suggested. "They might not even be referring to you. They could be talking about something else."

"Yeah, Miss Keane. Maybe you're right," Buttercup said with a flat tone; she meant none of it. She knew what she had heard, and though she vaguely realized that her memory was not as perfect as it used to be, she could remember, word-for-word, what she heard. 'I'm sorry for calling the kids subjects and lab experiments,' Wiggums had said when he visited back in early December.

'They may look like cute little girls, but they are dangerous! They are living weapons. Creatures. They're things! Not human!' Blackwater had called her all sorts of names back when Mister Blake was marched off by the big oaf with crow's feet and wrinkles on his face. With Blackwater, Buttercup understood things a little better. The words he used were simple, but they'd said a lot about how he viewed her.

It was at the tip of Buttercup's tongue. She had the answer to the mystery of these words, she knew it! The only thing barring her from the truth was her inexperience with the way of the world.

But even she knew that if she gave it enough thought, she would be able to understand what was going on.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1305.**

"I knew that this would happen," Professor Utonium moaned as if he was in pain. He was sitting in Miss Keane's office, next to Selicia, his 'wife'. Miss Keane had called them for a meeting, about the Girls' development - well, mainly Buttercup and Bubbles. Selicia embraced him closely, trying to make the matter less painful. She couldn't be sure if it was helping. The Girls were his prime source of joy, even more so than she was or would ever be, and anything that happened to them were like grenades in his face, no matter how slight, no matter how inconsequential. It was a wonder he was still standing. "It's hard enough for a trained adult to keep his sanity and character intact whenever they head out there. I can't imagine… How much harder it is for the Girls."

Miss Keane had shown them the Girls' drawings in class - the ones she had kept hidden away in her 'Triple-B drawer'. The earliest one had dated back to just after the Girls' maiden mission at Townsville Central Bank. Buttercup had drawn a picture of her pulverizing a robber. After that, it was one gruesome sight after another, rendered increasingly detailed and accurate as Buttercup became better and better at drawing. Some of Bubbles' drawings weren't much better. Had Miss Keane looked at the drawings without knowing the kid, she would have thought that it came from a street kid in living in a bad neighborhood with a broken family or a young patient in a mental hospital.

And then she had told them about it. Buttercup's questions. Selicia couldn't see the big deal in it.

"And Buttercup… Jesus- Now that's exactly what she needs! Had she been a normal little girl, she wouldn't have learned those stuff just yet…" the professor lamented, looking like he was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He didn't just mean the fact that Buttercup was an individual enhanced by Chemical X - it wouldn't have mattered with that. It was her psychopathy that wouldn't be a good ingredient to mix with a load of expletives.

"Would it help if I say that it's not unheard of? For little children to ask such questions?" Miss Keane said. It wasn't the first time she had this conversation with a nervous wreck of a parent. That wasn't the problem - the problem was that they weren't dealing with normal kids here.

"Yeah, it's normal, right?" Selicia added, hoping to magnify the light Miss Keane was trying to shine on the issue. From her perspective, it was the norm for her. She had learned to swear right from the get-go, even before she went to school.

"Well, actually… nevermind," Miss Keane aborted her reply before she could do any real damage to their progress. "The point is, it's not the end of the world. Even when we're talking about… the other things. Buttercup's… um… issues and Bubbles' troubles. I've seen normal kids handle psychological issues similar to what your Girls are going through, and they turned out fine. It's part of growing up for some."

What Miss Keane did not tell them was that for every kid who turned out fine, there was one or more who didn't. But they didn't need to hear that. What they also didn't need to hear, Miss Keane decided, was Buttercup's other questions, questions that came too close to blowing the lid on the truth about her life and existence.

After all, she wasn't about to break a promise with one of her little schoolkids. 'It's like telling adopted children that they're adopted before they're ready - not exactly something one should do.' Miss Keane rationalized her decision, and it helped with her guilt and keeping a poker face in front of the Utoniums.

In the meantime, Buttercup had been listening outside the office, eavesdropping, just like she always did, while her sisters remained none the wiser, playing their lame finger games while they waited.


	6. Chapter 4: Rewards

**Chapter 4: Rewards**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Rosey Park Apartment Construction Site.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1526.**

It was the middle of the afternoon, and the Girls were near the end of another round of sky patrol. They had started after lunch with Mom and Dad after school, at Pugliesi's Siciliano Restaurant. It was awkward nowadays, going out with the family, since everyone knew what the Girls were in Townsville. Almost everyone in the restaurant was staring at them at one point or another, and the entire family had to pretend as though they were alone. It was impossible for the Girls to do so, especially when some of the stares implied dislike or anger. Not everyone had forgiven the Girls for the mistakes they had committed, but at least not everyone was bearing grudges against them. There was even once when a stranger walked past them and dropped off a 'Thank you' card discreetly. Security had to intervene and check the card only to find it harmless.

It didn't help that the Girls had to do it in uniform as the only place they could change in the proper environment was in school. The restaurant restroom would have been too small, too dirty and too public, requiring additional security in and out - the restaurant wasn't in the USDO watch list.

It would have been awkward even for an adult to sit down to a plate of macaroni in full combat gear. Grenades and law enforcement tools were hanging from their vests as they ate, and their MP5s were leaned on the chair they were sitting on with their glider packs - no thanks to General Blackwater.

But that was over and done with. They had gone out of the restaurant to take flight, and Mom and Dad stayed behind for their chat.

"This is Flight Control Three to Bravo-Four-Seven, over," this time, a male voice at flight control contacted them over the radio.

"Hi, Blossom here," the leader of The Three reported once more.

"Confirm flight path, over," the male flight control officer asked.

"We're meeting the Mayor, Mister Flight Control Three," Blossom said, with a hint of humor and playfulness in her voice. They were going to see the Mayor! It had been two weeks at least since they last did, and it was all fun and marshmallows the last time.

"Flightpath confirmed," the USDO flight control officer agreed. "You are drifting. Please turn right by 25 degrees."

"Like this?" Blossom made a turn. Bubbles and Buttercup followed, bending their three-colored line into an unsightly crook.

"Bravo-Four-Seven, this is not a game! Turn left again, 15 degrees. Not too much, over!" the flight control officer said impatiently.

"What's 'degrees' anyway!?" Buttercup rambled - she hated being told what to do. "Why can't we fly the way we want to!?"

"Bravo-Four-Eight, maintain radio silence on all non-essential chatter. Bravo-Four-Seven, your course correction is a-okay. Stay on it until you see the construction site, over and out," the flight controller said nonchalantly, essentially calling Buttercup to shut up in radio terms.

"How did they know where we're flying to?" Bubbles asked curiously, and when none of them had any idea how to answer that, the question was abandoned, and since it was uninteresting, forgotten. What was interesting, however, was when the construction site the Mayor was at came within sight. It was a new apartment building in the works that Blossom could imagine would be lovely when it was done. The Girls could only wonder why he wanted them there.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Uptown. Pugliesi's Siciliano Restaurant.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1535.**

"This is beautiful, Thomas…" Selicia said as she smelled the flower Professor Utonium had given her. It was done subtly so – they didn't want to burden the Girls with the complexities of adult relationships. Instead of getting the flower himself, he had to make a special request through the restaurant manager to deliver the Roses after the Girls were gone. The Restaurant Manager was more than happy to oblige. Ever since they'd become regular customers patronizing his establishment every week, his restaurant had become one of the safest in town, owing to the Girls and their USDO PTF bodyguards. Business had boomed since. Selicia looked up at him, with teary eyes. "I just… Thanks for everything. I didn't think I could do this at all."

Professor Utonium reached out for her hand and took it. He smiled warmly, the stress of parenting the extraordinary Girls temporarily forgotten when it was just him and Selicia. "You give me too much credit. It goes both ways, you know," he said with a laugh. Selicia thought it was cute. "When you came along, I thought you were just there to keep an eye on me and the Girls on the USDO's behalf. I didn't think I could love anyone older than my kids again if you know what I mean. You gave me a chance at life too."

Selicia wiped her tears away and laughed. She was never one to turn on the valve and let the waterworks flow, but this time, it was hard. Ever since she'd been out in the streets in her teenage years, she knew right from the start that she wasn't exactly the type of girl a man – a decent man – would want to be with. That thought had stayed with her even as she was recruited by the USDO and gone on to serve with both distinction and notoriety. People had told her just as much, if not more than what she told herself. She had been called a skank. A tool. A gold digger. The human vibrator. She was a jailbait before and after the legal age, before and after she joined the USDO.

Their lunch came just in time after that. While the Girls were around, they'd eaten light to both avoid suspicion and reserve their appetite for their date later, under the pretense that they weren't hungry. Selicia looked at their meals and beamed at the professor widely.

"Spaghetti and meatballs. Reminds me of our first date," she reminisced. "What did we talk about on that day?"

"That day? Oh, right," Professor Utonium wondered aloud, but he remembered very quickly what it was about. It wasn't just their first date. It was the day he understood Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup better. With an almost youthful grin, he recalled the conversation, though it would be more accurate to call it a scientific lecture. "I gave you a crash course on my Chemical X Unifying Theory… About what our Girls were made of."

"And… Buttercup was the spaghetti, right? Yum, I could eat her up!" Selicia added playfully. It was all coming back to her. Well, most of it anyway - she couldn't say that she fully understood what the professor was going on about Chemical X. "How's the sciencing coming along?"

To be truthful, Selicia never had any real interest in science - but for the sake of her 'assigned husband' and the Girls (mostly Buttercup), she thought she needed to start taking a real interest in it - no matter how much it hurt her brain.

"Really good, actually," the professor said. The few words he used to describe it gave no indication of what was to come. "Three weeks ago, I submitted my theory to the Institute for testing. The results just came back." Professor Utonium was absolutely quivering in excitement. Selicia tried to be as excited as she possibly could, but she found that it was a difficult thing to do. She twirled her fork around some spaghetti and ate a mouthful.

"Okay, long story short - the scientists at the Institute were able to detect a much higher incidence of quantum tunneling in their samples of Chemical X compared to normal matter - by the order of millions of times more. This, combined with their ultra-accurate measurement of its mass and volume variance over time, has more or less confirmed my suspicions that Chemical X is unique in its ability to provoke far more quantum incidences than normal, resulting in a fluctuation of its properties. Not only that, it opened my eyes to a new possibility…" the professor explained, oblivious to Selicia's confusion as he became caught up with the numbers and facts of his discoveries. However, when he saw that she looked like she was going to have a headache, he switched gears to bring his explanation down to her level: "Anyway, Chemical X is able to rearrange itself into any kind of pattern and shape instantly by shifting its subatomic particles around at the speed of light - and even beyond! It's incredible!"

"So, it becomes anything it wants… in zilch amounts of time?" Selicia tried to make sense of it, she honestly tried. She stabbed her fork into her spaghetti once more and spun herself another ball of pasta.

"Like what you're doing with your food right now, yes," the professor explained more plainly, as playfully as he could to match his wife's speed. What he said got Selicia to stop eating and look at the spaghetti she had spun up like cotton candy. She smiled like a kid at the professor for his analogy. "But that's not all. Using some of the most precise instruments the world has never seen before, they were able to detect spatial distortions around the Chemical X samples, and their electron microscopes have taken images of particles of Chemical X emerging out of thin air. My Unifying Theory is looking as good as the images they took, Selicia!"

"Isn't it a little too easy? Cracking the secrets of the universe in just a few weeks?" Selicia questioned as she studied her 'husband'. She liked it when he was this excited. She found it cute, but disappointed that he couldn't be more excited while he was attending to matters of a more… primitive and primal nature. She took a stab at a couple of meatballs, making a short kebab out of them.

"You're right it is," the professor said. "We've only just started testing the theory. We're only on the second phase of testing if my passable attempts in my poorly-equipped lab is considered the first. It's only the tip of the iceberg. But with Chemical X - the Girls - rushed into service just like that, we had to speed things up a little. I don't like to cut corners and jump to conclusions, but the Girls come first, and I've got to work with what I have… for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup."

"But what can we do with your theory to help Buttercup?" Selicia asked, now much more invested when Buttercup was mentioned. The professor smiled at her but briefly - they were going into uncertain territory, which was also potentially lethal and full of deadly consequences, even if it didn't directly involve guns and explosives like what his other half was used to. He was glad to have Selicia by his side even when it was rough in the beginning - but then again, he hadn't met a single person who could master the art of parenting instantly.

"I think I'm ready to work on curing the Girls of Chemical X, Selicia," the professor said as he clasped Selicia's hand in both of his. "They won't have to fight crime anymore and get scared or injured every day, and we won't have to be afraid of any long-term effects Chemical X might have on the Girls. We'll get to be a normal family."

What he didn't expect was a change in expression on Selicia's part. Her smile had sunk into something of a cross between horror, displeasure, and anger.

"Tommy darling, are you sure you want to 'cure' the Girls of Chemical X?" Selicia said. "They're healthy, Thomas. It's not like they're suffering from the Clap or something."

"It might as well be a disease, Selicia, and we don't know what Chemical X is doing to the GIrls on the biological, chemical and molecular level," the professor explained, knowing full well that it might not go well, but he had always known that doing and saying the right thing was often difficult - it's what he had taught the Girls. "Every time I see them flying out of The House, I can't help but be afraid. It's like waiting for a nuclear lab explosion every single day. They were hurt over and over back in December when it should've been the happiest month of the year."

"No, Thomas. You don't understand," Selicia jabbed at her other half, annoyance rising rapidly in her voice like an impending flood. All the science had gone right over her head. "You need to learn how to accept the Girls as they are! They're- they're special, and we're lucky to have them. Buttercup would never want her abilities to be taken away!"

"Selicia, Buttercup's not even three months old. She doesn't know what she wants, or what's good for her," the professor tried to say it the most gentle way he could. Selicia retracted her hand roughly, suddenly disgusted by the man sitting before her. "You have to trust me. Buttercup - she's not well, and her power's only going to make matters worse. Alice said-"

"ALICE SAID!" Selicia screamed madly the moment she heard the psychiatrist's name, knocking over cutlery, attracting the attention and stares of the surrounding restaurant patrons. She'd never liked the doctor, who was a quack in her opinion, a voyeur masquerading as a professional. She hated the fact that she was privy to some parts of her life she would rather forget about. "Is that bitch your wife now, Thomas!?"

Not that they were really married.

As intelligent as the professor was and in love with Selicia, he couldn't help but tremble when she blew up. Eileen, his late wife, had been too perfect and angelic a woman for him to marry - infinitely patient, gentle and loving. They were made for each other and would've been happy in each other's company until the day they die of old age until the Grim Reaper decided to get overzealous. It didn't prepare him for this.

"I- I- I- B-but-" he stammered as he struggled to collect his thoughts quickly, but he just couldn't. "Selicia-"

The sight of the professor so disturbed, with sweat pouring and an expression other than love on his face, however, was enough to tell Selicia something.

"No, Thomas, I…" Selicia started again, her face no longer in a grimace. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I was just… I can't believe I screwed this up-" And the tears started pouring, and there was enough to snap the professor out of his shock.

"Hey…" Thomas comforted her as he moved up closer to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "You didn't screw up. It's… just this crazy world we live in. I think it's safe to say that we're the only ones on Earth who have to worry about our kids fighting crime every day and an insane federal agency bearing down on us."

Selicia was happy. 'Our kids', Thomas had said. It wasn't long ago that he'd begun saying that. Not too long ago, it'd been 'my Girls', or 'my kids'.

"Imagine a boring life - the two of us, and Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup," the man said. "Far away from Townsville. A normal two-floor house, school, and work on the weekdays, the beach on the weekends. Watching the sunset in the evening, then television at night. That would be perfect, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," Selicia agreed. In this, they were of one mind. Selicia herself has had enough 'excitement' to last her a lifetime, from her unstable household in her childhood to her life out in the streets, and finally her stint in the Organization and when it turned into the USDO. "Just you and me, and Buttercup - and the Girls."

"I'm not giving up on Buttercup. Not ever, Selicia," Thomas said. "You have my word on that. She's my daughter too - I'd never hurt her. So believe me, taking her enhanced abilities away... It's for her own good. With some psychiatric help…" He had been careful not to mention Alice's name. "and some love from the both of us, I think she'd be okay."

"I'm so sorry I went off like that," Selicia apologized again, shaking her head at herself, though in her mind, she still had reservations about disempowering Buttercup. "I'm a real mess, Thomas... You sure you want to love me?"

"Selicia. I didn't love you because you're some impossibly perfect woman. I love you because you're you," the professor said, taking her hand again. "Tell you what - the USDO could fake our marriage and relationship all they want - but I'm making it official. How about we register our marriage? For real? We could start with some photos next week with the Girls. I wonder how they'd look like in a family photo…"

"You mean you're not getting down on your knees and proposing marriage?" Selicia said and laughed while she wiped her tears away. Thomas reached for the fake wedding band the USDO had issued them, playing with it. The USDO had ruined it for them.

"How about when you least expect it?" Thomas said. "Better be on the lookout, soldier."

They both laughed.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Rosey Park Apartment Construction Site.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1540.**

Mayor Wilford wasn't too hard a man to find, even though they were grounded by the chaotic construction work going on at the site. The moment they'd reached the right place, they knew he was there because of the black-suited bodyguards patrolling and protecting the area. When the Girls approached them, they were pointed in the right direction without any security measures taken against them - even their guns were not confiscated as they knew that it would not diminish how dangerous they were. On the other hand, even they knew that they would not be a danger to the Mayor any more than a sworn-in mayoral guard.

When Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had finally found Mayor Wilford, they didn't expect to find him in a workman's outfit, complete with a hard hat. Miss Bellum was there beside him, similarly dressed in a jumpsuit, with her ample orange hair stuffed under her hard hat, poking out fashionably behind her. Tucked away in the construction foreman's office, they looked incredibly out of place even with their attire. They were examining a blueprint of the building, and when the Girls came up to them, they looked up and smiled.

"Why, hello Girls," Mayor Wilford greeted the Girls like the fine gentleman he was, the way he was raised since the beginning of the century. "How was your patrol today?"

"It was nothing, Mister Mayor. We helped an old lady cross the road today," Blossom reported proudly.

"Nothing is right," Buttercup complained, but the Mayor found her interesting nonetheless. "All I did today was warn a jaywalker not to jaywalk again! And Blossom didn't even let me smack him! It was boooooooring! With a capital B!" The most wayward of the Three had to suppress her facial twitch again, this time with a big frown - it was happening more and more often. She could feel herself going crazy from the lack of stimulation - and Blossom was watching her night and day like a hawk, ready to zoom to Daddy's side at the speed of light the moment she even look at something wrong.

"No, it wasn't," Bubbles begged to differ. "We helped a kitty cat trapped in a tree to get down. It's fun to help, whether it's with people or animals!"

"Attagirl. I like what the three of you are doing," Mayor Wilford praised them. "Even if they are minor things, every little bit you do for the town will go a long way in making the city a better place."

"Speaking of helping, what are we doing here today, Mister Mayor?" Blossom asked, curious as ever. She floated up to the table and landed next to the blueprint on her knees. Bubbles and Buttercup floated up as well, hovering in mid-air before standing on the table.

"It's just like last time, in the soup kitchen," the mayor said, reminding the Girls of what they had done two weeks ago. In the middle of January, they were called down to the edge of the slums, and the mayor had asked for them directly. They came in expecting a high profile operation, only to realize that it was a peaceful humanitarian mission. What was unknown to the Girls was that it was approved by the USDO, to aid in public relations. They spent a couple of hours ladling food for the poor and destitute and handing out coupons and small gifts. Indirectly, having the Girls around ensured the security of the place, as even an enhanced individual with the Foundation would think twice before attacking the soup kitchen - not that there was any reason to. The hungry and the desperate could eat in peace as a result, shielded from the outside evil, as well as the more violent among them.

Blossom and Bubbles enjoyed the change of pace. Buttercup did not. But they all did enjoy the marshmallows and hot chocolate that came after that.

"Are we going to feed the poor here too?" Bubbles guessed naively. "I saw a lot of men out there who looked really tired and hungry…"

"That's a good guess, Miss Bubbles, but those men were just tired towards the end of their shift," Miss Bellum finally spoke, diplomatic as ever. "It's different today. We'll be helping the construction crew here to build an affordable home for the poor. With your help, we could speed things up - not by much - weeks at most - but as the Mayor said: every bit helps."

"Well said, Miss Bellum," Mayor Wilford praised his USDO liaison. "How did I do without you all these decades? With this apartment complex, I'll be able to move some of the poor out of the bad neighborhoods and get them jobs. Uh, anyway… Girls - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup - I really must thank the three of you for cleaning up my town good and proper! In fact, I have a surprise for the three of you, something that's coming soon… at least in my view. I'm an old man, after all."

"Is it another ride on your balloon?" Bubbles guessed. "I really like your giant balloon!"

"No, that wouldn't be enough for the three of you and what you've done to help the city, now would it?" Mayor Wilford said with a kindly and patient tone. "You three deserve more."

"Do we get a trip to Monster Island?" Buttercup took a stab at the nature of the surprise. She had seen the island far off into the distance before. She might not be able to see as well as Blossom, but she could make out the Ferris wheel and rollercoaster there. She'd even deviated off-course from her patrol route once to take a closer look, but she couldn't get far before Blossom and Flight Control caught up with her. They'd jumped down her throat for it.

"Now why would you want to go there? Monster Island's been abandoned for, oh, just about a decade now," Mayor Wilford explained. Monster Island had once been a thriving island amusement park that had been open since the shortly after World War II, featuring all the famous monsters Hollywood and Japan had to offer, from Frankenstein and Dracula to Godzilla and Mothra. It was closed because of safety concerns, rising crime, and diminishing interest. "So the rides won't work and it's dangerous to go there now. It's a haven for criminals and pirates, and even the police and coast guard won't own that place."

"But that's part of the fun!" Buttercup insisted – she wouldn't mind being surrounded by a bunch of low-lives just so she could tear them apart. She could acutely feel her need for violence inside her - her need to dispense her powers and see men quiver and get savaged. It sure beats playing house with Blossom and Bubbles - something her siblings had been forcing her to do for far too long; they were hoping to make her like it.

"It's too dangerous, my dears, even for the three of you," Mayor Wilford had no choice but to resort to lying. He didn't want to neglect the Girls on his watch and risk them running away for some cheap thrills to sate their misguided curiosity. "It's called Monster Island because there are monsters there too. Ones even the three of you couldn't defeat." Although to be fair, even he didn't know if that was true, considering the kind of monsters, both human and metahuman, they had to deal with just in Townsville alone. For all he knew, the Foundation could be hiding out there too, creating even more trans-human threats in their bid to sway the city to do their bidding.

What he didn't tell them – couldn't, in fact, because the Girls' understanding of the world was so limited – was that Monster Island served as a buffer zone for crime, to protect the better parts of Townsville, just like the tenement area, slums, and Gangrene Gulag, by providing a 'safe' area for criminals so they wouldn't set up shop in the better parts of Townsville. It would be a long time before he could solve these pressing municipal issues, and it would likely be his successor who would see it done.

"So… What do we do here?" Blossom asked, absolutely beaming at the Mayor. She was just glad to help. The reward for their endeavor could come later.

"I'm glad you asked," the Mayor simply said, before moving on to explain their role in the construction project. After that, he handed out yellow hard hats to them, which the Girls gladly took, likening it to playing dress-up, though the yellow safety helmets didn't go well with their black and color-coded SWAT gear.

They spent the next hour hauling steel beams up to the skeleton of the half-finished building, because the construction crew's crane was broken and out of commission for weeks due to maintenance. They then spend the second hour putting them into position so that the workers could rivet and weld them into place.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were able to enjoy the work, as they found it similar to playtime with their toy blocks, but bigger and more awesome. The impressive size of the work they were helping with was even able to convince Buttercup to look at the job with a more positive light, as her tastes were more boyish in nature, and construction was well within her interests, just like how she had an earth-mover in her model vehicle collection. Blossom just loved putting things together, like a giant puzzle, and she couldn't wait to see the apartment complex when it was done. Bubbles, on the other hand, found it a great diversion from crime-fighting and thought they were creating a gigantic work of art.


	7. Chapter 5: Like Before

**Chapter 5: Like Before**

**The City of Townsville. Sky. On Patrol.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1751.**

The Girls were back on patrol again after the fun they had at the Rosey Parks Apartment construction site. Most of the time, they would fly around Townsville, braving the cold wintry breeze, which they had gotten used to tolerating, without any criminals to fight. Despite the fact that they had been flying the same route day in and day out, the Girls were hardly ever bored as the view of Townsville's skyline and surroundings were breath-taking. Even Buttercup could appreciate it. Sometimes, they would patrol at a different height or take a slightly different route to see the view from a different angle, but most of the flight control officers didn't mind as long as their general direction hadn't changed. If anything, the flight control officers welcomed the Girls' erratic nature and need for change, as it meant that criminals couldn't predict them easily.

"It was fun helping out the Mayor with his building," Bubbles started after there was a prolonged silence between the three of them. The construction work, the very act of creation, had uplifted her. Very quickly, however, she was beginning to miss it. "I wish we'd get to help him more often." There was so much more she couldn't even begin to express. Was this what peace meant? That friends couldn't see each other as often? Her mind drifted to Mister Blake – when would it be that she would see him again?

"I'm sure we will," Blossom tried to help her sister find solace in hope. "Besides, there's another way we could have fun today…" Blossom had purposely left what she meant open for guessing.

"The Princess' ball! I can't wait!" Bubbles exclaimed with joy, remembering the day's highlight. "I wonder what kind of mask you'll be wearing, Buttercup."

"Ugh…" Buttercup said in disgust. "The only kind of mask I want to wear is a gas mask." The toughest of The Three had spoken from experience. During one of the two bigger (and more disappointing) operations they had participated in back in January, they had to wear gas masks because of the possibility of toxins having been dispersed into the air of the building they were supposed to storm. The Foundation was reported to have a presence there, in a ranch on the outskirts of Townsville. As it turned out, there were toxins alright, though they'd found out that they were immune to it when Bubbles removed her gas mask because she felt intolerable itches from wearing it. Nevertheless, Buttercup had since thought that gas masks were cool.

The topic of the masquerade was hot between Blossom and Bubbles, at least. They could only guess at what Elodie Morbucks had got in store for them. She had been keeping it a secret - in fact, they had noticed that most people had been keeping secrets from them. Blossom thought it sweet. Buttercup felt it to be sinister at every turn. The Girls chatted about the masks that they would wear for a while. Blossom was able to find a picture of an old masque organized centuries ago in one of the encyclopedias Daddy had given her, and she wanted one with huge plumes of feathers all around, or perhaps one that would make her look like a Raven, a bird she had taken a liking to for its intelligence, or a Hawk, a bird she liked too, because of how majestic and brave it looked.

Bubbles wanted something cute. Something that would make her look like Octi or a bunny. Buttercup's preference for gas masks hadn't changed despite her sisters' best efforts to influence her. They'd tried giving her examples of animals she would like, like lions and tigers, but Buttercup remained unswayed.

They didn't have long to talk about masks, however, when their radios crackled to life.

"This is Flight Control Seven. Please come in, Bravo-Four-Seven, over," one of the flight control towers chimed in all of a sudden. It was another female voice. Blossom found it odd. It would have normally taken days or even a week or two for them to be scrambled for an operation again - and she knew that it was another operation because they wouldn't have contacted them otherwise.

"Hi," Blossom replied. "How can we help you, Miss Flight Control Seven?"

"Uh, you need to stop calling me that. Also, I'm married," the flight control officer broke a little before going back to her routine. "Now… Bravo-Four-Seven, we have a tip-off at the industrial district. Steele's Stellar Steel. Gunshots reported, possible USDO fatality. The police report at least a dozen perpetrators. Adjust your heading by 40 degrees to the right. Do you know where the industrial district is, Four-Seven?"

"Yes, Missus Flight Control Seven," Blossom said, her name change for the lady in the control tower had forced a sigh out of the normally expressionless voice. "I've been memorizing Miss Keane's maps."

For more than a month now, Miss Keane had been busy teaching the Girls some… extra-curricular topics. The map of Townsville, under 'geography', had been one of them. While Bubbles and Buttercup were only able to remember the most obvious landmarks and roads, with the both of them being uninterested in staring at a large piece of paper full of lines that could cause eye-bleed, Blossom was able to commit much of the map to memory. While she couldn't rightly recall every tiny little street and building, she knew the different districts, zones, highways, main roads, landmarks, and the more important buildings, from the City Hall to all the major police stations in the entire municipality.

"Course adjustment confirmed. Stay on course until you see a massive L-shaped, zinc-roofed factory in the middle of the industrial district, over and out." the flight control officer said hurriedly before signing off.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**3 Feb 1989 (Thursday). 1759.**

When the Girls finally reached the site, they could hear sirens in the distance. The police had arrived, though they weren't breaching the site yet. A special police SWAT van with a spotlight mounted on top of it was shining some light into the sky, painting a pink circle with layers of hearts in it into the cloudy skies above. There was no mistaking it: they had found the place where they were needed.

They streaked across the sky, waving at the police officers on site, some of whom waved back. Not all of them did. It seemed that no matter what they did, they couldn't please everybody. Blossom, most of all, had wondered a lot as to why that was - shouldn't all the policemen be glad they were fighting crime?

Landing on the zinc roof of the factory, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup immediately retracted their foldable wings and dumped their flight packs. They quickly threw off their jackets, making sure to stuff them under the flight packs so they wouldn't be carried off by the wind.

"I hope we won't be late for the masquerade…" Bubbles whispered, already afraid that some sharp-eared criminal could hear them, even though it would be impossible for a normal human being to do so while they were in the middle of a wintry windy day, outside.

"Shh!" Buttercup shushed her rudely. Blossom began doing her thing, concentrating on the roof she was standing on. It didn't take much concentration before she was able to see through the roof - it was rather thin after all, even if it was made of metal.

The factory was complicated inside. There were vats of molten steel, an area where they were cast into beams and bars and various other shapes. It had its own storage area, where finished products were put in huge boxes and containers until they were shipped off by semi-trucks. It didn't take long for Blossom to find the criminals in question. Most of them were holed up in the steel-casting area, about ten of them, which was like a long hall without a ceiling where steel was poured into different casts, and they looked like they were busy packing some things. A few, three of them, were in some kind of office, and they were kicking some person Blossom assumed they need to rescue. Missus Flight Control Seven did mention that there was a possible USDO fatality. There were catwalks above, forming a second floor, and they were occupied by a couple of patrolling thugs, one with an assault rifle and another with a sniper rifle. A control room for a crane loomed over some molten steel vats, and there was one man in there with a shotgun.

The Girls' radio crackled to life once more.

"This is Mullens, you kids there?" came a most celebrated voice. Blossom answered for the team. They smiled; they liked it better when it was Mullens representing the police. It would have been a coin toss if it was any old random copper - some were grouchy while some were okay, others hated them and still others loved them, but they could never know, and what they hated uncertainty. "Looks like we got to work together after all. Have you seen how many of them are there and where they are, Blossom?"

"Most of them are in this big place with all kinds of metal stuff," Blossom reported. "But some of them are on top and there's some in the place where the adults sit and work. There's twenty of them, I think."

"Must be the office," Mullens identified the place she couldn't name. "I've got ten good men here. You know what to do?"

"Do you want it like before, Mister Mullens?" Blossom asked.

"That'd work. Ladies first, then," Detective Mullens said.

Bubbles didn't like the sound of it the moment she heard that there were twenty bad guys for them to defeat. It made it more likely that something was going to go wrong. The last time they had fought so many had been a couple of weeks ago. Neither did she like the fact that they would have to do it like the 'last time' because it meant that she would have to go in first.

Buttercup had noticed the look on Bubbles' face. She knew immediately what it meant. She could feel quite faintly what kind of emotions were running through her sister. A faint glimmer of sympathy asserted itself. "Bubbles, you'll be fine. You were fine the last time," she said. But it was but a glimmer, temporary and fleeting. She glared at her sister when the timid one wouldn't shape up on the spot. "Don't chicken out and ruin it, Bubbles!"

"Buttercup!" Blossom scolded the wayward one before turning to Bubbles and giving her a quick, reassuring hug. "We'll be right behind you, Bubs." She returned her stern gaze to Buttercup, who'd put on a defiant front against Blossom. "Buttercup, since you've been spoiling for a fight, you'll handle the big group - but don't kill any of them! I'll save the man in the office. Bubbles, just do your thing and if the bad guys on top are still shooting, knock them out."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**3 Feb 1989 (Thursday). 1801.**

Taking a deep breath, Bubbles floated a few yards upwards and turned herself such that she was upside-down and facing the zinc roof of the steel factory. With a sudden, powerful thrust, she busted through the metal fist-first, baby blue light streaking behind her, before finding herself in a cavernous factory. She could see them all now - men and some women down below her, packing what appeared to be boxes of metal syringes, men on catwalks just about to react to her. Guns were quickly pointed at her, at which point she sucked in some air and let out an ear-piercing scream, forcing everyone in the factory to cover their ears and collapse behind some kind of cover. Windows everywhere were broken, the glass shards exploding outwards. Some of the criminals who weren't prepared for it were caught in some of the glassy blasts, injuring them.

The police officers outside were prepared for it, having known what would happen based on previous experiences. They'd hidden behind their squad cars to avoid the glass shrapnel flying everywhere. When all was quiet once more, Detective Mullens ordered his task force to move in before drawing and cocking his own pistol with his daughter by his side, who did the same.

Blossom and Buttercup crashed through the zinc roof the moment Bubbles' sonic scream had run its course, creating an even bigger hole. While Blossom was making a beeline towards the office, incredibly concerned for the man who was still getting beaten up, Buttercup dropped down in the middle of the storage area. Bubbles zipped towards the catwalk as quickly as she could - the last thing she wanted was to get shot, and even if she couldn't be injured by regular firearms, the sensation was still deeply unpleasant to her.

Shouldering her MP5, Buttercup tapped the safety off and began firing a few shots the moment she could feel concrete beneath her boots. Blossom had said not to kill, but she didn't say not to injure, and although she knew what her glorious leader was going to say when it was all over, she decided to play dumb and live in the moment.

In the ensuing confusion when the criminals were still incapacitated by Bubbles' sonic scream, she'd knocked several baddies out of the fight by shooting them in the legs before zooming to them in a blast of green light and kicking them when they were down, sometimes scattering teeth. Gunshots resounded all around her, but she was quick to dash around the storage area, knocking down a long and tall shelf when she couldn't turn in time, causing it to fall and crush a couple more criminals - not that she cared if they lived or died. Circling around another six or so remaining targets, she focused on them, and time slowed from her perspective when she was in the zone - before taking aim and firing some choice shots, putting bullets in the shoulder of one, the arm of another, and one unlucky soul had a bullet rip through his thigh.

Letting her MP5 hang on her neck, Buttercup rushed them as they were beginning to back away and look for a way out.

In the meantime, Blossom barged through the door to the office, finding three men savaging another quite severely. Blood had spattered the surrounding cubicle walls and the victim was screaming hell and high heaven. Two of the thugs were kicking him, sometimes whipping their pistols at him. Another was using a lead pipe, now bloody.

"Hey!" Blossom yelled to get them to turn around, and when they did, the ones with the pistols pointed their weapons at her, but Blossom was faster with her eyes. Shooting out some quick infrared beams, their paths made visible as they were lined with Chemical X, she burned the men in the hands, forcing them to let go of their now-hot weapons. Blossom shot another pair of low-intensity heat beams quickly, knocking them down. One of them hurled on the floor before passing out in his own vomit.

Stubbornly, the last thug charged at her with his metal pipe. Swinging it at the floating little girl, he expected her to go down in one stroke, only for his lowly hope to be dashed to the wall when Blossom grabbed hold of his lead pipe mid-swing and gave him a kick to his face. He went down in a single hit.

Up on top, Bubbles barrelled into a criminal marksman as he was still recovering from her sonic scream - being closer to her, it was much more incapacitating to him than it was to his criminal peers on the ground. The tackle knocked him over the railing, at which point Bubbles quickly grabbed a hold of him by the arm and pulled him up. After taking his rifle and pistol and throwing them off the catwalk, she pulled a handcuff out of her belt and secured him to the railing.

"Sorry, Mister Bad Guy," she apologized before running towards the second-floor control room. Another guard stood not far away, and his friend's knock-down had bought him enough time to aim his hunting rifle and shoot.

_BAM!_

Bubbles didn't have time to react. The rifle slug had struck her in the throat, the surprisingly powerful force flooring her. Her ears rung. Flashes of bad memory pressed against her mind, and she could feel it crack. Her vision blurred. But she remembered her mission. Her need to keep things the same.

Flipping herself back up on her feet, she charged at her second target again, and when he fired another sniper shot at her, she ducked and narrowly avoided it. Coming up to him, she flew to his chest level and seized his gun by the barrel. Giving it a twist and breaking it, she knocked him over the head with it.

Just as he went down, the third suspect on the top floor got up and fired off his shotgun, alarming Bubbles when the pellets struck her all over her chest.

'Why does it have to be a shotgun!?' Bubbles thought as she slid on the grated metal floor of the walkway, right up to the wall of the crane control room. Pressing herself against it, she could feel her breath going out of control; she thought she might faint. She hated it when this happened, and she couldn't help but to cry softly as, just as much as she was afraid, she could feel the pressure to move forward when she imagined Blossom and Buttercup glaring and frowning at her for failing one thing or another – it'd happened before and it could happen again.

The shotgun-wielding shooter in the control station had heard her weeping. He couldn't tell before, but he believed he might have shot the one they called Bubbles. Might even have wounded it.

Badly shaken but determined to get out of this alive – the boss had promised to get him out of jail after some hard time – he opened the door as quietly as he could, his shotgun still pointed forward. He circled around the control station, and lowered his shotgun at where he presumed was the bioweapon… Only to find nothing on the grated floor.

"Huh?" He uttered, wondering where he could possibly look for a little girl in such a tight walkway, only to hear, vaguely, the sound of skin rubbing against dusty concrete above him. Looking up, he was barely even able to register a pair of glowing blue eyes in the dark before the thing jumped him, knocking him to the floor. It slammed his shotgun into his face. The shotgun went off again, and it seemed to have shaken the blue one.

"Stop shooting at me!" Bubbles screamed hysterically, more afraid than trying to intimidate. The man fell unconscious after that.

Back at the steel casting area, Buttercup was charging the remaining few suspects she had left to fight. They were firing at her, but she was dashing towards them in a zigzag pattern, making it hard for them to hit her.

One of them, however, hadn't fired a single shot. Instead, he was aiming his magnum pistol very carefully. After taking aim for some time, he fired. The gun exploded, but it released a Duranium slug, which whizzed towards Buttercup. He was a good shot too, and the bullet slid across Buttercup's side – causing a graze wound, a particularly painful one at that as the slug had shredded a lot of skin. Buttercup yelled in pain and clutched her side in as she tumbled towards the criminals, knocking over even more shelves, sending rebars crashing to the concrete floor. The criminals scattered, with three of them taking defensive positions elsewhere, knowing that escape was impossible, while one of them decided to try anyway.

At the same time, Bubbles had dashed outside to help Buttercup, only to discover the mayhem and destruction. She searched the storage area for Buttercup to discover her under some shelves, clutching her bleeding side. They were separated by shelves of concrete, and men were shooting at them.

She poked her head out in preparation for dashing to Buttercup's aid, but bullets were flying in her direction the moment she appeared. Two of them had shotguns, Bubbles knew. She'd seen the guns briefly, and she even knew how they sounded, how the shotgun pellets sounded when they struck the metal surface of her fallen shelf cover.

She ducked, well, more than ducked. She was flat out cowering behind her cover, overwhelmed by the irrationality ruling her mind. Try as she might, she couldn't overcome it. Every cloud of shotgun pellets sent her way had only made it worse, as they blew yet more holes in her flimsy cover.

That was when Blossom appeared. Unlike Bubbles, she didn't need to survey the scene the moment she arrived as she had already done it with her X-ray vision on the way. Zooming in the air towards Buttercup, she pulled the metal shelf off of her, before flanking the three bad guys, flying up to their side in an instant before letting loose a flurry of punches and kicks, knocking them out.

Buttercup was bitter, really bitter about the injury she suffered. She'd seen Blossom taking down the three criminals in their midst, but she knew there was one more, and she knew where he was going. As it just so happened, he happened to be the one who had fired the Duranium bullet, and so she set off after him, over catwalks on the first floor, in between vats of molten steel. It had bent at a right angle at some point, so she'd disappeared out of view from her sisters.

Back at the product storage area, Blossom flew towards Bubbles and landed next to her. Looking down at the blue-eyed Angel of Justice, it was clear from the look on her face and the sweat covering it that she was terrified. Jumpy. The Girls did not sweat as easily as normal human beings because of their heat tolerance - Blossom, for one, had no problem taking hundreds and thousands of degrees of heat in her face whenever she fired her heat beams. That said, they could sweat out of nervousness or fear, and Bubbles, out of the three of them, was most prone to this.

"I'm sorry I-" Bubbles said apologetically as she continued to tremble where she was, sitting, still, behind her cover with her knees going up to her chest. "I can't…" And now, she was afraid of disappointing Blossom, her dearest sister - the one who actually cared.

"Oh, Bubbles…" Blossom muttered sympathetically before stretching a hand out for Bubbles to take. She didn't dare to take it because she was afraid Blossom might blow up. She was too spooked, and now every little thing was a source of terror to her. All Bubbles did was to stare feverishly at her as she rocked herself in her place as if trying desperately, and failing, to calm down on her own.

Meanwhile, Buttercup had caught up with her morbid attacker. It was clear that he had fired the shot that injured her, as his gun hand was singed from the chamber explosion; he had to sacrifice a gun ill-suited to Duranium shells to get what he wanted. Well, not exactly what he wanted - she was still alive, albeit with some skin on her side split into two. She could feel the blood pooling underneath her vest. The pain was fast becoming unbearable, and it made her really angry.

Pulling out her pistol, she fired a few shots at him in quick succession, putting a couple of bullets into the back of his calf and thigh as he was running, causing him to collapse painfully on the grated floor of the industrial catwalk. He tumbled further because of the momentum, still many yards away from the exit. Flying towards him, she had to push aside his arm when he tried to shoot her with another pistol. Taking him by the wrist, she gave it a snap, resulting in a cracking sound. The thug dropped his pistol with a frightened, agonized shout.

With the thug's broken wrist still in her hand, Buttercup threw a look behind her, worried that Blossom might just suddenly appear around the corner to lecture her about injuring a bad guy, but she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, she could hear what was going on with Blossom and Bubbles. Sweet little Bubbles needed some reassurance from Blossom, and her dear leader was providing it.

"I'm sorry I got scared…" Buttercup could hear Bubbles and her stupid, high-pitched voice. "Please don't be mad at me… I'm sorry…"

"You don't have to be sorry, Bubbles," Blossom comforted her bluish sister off in the unseen distance. Buttercup thought her predictable - she believed that Blossom had always favored Bubbles over her. "You've been doing so well for so long... Bad things happen, that's what Dad would say."

Looking back around at her attack, Buttercup stared at him hungrily, unable to contain her need for blood sport any longer.

"Please don't-" the man begged. "All I wanted was another shot of it!"

Buttercup couldn't understand him. 'Another shot of what?' was as much thought as she was willing to give the man. Nor did she care enough to even try. With a smile that only a sick mind could make, she thrust her fist at his shoulder, dislocating it. With a foot on his side, began pulling at his arm by the broken wrist. It didn't take long for her to remove his arm with a splash of blood and the sickening crack of bone and cartilage. Buttercup thought she was fortunate when she didn't get much of it on her. One less evidence that she had done something wrong.

The man couldn't even scream as he was in shock. Tossing the arm aside, she flipped the man on his back and landed on her knees on top of his chest. Forcing open his mouth, she seized his upper row of teeth greedily and yanked, pulling out multiple teeth at once. She stuffed the bony trophies into her pocket.

Buttercup looked over her shoulder once more. Nothing.

"I'm sorry I made you go alone…" Buttercup could hear Blossom whisper to their mousy little sister. With a chuckle as she relished the opportunity, she delivered a few multi-ton punches to her attacker's face, caving his skull in and dislodging one side of his jaw. Huge and dark unsightly bruises were formed instantly on his jaw.

The thug's eyes were still open, rolling towards her. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was still alive - a fact that Buttercup would soon correct after she'd had her fill.

Getting off the thug, she began kicking at him, breaking a few ribs, puncturing a few organs, before stomping him in a lung, collapsing a part of his chest cavity. "Ew!" she cried, but with ecstasy as blood exploded outwards, covering her boot. She had even forgotten, briefly, that she was injured by a Duranium bullet, or why she was hurting the man in the first place other than the fact that she enjoyed hurting him.

He was still alive if falling into unconsciousness rapidly. Buttercup thought it strange that a man could survive such trauma, but the thought was fleeting - the pleasure of hurting was paramount.

When Buttercup was done torturing the man to her delight, not that she could do so for very long as she was afraid of being discovered by Blossom, she cracked a smile at the quivering thug, before seizing him by the windpipe. Digging into his throat, she felt around for the actual organ as the man croaked his last. When she could get a grip, she yanked it out, quickly silencing the man.

Walking around him, she put a foot on his shoulder and, with both hands clutching the jaws, tugged hard at the head. With a final yank, she was able to pull the head out along with the spine and gullet. She giggled childishly as she watched the head come off like the head of an action figure or a Lego man. She had rehearsed this for quite a long while with her toys - and her toys, so plastic and simple, could only last her for so long. More blood had splashed on the ground, though she was careful in avoiding it.

"Now where's Buttercup?" she heard Blossom wonder aloud far away, her super-acute sense of hearing still active. Gasping, she looked around the factory for a place to hide her handiwork. Flying upwards, with the thug's head and spine still in her hands, she spotted just the thing: an empty molten steel crucible, with a giant trough of molten steel yet to be transferred to it. Throwing the head inside anxiously, Buttercup zipped down to the catwalk to grab the body, then up again to do the same thing with it. Speeding to the molten steel trough, she tilted it by the machine handle and dumped the whole thing in. She had to bear with the pain in her side and clench her teeth all the while, as she had agitated her wound in the process of hiding her crime.

"What's that noise?" Buttercup heard Blossom say, probably to Bubbles. Dashing down to the catwalk, she sat herself down, leaning against the railing. She didn't have to act as if she was in agony, because she was. The graze wound felt like fire or acid, and it wasn't the kind that could be wiped away.

The wayward one had been on time. The moment she sat down with a whimper of pain, Blossom and Bubbles had rounded the corner, spotting her.

"Oh no!" Bubbles yelped in horror when she saw Buttercup.

"Buttercup!" Blossomed screamed when she saw her sister. Buttercup's hands were covered in blood, and the others assumed it was hers. All thoughts of curiosity and suspicion had evaporated when she saw Buttercup injured on the floor.

Blossom and Bubbles dashed towards her, reaching her within a second. In the meantime, the police had breached the factory from every entrance, including the exit just down the catwalk the thug was trying to get to.

Buttercup was a mistress of deception compared to her sisters, and shedding crocodile tears was within her arsenal. This time, however, she didn't have to act. Her face was scrounged up in pain, her tears real.

"Let me see it. Maybe I can fix it like last time," Bubbles said as she knelt down beside Buttercup and reached for the Velcro holding her vest together.

But Buttercup turned to her with a glare and pushed her away so hard that she fell on her bum, doing so both out of anger and fear of pain, as well as a form of distraction from her murderous deed.

"Don't touch me, Bobblehead!" Buttercup cried as she tried to adjust her sitting position only to feel what felt like a spike driven into her side. She gave up after that. Pointing an accusing finger at Bubbles, she lashed out at her instead: "I saw you, you crybaby! You left me there and wouldn't come out. You're a coward!"

"Buttercup!" Blossom said but could say no further. Her green-eyed sister had put her in a dilemma. She wasn't wrong at all to be angry at Bubbles, as she had been guilty of inaction and cowardice, forcing her to pick up the slack. However, it didn't make Buttercup's mean words and aggression right.

Bubbles didn't get up from the floor, instead crawling to the opposite railing and sitting there, leaning against it. 'What's the point anyway?' she thought. In her mind, her world had come crashing down in an instant, because of this stupid operation. She had always feared that this would happen, and so the month of peace she had bought for herself felt uneasy at times.

"I'm sorry…" she mewled, on the verge of tears. There was so much she wanted to say, but couldn't. There was a kind of terror in her that wouldn't let go – but trying to defend herself with that would likely result in her being called a coward again. The word hurt, no matter how many times her Daddy told her that only sticks and stones could break her bones. And 'coward' was only one word out of many that were like Duranium bullets to her.

"Be sorry all you want, Bubbles!" Buttercup continued to whale at Bubbles with her sharp words, some of which were partly inspired by Mommy. "You're still a dirty little coward no one likes!"

That had gotten Bubbles going with her tears and crying. In the distance on the catwalk, four police officers stood there and watched – the Girls had been blocking the way, and they didn't want to get involved in what they saw as an internal dispute.

"Oh great," Blossom muttered, and couldn't help but to feel a little helpless because of her sisters. But she would have to work with what situation she was dealt with. "She's really sorry now, Buttercup. Can I see where you're hurt now?"

"He shot me here…" Buttercup said as she patted her side very gently, off-center from the wound as she was too afraid of touching it. "It really hurts."

"Here, let me see," Blossom said as she reached for her Velcro, at first wary that Buttercup might lash out at her just like she did with Bubbles, but when Buttercup allowed her to get closer, began undoing the Velcro, trying very hard to ignore Buttercup's cries of pain.

"Down on the ground!" a police officer shouted in the distance, likely warning a suspect who was still conscious.

"This is the police, drop your weapon!" another officer ordered elsewhere. They could hear some scuffles and the sound of cuffs closing and locking.

Buttercup's wound did not look good the moment Blossom was able to remove her ballistic vest. The shirt underneath was torn where she was shot. It was like someone had tried to skin her alive – the Duranium bullet had scraped itself a path along her skin in her side. She'd bled a lot from it, but at least the bleeding had clotted.

Heavyweight footsteps stomped in their direction, and when Blossom turned around to see who it was, it turned out to be Detective Mullens.

"Holy- you Girls alright?" he asked as he put away his revolver and came closer. Bubbles was still having a meltdown on the grated catwalk, while Buttercup was wincing in pain. They looked like anything but alright, so the detective did not press his question any further.

"Buttercup's hurt," Blossom said and got out of the way to show him the wound.

"Now that's not good," the detective acknowledged. "Aren't one of you the team medic or something?"

"I don't want that loser anywhere near me!" Buttercup cried. Bubbles cried even harder when she heard it.

It didn't take a detective to figure out what was going on, but Mullens did not pursue the matter. He knew that the Girls had their differences, but he thought that it was something only they could solve on their own.

"Hey, Moe! Get a first-aid kit right away!" Mullens called out to one of the police officers still looking at the Girls. Shrugging off his trench coat and hanging it on the catwalk railing, he rolled up his sleeves. "I'll patch you up real quick. I've had to do it way too many times, so I know what I'm doing."

Buttercup smiled at Mullens, not just because she was glad to receive the attention, but also because the arm she had pulled out of the thug who shot her was safely out of sight, having fallen under the catwalk over the railing when she threw it away - she hadn't planned on that, and it felt like lady luck was with her.


	8. Chapter 6: Fresh Scents

**Chapter 6: Fresh Scents**

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**3 Feb 1989 (Friday). 1821.**

"It's only going to hurt for a second, okay?" Mullens warned Buttercup. He had carried her to the storage area where the criminals she had beaten into submission were being held. It was brighter there, and there was an administrative table for her to sit on. While one of his task force colleagues had gone to fetch the first-aid kit, he went on ahead to prepare Buttercup for treatment, removing the top of her uniform, then the singlet underneath. It didn't improve how the wound looked.

He could see the muscle underneath and the skin was torn like paper. Blood was clotted all around.

"Please don't…" Buttercup was straight up crying, a reminder that he'd been dealing with a kid all along. Sometimes, he'd forget this simple fact, and now it broke his heart to see the toughest of The Three this way, even though he knew that she wasn't quite right in the head.

"I'm going to have to do it, it's for your own good," Detective Mullens said as he held a bottle of disinfectant and a gauze soaked with it. "Just hold your breath and think happy thoughts." Gently, he tapped Buttercup's graze wound lightly with the gauze, himself wincing when Buttercup outright screamed like the baby girl she was supposed to be.

Blossom could feel Buttercup's hand tighten around hers, hard. But it was over quickly, as Mullens had promised.

"There you go," the detective said. "You took it like a champ, Buttercup. You should be proud of your sister, Blossom. Don't forget to tell your father about the wound. He'd know what to do with it." With that, he grabbed a roll of bandages from the first-aid kit. Unfurling it, he began wrapping it around Buttercup's side, stomach and back. He wouldn't be running out anytime soon - Buttercup, like her sisters, was so small, being physically five - another reminder of the odd Townsville fact that the city's rising heroines were kindergartners.

When he was done, he tied the bandage around Buttercup's back. "And what do you say, Buttercup?" he asked candidly.

"Thanks, Mister Mullens," Buttercup said, her tears drying up quickly. She was the toughest of The Three, after all. And now Mullens could only wonder how Bubbles was doing. He knew that Bubbles was the sensitive one, and so he knew that facing rejection from her own sister must had been very hard to take. Nevertheless, he had a solution for that too, and it wouldn't hurt as much as the solution he dabbed onto Buttercup's wound.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**3 Feb 1989 (Friday). 1822.**

Bubbles was still crying long after facing an angry Buttercup. As there was still work to be done, Blossom had no choice but to dismiss her, and so Bubbles ran out of the factory and sat in an alley all alone, on the snowy floor. It was cold, but Bubbles didn't care. To her, the temperature was nothing next to what she had just suffered. 'Just let her go, Blossom! She's useless anyway,' Buttercup had said when she thought that she was out of earshot - and she'd heard it clearly.

But she didn't have to be alone for long. A German Shepherd was padding up to her, and when she looked up to see who was approaching her, she saw that it wasn't a normal dog. It was wearing a canine Kevlar vest with 'TPD' clearly printed on either side, and it even had a helmet with shades over its eyes. It was larger than most German Shepherds, not that Bubbles had any basis for comparison. Oddly enough, it had a radio attached to the 'chest' of its vest with an earpiece going up to its left ear, as well as a pistol and several magazines holstered on its back - even if the dog could use them, they'd be out of its reach.

The dog came up next to her, panting. Bubbles, so curious that she had (mostly) stopped crying, pushed her legs down and away from her chest. She put her hand out and the German Shepherd started licking her fingers. Bubbles was still sniffling and tears continued to fall - and it was as if the dog noticed it. Snuggling up closer to her, it began licking her in the cheeks and nose, and it felt good - it felt as if someone cared. Just when Bubbles thought she could never do so again, she giggled and laughed as the dog continued licking.

"See? Rit's rot so bad now, ris it?" the German Shepherd said, out of the blue, out of nowhere, totally unexpectedly. Bubbles' eyes widened and she practically jumped away from it and knocked over the oil barrels she was hiding behind. "Wrrroops! Sorry! Didn't rean to scare you!"

Bubbles was completely speechless. A talking dog? How? Why? Where did it come from?

"Y-you can talk?" Bubbles stammered as she continued staring at the dog, unable to believe what was standing before her.

(Linguistic Analysis: Subject known as 'the talking dog' substitutes sounds made by the lips almost always with a growling 'R' sound, as well as adds the 'R' sound to some words. Sometimes, the 'R' sound is added at random, perhaps due to habit.)

"Ri sure can, sister," the German Shepherd said, then sat on its hind and used its right forepaw to push its shades up, revealing intelligent eyes that glowed brown faintly. "Rell, rat reast you're rot crying row."

Bubbles considered its - his words for a moment. He had intended to comfort her. She smiled at the gesture, and at how magical the moment was.

"There ryou go! Rook rat you," the dog continued as he wagged his tail. Bubbles smiled even wider. "You're reautiful when you do that, at least ras far ras huran females go. Re glad you're not rocked berind a face as rigid as rine."

"Thanks," Bubbles said, but struggled to decide how to address the dog. The fact that it could talk so intelligently had made things less clear. "Urm… Should I call you doggy?"

"Ronly ry friends call me that, not that you're rot a friend, rof course," the enhanced German Shepherd rambled on. Bubbles thought that it sure could talk in volumes, not that she minded it. "Ahem." The dog straightened his back and peaked his ears. "Ratrol-dog Stanley Talker at ryour service. That ris, Ri actually just graduated from the police racademy, ry the way. Rafter a crash course, rof course. They couldn't rait to rut re rout here."

Bubbles hugged the talking dog, and as he stopped talking, gave him a squeeze and taking her time to enjoy the moment.

"Thanks, Mister Stanley," Bubbles said after letting go of the dog.

"Ron't rention rit," the dog said. "Now how rabout re get rack rinside? Rit's cold rout here. Say, ranna ride me rin? Ri'll roffer rit free this time. Rhat do you say?"

Bubbles beamed at him for the offer. The talking dog was even big enough to act as a mount for Bubbles as she was only five years old, physically. It felt like a dream come true, riding a magical dog back to her sisters, except it was beyond what she had dreamed up thus far for her drawings.

"Can I really!?" Bubbles squealed excitedly.

"Roff course you can. Rop on!" Talker said, coming up beside her so she could mount up. Bubbles floated over him before letting herself drop on top of him, and when she did, he didn't seem to feel the weight. As it turned out, the talking dog had been enhanced in physical strength as well. "Row! Ri rish ri could fly like you. Ranyway, here goes."

With that, Patrol-dog Stanley Talker took off towards the cargo bay door of the factory, proud that he had done a good job at doing what Detective Mullens had ordered him over the radio to do.

"Did anyone ever told you that you talk funny?" Bubbles giggled as the enhanced German Shepherd bounded towards the cargo bays of the factory.

"Rall the time! Huran sreech ris hard!" the talking dog explained.

"Doesn't fit ry routh!" he panted as he transported the girl, as if proving his point that his mouth had difficulty in forming the words.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**3 Feb 1989 (Friday). 1823.**

The man Blossom rescued was in bad shape. His jacket was soaked through with blood, his skin breached by bone at multiple places. The paramedic attending to him had pronounced his chance of survival to be uncertain. While having over a dozen broken bones did not threaten his life, the massive internal bleeding and major organ damage did. While he was being brought out on a stretcher, Blossom stayed with him, feeling sorry for the man even though she didn't know him.

But Captain Caylon 'Butch' Butcher, the USDO representative who had just arrived on the scene, knew the man. As the paramedics were carrying the man out, he and his SWAT soldiers had stopped them so he could question him.

Blossom had found out then that the injured man was a USDO infiltrator working under Jackard of USDO Intelligence. The rest she figured out on her own: he was found out by the bad guys in the factory, who proceeded to beat him to a pulp, and they would have executed him too, had she been too late.

Despite the paramedics' protest, Captain Butcher had his soldiers put the man on a table to make questioning him easier. Blossom was there, and so was Detective Mullens.

"What did you find out?" Captain Butcher had asked the intelligence agent, dispassionate, distant, his voice surprisingly wispy and whispery. Unknown to Blossom, the captain was a USDO operative who had lived up to his surname - whose leadership style and combat technique was brutal even by USDO standards. He had no compunction whenever he did whatever it took to carry out his duties, even if he had to shred apart a hundred civilians to get to a single mutant freak in Afghanistan, he'd do it without hesitation. He would tear a woman tied to a chair apart one strip of skin after another, one shred of muscle after the next, if it meant finding out about the most remote and briefest of intel about a target he was hunting down. And he'd do it until she had no legs left, too. Even General Blackwater was wary of the man, and not just when it came to deploying him.

But Blossom was catching up quickly, as there was a certain aura around the man - the way he spoke, the way he carried himself, how eerie the silence was around him had told Blossom the truth about Captain Butcher.

The Infiltrator could barely even move. When he did, he'd put his hand into his pocket and took something out - even this gesture alone seemed like too much from the way the man's hand had quivered from the effort.

He was grasping a pendant of sorts, and as if the weight of it was too much, he dropped it on the table. Captain Butcher took it by the cord and brought it up to get a better view of it under the light.

The pendant was teardrop-shaped, with the symbol of what appeared to be a crab claw in it. The captain turned to Blossom, who jumped when he did.

"This familiar to you, lab rat?" he asked brusquely. When Blossom wouldn't answer out of fear, he widened his eyes and contorted his face as if offended. He continued in an insultingly patronizing tone: "Does the little girl need a doggy treat before she answers?"

"N-no," Blossom answered meekly, her eyes going to the table and the severely injured operative as she couldn't bear to meet Captain Butcher's steely eyes. "It's not."

"Let me see it," Detective Mullens put his hand out for the captain to hand the pendant over, at the same time giving the captain an angry stare. The USDO officer did it reluctantly as if the detective himself was an enemy to be watched carefully. When it was in his hands, the detective did the same thing as the captain, holding it under the glow of the fluorescent lamp overhead. "The Cult of His Arm. Junior branch of The Cult of His Promise."

An unintelligible whisper interrupted the detective. Both men and Blossom turned to him. When the injured infiltrator couldn't speak loud enough, he used his finger instead, and, with his blood, wrote with a shivering hand a word on the metal table that was almost as unintelligible as his whisper.

'DRUG', the detective was finally able to make out what it said after a hard stare. Of course. He had a brainwave after that. The cults were working with the Lombardi. Why wouldn't they? While it may seem that they were just a bunch of nut jobs worshiping some invented deity in a new age religion, they were a fringe group full of outcasts. The Lombardi was a fringe group full of outcasts. It would make sense for them to be in it together. The detective had seen his fair share of dangerous cults in Townsville. Some were suicide cults that went extinct one way or another - he'd helped saved some but lost some. Couldn't prevent people from believing that they should off themselves because the apocalypse was upon them. But then there were the more dangerous kinds that only Townsville was capable of producing, and they would make Charles Manson look like a Christian boy scout.

Yet The Cult of His Arm, and the biggest nuthouse of them all, The Cult of His Promise, seemed to exist on a totally different plane of existence altogether. He'd heard the stories, done enough cases to know that they weren't the kind of people to trifle with. There was a reason why they had continued to exist for a couple of decades, despite the rumors and cases against them, and it wasn't because they had been taking in the poor - well, unless it was because they had been taking in the poor for special reasons. Cult reasons.

The connection was immediately obvious. His Secret was likely manufactured in part or whole by the cult. At that moment, Detective Mullens believed that he had finally made progress in his case against the Lombardi.

"Hmm. I can speak for the USDO. We know about the loonies, alright," Captain Butcher said. "Looks like we have more targets in our sights."

In that instant when the USDO officer had verbally abused Blossom, the detective knew that he would hate the man with a passion, but for now, he could agree with him.

"Not yet. We'll have to do some sniffing and scout around before we pick a spot to raid," the detective said.

"I'll make sure the USDO council knows about this," Captain Butcher said, his voice still a deadly whisper. "And then it'll be extermination time soon enough."

"Speaking of sniffing…" the detective said, and as if he knew, he turned to the cargo bay doors near the storage area. Sure enough, what appeared to be a German Shepherd with the TPD's K-9 unit had come in from under a half-closed bay door, curiously without a handler but with Bubbles on its back. It came running towards them like a mini pony with a princess on top of it. Blossom stared in disbelief at Bubbles; a little girl in SWAT gear riding a dog in what amounted to canine SWAT gear wasn't a common sight. Buttercup had flown over to the men and her sister to look.

"Thanks, Mister Stanley," Bubbles thanked the dog, who was panting enthusiastically after he had done his job.

"Talking to animals again, Bubbles?" Buttercup taunted with her arms crossed, still sore about Bubbles' cowardice. The German Shepherd snapped his head towards Buttercup and growled as a normal dog would.

"Grrr… Who're you calling ran ranimal?" the talking dog growled and revealed its true nature. Buttercup's eyes widened with surprise. Blossom, who was previously just looking away, did a double take on the dog. Captain Butcher didn't seem surprised to hear the dog speak. Neither did Detective Mullens. Olivia was coming up to them too, and she didn't seem disturbed at all. Blossom and Buttercup looked at each other, then from one person to the next, and could only wonder what was going on.

The detective broke into a pleasant smile - it was rare seeing him like this, even after he had tidied up and sworn off the alcohol and cigarettes.

"Girls, meet the one and only talking dog," the detective introduced the German Shepherd to Blossom and Buttercup.

"Rame's Stanley Talker," the dog managed his own chosen name confidently - there were consonants that were mostly inaccessible to the dog because of the structure of his mouth, and this time, they weren't there. He wagged his tail in anticipation - even before he'd met Bubbles, he'd known about The Three from within the TPD. He saw them as his kin - born from chemicals. Him from W, they from X. They were all from the USDO, and he assumed that the four of them had a love-hate relationship going with the USDO. "Rit's rice to reet you."

"You get to ride him, Bubs?" Buttercup said in disbelief. "Why don't I get to do that? I deserve it more!"

"Rot fror where Ri stand," Talker criticized, his eyes pinned on Buttercup as if she was prey. He knew that something was up between Bubbles and Buttercup. It became quite obvious when he saw Bubbles' human expression turning into one that meant sadness, an analogue to a dog's limp ears and tail.

"Caught any new scents outside, Talker?" Detective Mullens asked.

"Hrrr… r-no. Revery-rone's rin here," the talking dog reported as it sniffed at the air again. He then turned to the suspects being held at the storage area, who were being guarded by police officers both uniformed and plains-clothed. "Strange, some-rone's rissing. Ringering smell, rut no rore fresh scent."

The detective turned to the Girls. "Did anyone escape?" he asked.

"Not that I know of," Blossom said, then turned to Buttercup, who was panicking a little inside because of her dirty little secret, though she managed to keep it locked behind her face and teeth. "Buttercup?"

"They were all here. I fought them all," Buttercup lied.

"Then what were you doing at the corridor?" Blossom pressed her wayward sister.

"I… just needed a place to sit down," Buttercup tried to build on her lie, and she had just the thing. She turned to glare at Bubbles. "It wasn't exactly safe to sit where I was. Right, Bubbles?"

"Bubbles? Seen anyone bailing out?" the detective asked the last of The Three, but she seemed down once more, but at least she wasn't crying.

"No…" Bubbles mewled, shaking her head without looking up. The talking dog looked on, concerned.

"I didn't see anyone in a hurry outside either. No tracks in the snow. No blood, no personal effects discarded. Not so much as even a spit of saliva," Olivia, who had just joined them, reported.

"Hrrr… Could re rossible some-rone left refore the Girls came rin," the talking dog suggested. "Strange rhough, recause Ri didn't catch fresh scents rof him routside reither."

"I guess it's time I start 'interviewing' my customers," the detective said, with a dash of severity and callousness in his voice. "I guess you Girls are done here. You may go."

The talking dog, still concerned for Bubbles, had put a paw in her hand, and she held it tightly. Stanley Talker thought that it was a shame he didn't have more time to spend with Bubbles - she seemed like a nice kid, and especially in need. But their paths had inevitably separated them - he had long switched owners from the USDO to the TPD, while the Angels of Justice he heard so much about, as far as he knew, were still owned by the USDO.

"Can't I help?" Buttercup asked the detective as she subtly peeked at the suspects with bloodlust in her eyes. "Like last time? With Marcello?"

"Nah, I'm good. Besides, you're hurt and… Don't you have some party to attend?" the detective scrounged for an excuse.

The party. The masquerade ball. Buttercup could vomit from thinking about it. The truth was, she would rather tear a man from limb to limb here - she'd done it to one of the bad guys and it felt good. The look on the man's face, his fear, the way the meat felt as she separated them - the act of discovering what was inside a man. The satisfaction and feeling of power when it came from it, the cathartic rush of adrenaline, felt so good. Once she'd tasted it, she simply wanted more.

"Alright. Goodbye, Mister Mullens, Olivia. It's nice to meet you, Mister Stanley Talker. Let's go, Girls," Blossom ordered and took flight with Bubbles waving goodbye to Stanley Talker. Buttercup followed reluctantly. She would have to find another opportunity to hurt someone and collect more trophies the next time.


	9. Chapter 7: Smoke and Mirrors

**Chapter 7: Smoke and Mirrors**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1904.**

Blossom found the image in the standing mirror unreal. It was simply amazing what a few bits of extra cloth, stones, and some powders and liquid could do to a girl. She was standing in a sparkling, dark pink sequin dress, complete with a black choker, sash and wrist ribbon to contrast the sparkly pink. She had rings on her fingers, inlaid with rose quartz and onyx. She was paler than normal, the result of the make-up Selicia had helped apply, and it'd helped bring out the red-themed lipsticks, eyeliners, and eyeshadow. All that was left was the hair, and even without a do-over of her hair, she didn't look like some 3-month-old lab-grown bioweapon of a killing machine routinely sent to tango with the dregs of the dregs. Instead, she looked like someone as rich as Princess, and she believed that that was her Mom's intention.

She had been waiting on Bubbles, who was absentmindedly brushing her hair, still no doubt fighting off her newly-acquired demons from the steel factory. Her pigtails seemed a little lob-sided, there were some strands of golden hair sticking out, and her tears were ruining her make-up. It hurt Blossom to see her like this when they were so close to Princess' masquerade ball, something they had been looking forward to all week. Well, she and Bubbles anyway.

Coming up to Bubbles, Blossom took a silk handkerchief and wiped her tears away. Taking the brush away from her, she put it down and began undoing her pigtails, just so that she could give her hair the attention of someone less emotionally affected, and highly skillful.

"It's over, Bubbles. Those men and women were taken away," Blossom tried to calm her sister down. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"You don't understand. It's never over," Bubbles tried to make her understand, but what she was truly saying was lost on her. How could it never be over when it obviously was? Blossom could never understand, not with three months of life experience. Sure, she'd had her episode when Bubbles was nearly killed, but she'd mostly gotten over that when they'd chased all the monsters away back in Morbucks Industries Research Labs.

They were silent for a while, as Blossom did one pigtail then the next, making sure that her hair was symmetrical, falling beautifully like fountains on either side of Bubbles' head. Bubbles was wearing a similar dress, except with dark blue sequins. Instead of a choker, she had a necklace full of sapphires instead, though her sash and wrist ribbon were the same. Her ruined make-up had been blue-themed instead. The blue lipstick was especially unique.

"I wish I'm a normal little girl," Bubbles lamented as she looked at herself at the mirror, just imagining how she'd look like as a regular little girl. How her eyes would look like when they did not glow.

"I don't know…" Blossom said. "Normal little girls don't get to fight crime and save innocent people."

"But I don't want to fight crime," Bubbles said, trying not to cry anew. "I'm not good at it anyway. Buttercup's right. I'm a loser." Recalling what Buttercup had said to her in the steel factory and how she treated her had made not crying challenging. It was a challenge she was losing. Blossom had to wipe away the tears a few times more to prevent Bubbles' makeup from being further eroded.

"Buttercup will cool off – you know how she's like – don't listen to her angry talk, Bubbles. You were good," Blossom tried to praise Bubbles, but she had to believe very hard in her own lie. On one hand, Bubbles did take down three of the drug smugglers in the factory and she had the sonic scream to boot, which was perfect for the opening they had devised. But then again, she had cowered in a corner when Buttercup needed help - even when all it took was a few punches to knock out the remaining armed thugs.

"I was really scared…" Bubbles confessed again. When she saw that her pigtails were done, she turned to Blossom. "How are you not scared?"

That was when the door opened, and Selicia Goodwin, their Mom, stood at the doorway. She was wearing a seductive black dress with a split skirt, necklaces with some green stones in them, and lots of other jewelry and accessories with a green-black theme. Like them, she had worn make-up to make herself seem paler to contrast her everything else. Her jade eyes, like that of Buttercup minus the glow, was emphasized that way. Ever since settling down as the Girls' 'mother' and Thomas' 'wife', she had been growing her hair, and with some careful nurturing, had managed to lengthen them by two inches. Now, they were touching her shoulders.

"You Girls done yet?" she asked as she leaned against the door frame. Bubbles turned to her, and Selicia frowned when she saw what she had done to her makeup by crying. "Bubbles! I worked hard on that, you-!" She sighed, exasperated by how weak Bubbles was - after all, she had faced worse and gotten severely wounded without shedding so much as a teardrop - without so much as an ounce of Chemical X in her.

Bubbles' eyes returned to the floor in shame. It was the first time in weeks since Mommy had scolded her like that. Selicia, perhaps wanting to keep the peace as well, stopped herself before she blew up, no matter how hard it was. Years upon years of pent-up rage, discontentment and injustice were hard to put a lid on, but she knew she had to try… at least for Thomas.

"Argh! Go to mommy's dressing table and I'll do it again, alright, honey?" Selicia ordered Bubbles, her voice still shaking a little from repressed anger. It wasn't just the past, nor Bubbles, that she was angry and upset with. "Now, Bubbles. Just wait for me there, okay? I need to have a little girl-to-girl chat with Blossom."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown South. Hagues Apartment. Mullens Residence.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1908.**

It had been a long day, but to Garrett Mullens, it was about to get longer. To him, there was no start or end to a day. His life had just been one long day, ever since the night that marked the start of Townsville's descent into Crimesville when criminals would blatantly step in front of a police car and unload a submachinegun on it. His partner and best friend twenty years ago had died in that shooting. He'd been limping on ever since - even though his leg wound had healed completely.

He'd been hard at work behind his desk, pulling red strings from one pin to another, drawing a web of fate like a spider's, a web that was meant to trap the Amoeba Boys. He would have felt like celebrating had he been 21 years younger. He'd finally added a new polaroid to his evidence board after more than two weeks of cold trails, smoke screens, and mirrors. It was truly surprising how a huge criminal network like the Lombardi's could just disappear when they need to - it was proof that they were still rats under all that glitter of success, under all those fine suits, cigars and champagne.

The shootout at Steele's Stellar Steel had been a lucky break. Although he hadn't had the time to grill all of the suspects at the crime scene in detail yet, the cargo they were trying to ship and their names were all that was needed for him to pin it on the Lombardi and their trio of bulletproof dons. That, coupled with the pendant the USDO infiltrator had gotten, had ensured that his case, too, was bulletproof.

They had been shipping more of the strange street drug, His Secret. He still thought that the name was an odd choice. Normally, street names for street drugs were chosen for simplicity and ease of communication, to be whispered softly between dealer and user. More than a month ago, back when he was still one of those who thought that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were more hindrance than help, more a joke than the jagged edge of the USDO, he had sent His Secret to the lab for testing. For two weeks, they'd tried to identify every component, and for two weeks, they'd failed. It'd been making the rounds from expert to expert since, but none of them could make heads or tails of the main bulk of the stuff beyond the solvent.

Shouldn't chemistry be straightforward to those guys?

Some of the suspects had links to the Lombardi. Enough to pin it on them. One of them had cracked under the promise of a dose of His Secret, that the Lombardi was working with the various weird cults of Townsville. The Cult of His Promise had a big part to play in this. The Cult of His Arm formed the muscle under the Lombardi skin this time.

That one confession had widened the playing field, brought in more players. And opportunities. And he had the cards to go all in on it. Ever since helping to detect the terrorist attack that would begin in the Morbucks labs and sending the Girls their way, the big shots (beyond his negligent police chief) had taken notice of him and what he was doing. He had been promoted after years of being in a career dead-end, and he was given the task force he needed to bring down the mob - or at least the biggest one of them all. The sideshows could wait.

Soon, he didn't know when he'd be raiding a cult compound. It wouldn't be easy, but as long as he wasn't up against a supercomputer monkey with a psychotic grudge against men in uniforms… He could almost taste the day when he could finally walk up to the Amoeba Boys, slap some cuffs on them and bring them in.

"Dad? Dad!" he hadn't heard Olivia's voice until the third time. He turned around, shocked. It was his daughter, standing behind him, looking pretty confident in her plain clothes. Finally a detective. He couldn't be prouder. The old lady would have been very proud, had she still been around. "I swear, you'll be working yourself to death if you keep this up, and then we'll have to arrest the Amoeba Boys without you. Anyway, here's a little something from the mail."

His daughter had been more right than she knew. The detective could already feel like he had a foot in the grave, a consequence of being so close to finishing something huge, or so his old man would have him believe - that was what his father had felt like when he was about to fight one of the final battles of World War I.

Olivia handed something to him, and it landed on his desk. A manila envelope, with crudely written address, likely done so with adult supervision, judging by the poor and inconsistent handwriting. The letter was likely from a kid. Something even a green detective would have easily figured out.

"What's this?" Detective Mullens asked, genuinely surprised. "Last time I checked, I haven't had a fan mail since over a decade ago. The kids absolutely hated me whenever I hit their classrooms." He meant it in more ways than one, whether it was visiting a school to give a police lecture, or to arrest some juveniles for drug or alcohol possession. Or murder. In Townsville, even the kids were suspects.

"Open it," Olivia gently demanded, putting both hands on his shoulders. Detective Mullens did as she had requested, tore the envelope and pulled out something thick in it. It was a drawing block folded in half. He opened it, and was immediately greeted by some colorful words declaring 'Happy Birthday!' Below those gigantic letters was him, drawn as a crude cartoon character, complete with an oversized trench coat, with Blossom on his right, Bubbles on his left and Buttercup next to Blossom. There was a building resembling the milk bar they had gone to a few weeks ago, which looked a little like a trailer, now that he thought about it.

Each of the Girls had likely contributed to the drawing block card, as the styles were radically different between the different elements of the pictures. There was a police-tank-thing at a corner done in thick and heavy-handed strokes of crayon, likely Buttercup's handiwork. Some scrawling on the bottom left could only belong to Blossom, who was faster than the others in learning how to write. Despite the age of the writer, the words were pretty little curves, if hard to read. 'Thank you, Mister Mullens! Maybe we should celebrate your birthday next year!' she wrote, except there were numerous spelling mistakes. Bubbles had likely done the rest of the card as the drawings were fair and balanced - he had always known her to be artistically-inclined. Those artistic types were always the sensitive ones.

"You told the Girls?" the detective said, incredulous. He was never the kind to celebrate birthdays. It reminded him that his glory days were long gone along with Townsville's golden age, that all the best attendees of his birthday parties were long dead.

"The mail took its time, but happy belated birthday, Dad," Olivia said lovingly before giving her father a peck on the cheek.

"Sweet of them," he said, before putting down the 'birthday card', his hands shaking a little. He picked up something else. A random photograph he happened to have his hand on. "But I've got to get back to work." Olivia knew what it meant. Although she had lived apart from him for a number of years before they reconciled and came together to do police work, she knew her Dad very well. She had idolized him before their falling out, and now she'd rekindled her admiration of him. Walking away, she left him alone, smiling.

Detective Mullens' hands had been shaking, but there were no tears. The well had dried out far too long ago when there were too many people to shed tears for. Had it been twenty years ago, however, he would have broken out the handkerchief.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1910.**

When Bubbles had obeyed and left the Girls' room, walking past her Mom, Selicia closed the door and audibly turned the lock. Selicia's mild chiding of Bubbles had brought back memories, things that Blossom would rather forget, but couldn't, owing to her superior memory and youthful sensitivity. She tried to stay calm and smiled at Mommy, but she couldn't manage the same kind of innocent smile she would put up in better circumstances.

"Good evening, Mom," she greeted Selicia properly, just like how she had taught her. She thought that it would placate her, perhaps make her happy. "What do you want to talk about?"

Selicia padded up to her wordlessly, flashing her own smile, though Blossom had difficulty reading it - the past month had been better between them. Blossom could even say that she had been at ease with her, once even falling asleep on her lap in a public library, which was as close as any child could get to a parent.

Picking up the hairbrush on her dressing table, Selicia knelt down and began brushing Blossom's hair. It all felt too familiar. Far too familiar. The enhanced little girl, for some reason, recalled Christmas Eve.

"Your hair's beautiful. You ought to take better care of it. Besides, that's how you win the hearts and minds of men," Selicia simply said, brushing aside Blossom's question while she was brushing her hair, separating the odd clump of hair finely. She had a hand on the red-haired girl's shoulder, and she could feel her shaking with barely-held-back violent impulses. "You look a little tense, Blossy dear. There's a time for that and now's not the time. Calm down."

Blossom tried her best to obey. She did the exact opposite, tensing up her muscles, but at least she'd stopped the trembling.

"Here, maybe this will help," Selicia whispered into Blossom's ear before giving her a peck on the cheek. It didn't help. Not one bit.

"W-what do you want to talk about, Mom?" Blossom asked again but got no reply. It was making her nervous as she anticipated a reprisal. While they were bathing, Buttercup had to be separated from the other Girls because of her wound, and Selicia had personally tended to her by giving her a careful sponge bath. Knowing Buttercup, she had likely talked about how she was hurt, and what had happened to allow it - and she was likely to put her own spin on it too. Blossom would be lucky if she wasn't accused of something.

Selicia continued working on Blossom's hair, adding ribbons to it, an expensive looking pink-and-shiny hairclip, and the usual red hair bow, but with a glossy texture. Blossom turned to Selicia, looking eye-to-eye with her, trying to read her, expecting an answer, but Selicia took her by the chin and turned her to face the mirror.

"Aren't you beautiful?" Selicia whispered into Blossom's ear again, pressing her face up next to her as she looked at the mirror with her. Blossom kept mum. "I'm asking you a question."

"Y-yes…" Blossom replied hesitantly, wondering about many things at once - if it was just her making things out to be worse than they were, or if Mom was playing one of her games again. Selicia pressed her lips closer to Blossom's ear.

"I know what you did, Blossom," Selicia whispered into her ear, surprisingly non-violent, but she could hear every little vibration. Mommy was holding back, and the quiver in her voice that came with repressed rage was too obvious.

"Wh-what do you mean, Mom?" Blossom replied, but it was as if Selicia didn't listen.

"You remember that time when we were playing with my stun rod? How much it hurt even at the lowest setting?" Selicia recalled a training session just a month ago when she was showing them how it feels like to get hit by a stun rod. As it was only a demonstration, she'd only used the lightest charge to shock the Girls. "Imagine it ten times worse."

"You let Buttercup get injured on your watch again, and I will hurt you badly. Do you understand, darling?" Just to drive home the point, Selicia had put her hand on Blossom's hair, and she had tightened her grip on it, enough to let the little girl feel it, and worry that she might pull hard on it. "I can't hear you, Blossom. I'm asking you a fucking question. It's only polite to answer."

"Yes, Mom, I understand," Blossom gasped as Selicia tightened her grip further… Before letting go, and gently and lovingly ran her fingers through her ample hair.

"You'll ruin this family if you keep going like this," Selicia accused, before sliding the back of her hand on Blossom's cheek. "I'm only looking out for you, Blossom darling. I'm your Mom after all, and you know what? I think we're both the same."

"We are?" Blossom said, puzzled. Despite knowing that they were mother and daughter, she thought that they were quite different, had always thought so. Selicia stroked her in the scalp as she continued looking at the both of them in the mirror.

"Of course. Why would you think otherwise?" Selicia said. "We're both beautiful, smart and independent. I've seen how you were when you were angry, Blossom. Remember what you did to your dear old Dad?"

It was another bad memory Blossom couldn't forget. It was the day she discovered her heat vision. She had gotten really mad over seeing a photo of Mojo Jojo, whom General Blackwater told her was responsible for nearly killing Bubbles. Her infrared beam came right out after that, the first time ever so she couldn't control it, and when she turned around to look at Daddy…

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean it… I'm so sorry…" Blossom apologized. It was painful, how the old wound was dug out. She could instantly remember the look on Dad's face when she accidentally burned him. She could even smell the fire burning away his lab coat and flesh, too. On some nights, she would still dream about it and then come to the same horrible thought: that she was incredibly lucky that her Dad was still with them.

"So you know how I can get when I'm angry, right?" Selicia said. Blossom nodded, afraid. "Don't try me."

Selicia finally stood up after that, walking away to the door. She unlocked and opened it, but before she left, added: "Put that brain of yours to work and add the finishing touches. You better be in the living room before I get there with Bubbles. Understand?"

"Yes, Mom."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1915.**

Blossom didn't add much to her hair. Selicia had left nothing for her to improve upon, and now she felt vaguely worthless because of it. With nothing left to do, she put on her high heels and headed down to the living room, where Buttercup was. Mom had done her up first, but her tomboy sister did not like it one bit. Buttercup had never worn ribbons or anything else on her head because she hated it, and now she had to bear with a green hairband the entire night!

But that wasn't all. Like her sisters, Buttercup was dressed in the same sequin dress accessorized with a black sash, except hers was green. Her make-up was green-themed, and her neck piece resembled a gorget, made of steel and pretty chains of various metals.

She was still pacing up and down the living room, still practicing how to walk in her high-heels - which, by most standards, weren't even that high. But despite having a week to prepare, she was still having trouble.

"Ugh, stupid shoes - why can't I just wear my boots?" she grumbled in frustration.

Blossom came up to her, walking in her heels quite ably. It helped that they could subtly boost herself with her floating ability whenever she felt she was losing her balance. It'd made things so much easier.

"You need to be more gentle, Buttercup," Blossom advised her. "Stop stomping around. We're not fighting anyone now."

"I wish we were," Buttercup said as she grudgingly tried to apply Blossom's advice - if it wasn't Mom who made her wear the high heels, she would have abandoned them straight away, maybe even chuck them into the dustbin next to the road. She began walking straight a little more gracefully, slowly. Distracted by this little triumph, she had forgotten herself momentarily, letting the silver lining in her head do the thinking - she'd wanted to thank Blossom, but when she turned around, she stumbled on the high heels and twisted an ankle. She floated immediately - it would have been disastrous had she been a normal little girl. It would have resulted in a sprained ankle.

But Blossom had noticed something else about her leg that concerned her. There was a holster just above it and a pistol. A very small one that was hidden just above the hem of her skirt, but she could see it when Buttercup flew up.

"You brought a gun!?" Blossom said in disbelief as Buttercup floated over to the couch to sit down. She straightened her sequined dress as she leaned back.

"Yeah, why?" Buttercup said casually. She then reached for the TV remote but winced as she felt her wound pressing against its bandage a little too hard. "I never got to use it when Mom gave it to me, and I thought I should bring it just in case… Don't talk like I've brought along my machinegun, Blossom. It's just a tiny backup pistol."

"We have our powers for backup, Buttercup!" Blossom lectured her wayward sister further. "and our powers are even better than any gun!"

"Yeah, whatever, sis," Buttercup simply brushed her off as she switched to the sports channel. Her eyes were instantly glued to the screen when it was a game of baseball airing on ESPN right then.

Blossom would have continued the argument had it not been for the sound of another pair of high heels coming down. She knew that Mommy wouldn't like it if she argued with Buttercup in front of her. Looking around at the stairs, she saw Selicia descending the stairs gracefully, despite the fact that her heels were taller and sharper than theirs. Bubbles walked beside her, holding hands with Mom, perhaps partly because she was afraid of goofing up and falling down the stairs. But it was unlikely, as Bubbles had learned fast how to walk in her high heel shoes.

Dad followed behind her, wearing an expensive-looking tuxedo, something he hadn't touched for many months since the last Organization function he attended as the Head of Research.

"You Girls ready?" Selicia asked Blossom and Buttercup. The tomboy switched off the television with the remote reluctantly - she had been nursing an interest in baseball over the month, but Mommy came first, as always.

"Yes…" Blossom said obediently, but she wasn't ready at all. Quite the opposite - she was nervous. She had never attended a party of the scale Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks had described - with hundreds of guests, some of whom were so important and affluent that Townsville would struggle to run without them - and she had to attend in the capacity of a leader. Everyone knew the 'important' things about her, and her position in the trio. In fact, everyone knew more about her than she herself - that she 'worked' for the USDO, and that she was somehow created by the USDO. No one knew exactly how, of course. Some believed that she was an ordinary girl endowed with great power through some scientific procedure, while others rightly believed that she was grown in a lab, though they had no way to confirm their suspicions. Then there were others who didn't care.

Buttercup got off her couch and tried walking in her heels again, making headway towards Mom, who beamed at how she had handled herself confidently. "Very good, Buttercup. I knew you can do it," Selicia praised.

"Why do I have to go there anyway? I'd rather stay at home and watch baseball," Buttercup whined.

"Because there's really good food there?" Selicia said playfully. "I mean, I'm not stopping you from staying. You just have to cook for yourself…"

"I guess I'll go…" Buttercup muttered and made her way towards the door, still trying to impress by doing it while walking on her high heels. She needed as many points with her Mom and Dad as she could get, as she still perceived herself to be on the losing end. She winced when she accidentally rubbed at her wound with her elbow. It made Selicia concerned.

"You sure, honey?" she asked. "If you're not up to it, you shouldn't push it." she gave Blossom a brief death glare as she said this - the pink-eyed one, after all, was responsible for Buttercup's injury, at least from her perspective.

"I'm fine, Mom. I'll go," Buttercup pressed on, now determined to show her parents that she was better than either of her sisters.

The professor laughed at this display. "I just hope the three of you remember why you're going - and it's not just because of the food or the fun," he said.

"Is it because Elodie's our friend?" Bubbles ventured to answer, brightening up at the mere thought of one of her closest friends – and Elodie was a special one, different from Blake and Mullens because she looked similar to them as a child. They were both physically 5-year-olds. They were both little girls, and they were both many of the same things. The professor took her by the other hand as they made their way to the door, such that she was between Mom and Dad.

"Well, Elodie and the rest of Townsville - most of it, anyway," the professor corrected. "Friendship isn't just something you gain - it's also something you maintain."

"Well said," Selicia praised her 'husband' as she took off the Girls' coats from the coat stand beside the door. Green for Buttercup, blue for Bubbles and pink for Blossom.


	10. Chapter 8: Masks

A/N: I apologize for the delay in the update. I kinda passed out while editing last night and couldn't finish it in time for release. Anyway, what was originally a gigantic chapter had to be split up, especially after editing when holes had to be filled in the narrative, further increasing the length.

**Chapter 8: Masks**

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1941.**

While transiting on the way to the Morbucks Family Mansion, where the Morbucks' masquerade ball was held, Professor Utonium didn't even need to drive. In an attempt to boost their public image, the USDO had requisitioned a limousine for the Girls and their handlers, protected front and back by a motorcade of humvees and even a few APCs. When they were on the way there, they were even escorted by a couple of USDO helicopters.

While they were walking towards their limousine through their lawn, the Girls had seen the men who were in those vehicles. They were all in dress uniforms like the one Mommy wore when she first met them, except with pants and for men. They were grey, and many of them had medals and pins and highly visible chevrons and marks of distinctions on them. However, since they weren't just for show, they were also armed with mainly XM4s and had belts that served to hold additional magazines.

The Girls were only thinking one thing when they saw the USDO soldiers though - they were hoping that Mister Blake and his squad of friends would be among them, only to be sorely disappointed. Where could he be all this time? It had been weeks since they last saw him. Blossom and Bubbles were missing him that it almost hurt, that it almost felt like a betrayal when he had never visited. Buttercup was feeling it too - she thought that he was a cool dude, and wanted to see more of him.

When the Girls had finally reached the Morbucks Mansion, they were wowed by its size. It wasn't the first time they had seen it, but the novelty had never worn off. The mansion was five floors high, with innumerable windows hinting at innumerable rooms. The porch alone was almost as big as their house.

The Princess herself, along with her father, Mister Morbucks, was personally there to receive the Girls in person. Having met Elodie a few times over January, they knew this to be a great honor, as any 'lesser' guests would have been received by their servants instead. Moreover, the Princess was in no shape herself to do so - that she would come out of her massive home especially to take them in meant that they were incredibly special, as it had likely taken the Princess great pains to do so, considering her condition.

The Morbucks stood in front of their porch, smiling. While Mister Morbucks had opted to be less flashy in his black tuxedo, the Princess was regal. Imperial. Her dress looked like something out of a fairy tale, golden and decorated with a purple sash around her waist. She wore purple silk gloves that reached up to her upper arms to match. The one thing that was familiar was her cancer wig, which came in the usual hairstyle: two messy buns, except this time, they were tied with purple ribbons.

When the Girls got out of their limousine, they smiled at the Princess, Bubbles, especially, who shared an especially close bond to the rich little girl as they had survived an ordeal together. Bubbles and the Princess were positively squeeing when they saw each other. While the Princess gingerly came forward, Bubbles was almost running up to her, and the two embraced warmly. When they were done, which took some time, the Princess then hugged Blossom as well, then moved on to Buttercup, who could only just barely tolerate the gesture.

Meanwhile, Professor Utonium and Selicia met Mister Morbucks. The men shook hands, while Mister Morbucks took Selicia by the hand like a gentleman and kissed it. The theme of the day had allowed it. They hadn't met much, and the only time they had seen each other was in a pre-arranged meeting, when the billionaire desired to meet the 'parents' of the children who had saved his most precious thing in the world - the only thing that money couldn't buy (in his opinion) - his daughter, Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks.

"Dad, can I take them to the dressing room myself?" the Princess asked.

"You sure, precious?" Daddy Morbucks asked, concern just oozing out of his voice. "You haven't been well at all, and it's cold out here…"

"I think the night air is soothing, Dad. Besides, Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup are here with me - I'm always safe with them." the Princess replied.

"Alright, jewel," Mister Morbucks said, before coming up to the Girls and addressing them: "Take good care of my daughter, will the three of you?" He gave each of them quick pats on the head before turning away. In the billionaire's mind, it was a good deal, having what were literally three of the nicest bio-engineered killing machines on Earth on his side and protecting his daughter.

As the Princess showed the Girls a side path leading around the side of the mansion, her father beckoned for Professor Utonium and Selicia to follow him through the grand entrance. Curious guests standing on the porch watched them with intense curiosity and scrutiny, wondering what these newcomers in Townsville had to offer.

The Princess took Bubbles' hand as they walked, with Blossom and Buttercup coming up beside them. The path skirting around the mansion was dark, around the corners - whatever light there was had come from antiquated-looking electric lamps along the path. Blossom and Buttercup would occasionally get a fit of paranoia and light up their eyes to search the sides of the path - and the bushes and trees and the occasional security guard that lined the way forward like ceremonial guards. This was despite the fact that not far behind, a whole squad of USDO security officers was following, not just to stay in range in case of an attack but also to get into their final guard positions.

"Why are we walking out here, Elodie?" Bubbles asked, not even wary in the slightest - she had complete trust in the Princess. Their shared experience in that dark hole they nearly died in had cemented their friendship - and the few times she was able to visit her had completed it. "Shouldn't we go to the party?"

"But we're going to surprise the guests," Elodie Morbucks explained. "Besides, we still have masks to put on, and you'll really like the ones I selected-" Before she could finish, she started coughing, and what seemed like regular coughing became a coughing fit. They had to stop for a while.

"Are you okay, Princess?" Blossom asked, concerned. The Princess had to cough for a while, still, and the only other thing she could do was to pull out a red silk handkerchief to cover her mouth when the hacking cough wouldn't stop. Bubbles patted her on the back, hoping that it would help.

"You know, we could fly you to the dressing room or whatever it is - it's faster anyway," Buttercup offered. She was getting bored with walking in a cold, dark and unexciting place at what amounted to a snail's pace. She'd even had an image of Princess in her head as a snail, royalty of the gastropod society.

"No- It's fine," the Princess was finally able to say something. Straightening up, she adjusted her dress to make sure she looked perfect, pre-coughing-fit. "I like spending this quiet moment with the three of you. If you don't mind…"

"I don't mind," Bubbles said. "It's nice, in a way."

They continued walking, but they didn't get very far before the Princess' knees buckled from exhaustion. Walking across her own mansion had been challenging enough with her disease - to go around it straight after that was really pushing it.

"I thought I was getting better…" the Princess mumbled, ashamed of falling in front of her guests. "I'm sorry. I'm a terrible host."

"How about I carry you?" Bubbles offered, putting out a hand. Princess smiled at her and took it. With a heave, the sweetest of The Three was able to pull her up effortlessly and take her off her feet without even feeling it - the Princess was practically weightless to her. Grateful, the Princess put her arms around Bubbles' neck.

"Just like before, huh?" she said.

"Just like before," Bubbles nodded. They smiled at each other. It had been more than a month since Bubbles had rescued Princess from Mojo Jojo and what seemed like certain death, but their camaraderie was timeless, the natural friendship between them struck up quickly. Bubbles and the Princess had a connection - they could relate with one another. They were both fearful, vulnerable and fragile in their own ways, even if the state of their health were like night and day, sunset and sunrise.

"I wish I could be like the three of you…" the Princess said, somewhat delirious still from her coughing fit. "I hate myself sometimes."

"But you're really sweet and nice and… great, Elodie," Bubbles said immediately, summoning everything she could from her vocabulary. They were close friends, and she wanted to make sure the Princess was comfortable, although unknown to the blonde little girl, she was really convincing herself of the same thing just as much - that she shouldn't hate herself for who she was, for being the softest, shyest and most fearful of her sisters. Everyone had said as much that it wasn't wrong for her to be this way, right? Well, everyone except for General Blackwater, and more than half the USDO and police force.

"Yeah. And you're really kind and generous too," Blossom added. She'd seen the Princess on the newspaper several times over the past month, giving away presents and visiting hospital patients just because. Being sick and home-schooled and lacking everyday companions were routinely giving her cabin fever, and it was one way for her to leave her home and do some good at the same time. "In a way, we're trying to be like you when we went to the soup kitchen, or help with building a big house for the poor…"

"And your food and toys were great," Buttercup chipped in. "That night when we had a sleepover here? Your bedroom and washroom's awesome!"

Eventually, they came by the side door on the eastern wing of the mansion. It was still far grander than the Girls' front door. Climbing the stairs leading up to it, Bubbles let Princess down, who proceeded to slam the door-knocker thrice. The door was opened from the inside. A maid stood beside it, holding the door open.

"Evening Princess. Evening, Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup," the maid greeted the Girls formally. It wasn't the first time they'd met. The Girls had seen her before. Annie was her name, the very same maid who'd brought them their bathrobes and pajamas during their sleepover.

"Evening, Miss Annie," the Girls greeted in unison, their Sister Sense kicking in again when their mood was in sync. Annie, being the servant assigned to the Princess and her enhanced guests, had spent the most time with the Girls. However, even she could feel the chills running down her spine when she saw The Three again. Friendly though they were, the fact that any single one of them could rip a man in half with ease was unnerving enough – then there was the look of their eyes in the dark just before they came through the threshold of the side door and into the light, which reminded Annie of predatory animals in the dark, or even creatures. Monsters. Of course, the maid kept her feelings and thoughts hidden, and simply stood at attention like a royal guard.

"Will they need assistance in preparing for the ball, Princess?" the maid asked courteously.

"No, not this time," the Princess brushed her off. They continued walking down the corridor, before ascending a flight of stairs.

"Isn't that a little… rude?" Blossom said to the Princess. It wasn't the first time she had noticed the Princess doing this to Annie.

"She's cold in the first place, didn't you see how she was like the first day you met her?" the Princess replied, before coughing a little. The stairs were treacherous to her, but thankfully she need only climb a single floor. Blossom could not argue. The Princess was right. Annie was a no-nonsense domestic worker, seemingly nothing more.

"I don't know… I would have kept trying," Blossom said.

"I've tried for weeks when she came to my home last year," the Princess said. "I told my Dad I wanted her gone, but he wouldn't listen. I miss my previous personal maid."

"That must be hard. I can't imagine losing a friend like that," Bubbles said. The previous maid had been dismissed over reasons the Princess wasn't aware of. Her father wouldn't tell her.

They were soon in the dressing room before they knew it. Time seemed to pass faster whenever they weren't in a more surreal location, such as the dark, snowy path they were on.

The dressing room the Girls found themselves in was unfamiliar to them. The relatively humble size, however, suggested that it was once meant for the in-house workers. The modest furnishing, which was still generous by middle-class standards, said as much.

The Princess padded up to a wall, where three masks were hung as if on display in a theatrical production. The Princess had arranged for the masks to be introduced that way – and the servants had carried out her request without question. Everything had to be perfect – there wasn't anything Elodie wouldn't do for her new friends. While it was good that they were Townsville's newest and strangest and most effective law enforcers, what was most important was that they seemed genuine. She couldn't remember the last time the people she called her friends were sincere about their friendship. The previous group had even abandoned her to her fate when she couldn't run as fast as them, owing to her cancer treatment and the fact that she had only just gone into remission. Had Bubbles not found her, she would have either been killed or held for ransom and probably mistreated while the money took its time to reach her kidnappers.

The Girls gasped when they saw the masks.

"They're beautiful!" Bubbles exclaimed. It didn't even matter which belonged to her. They were all stunning works of art. Blossom was equally taken by them. Even Buttercup had her interest piqued.

Reaching for a shiny silver-blue mask with what looked like tentacles that would cover the cheeks, Princess handed it over to Bubbles with both her hands courteously, beaming toothily at her best friend. Bubbles took it gladly, before holding it up in front of her to inspect it, and found that she liked it, unwise to the fact that it looked like the face of some elder god from the Cthulu Mythos.

"You really like your Octi doll, Bubbles, so I thought I should give you a mask that looks like it," the Princess said thoughtfully. "It's a good name, Octi. I couldn't have thought of it myself."

"It's really nice, Elodie," Bubbles thanked the Princess before putting it on and showing her mask to her sisters, laughing as she imitated the aquatic movement of an octopus whilst floating in mid-air. "I'm Octi! Blub blub blub!"

The Girls, including Princess, laughed. When they were done, Princess returned to her wall and picked the next mask off it. Like Bubbles' mask, the next one was shiny. Unlike Bubbles' mask, it had an avian theme. The feathers, which were as hefty as Blossom's hair such that it covered the entire forehead and more, were of a glossy light pink hue, while the beak was black in color, made where the nose was.

"You're brave like an eagle, Blossom, and Daddy said that the eagle is majestic and 'symbolizes leadership' too, so I thought it fits you," the Princess presented the mask, then handed it to Blossom, who took it gladly. It was even better than how she envisioned her mask to be. Blossom put it on immediately.

"What do you think?" the leader of The Three said from under the mask. Her glowing pink eyes shone through, completing the visage of the mask with her fierce, piercing gaze.

"It's actually awesome," Buttercup admitted excitedly - she didn't think that the masquerade ball would even be remotely fun, and it hadn't even started yet. Blossom flew next to a mirror to look at herself and liked what she saw. She raised her arms as if they were the wings of an eagle, then laughed along with the rest of them, who saw it too.

The Princess didn't wait this time and proceeded to unhook the last mask on the wall. This one was much more mysterious. It was mostly black with green highlights that were ornately designed and rich with pretty curves. The entire forehead was covered, with cat ears on top. There were whiskers left and right of the nose, though it wouldn't cover the face anywhere below the nose. She handed it to Buttercup.

"A cat?" Buttercup guessed, surprised as to why she chose the cat as her animal theme.

"Yeah, you kept mumbling about some cat in your sleep, Buttercup," the Princess explained, and when she saw that Buttercup was taken aback, quickly continued: "I'm sorry I overheard. I couldn't sleep that night."

"I didn't know you like cats, Buttercup," Blossom said. Bubbles wanted to say something too but kept quiet as she was unsure if Buttercup would snap at her or smile at her.

"Yeah… I guess I do…" Buttercup lied. Well, it was more of a half-lie. There was one cat she liked - the one that could talk, and talked it did… with her. It had been appearing more and more often in her sleep, just watching, but running away the moment she tried to come close. She had tried digging up the dead cat in the lawn of The House where she buried it with snow; she'd tried to wake it up, but it wouldn't respond to her any longer. It was deeply upsetting, for it was one of the few things in the world that understood her need for bloodshed and violence.

"What about your mask, Elodie?" Bubbles asked, realizing that there were only three masks on the wall, and a fourth was nowhere in sight - not on the dresser, not next to the mirror or on any tables in the room. "Aren't you wearing one?"

"No…," the Princess said, before falling morose once more. "The truth is, I've been wearing a mask for my entire life." There was some pride in her, at least, for being able to understand metaphors at such an early age, but it couldn't outshine what she had been feeling her entire life. She stood in front of a standing mirror, looking sadly at herself. "So many masks at once. A girl like me can't say or do certain things in front of people. I had to act all the time. And this face… Every time I look in front of a mirror, I remember that it was different. My face used to have color - I would joke that I wouldn't need powder for my face but... It was all an act so people would like me… I… remember I used to have real hair - my wig is just fake, and I feel it all the time. I don't want a third mask."

Bubbles took her hand when she sensed the Princess' need for encouragement.

"But I have the three of you now," the Princess brightened up a little, squeezing Bubbles' hand. "The three of you can do whatever I can't and… I guess that makes me happy."

"Thanks, Elodie," Blossom said, coming up to her, hugging the Princess from behind even as she continued staring at the mirror, wishing as a child only could, that some fairy godmother would just materialize out of nowhere and give her back everything she had lost. But as a child who had suffered the cruel irony of having everything material but having nothing that really mattered, she couldn't seriously believe in such a fairy tale. At least, until three angels had entered her life. Blossom had an idea. "It wouldn't be much, but if your father would let us, we could take you out flying around Townsville one day."

"I would like that very much," the Princess said, a hard-won smile spreading across her face once more - her face, which had been a battlefield between her spirit and her disease for most of her memory.


	11. Chapter 9: The Masquerade

**Chapter 9: The Masquerade**

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**3 FEB 1989 (Friday). 1955.**

The masquerade was held in a grand hall. Massive long tables were arranged on two sides of the hall to hold an equally massive and lavish number of buffet selection. The number of guests was in the hundreds - some sat and chat behind round tables, while others stood and held stately conversations. All of them wore intricately complex masks. This time around, the USDO had taken responsibility for security and had posted guards even within the hall. Even the guards weren't spared from the dress code, and they had been issued bulletproof masks to maintain it. A live orchestra - a small group of 'just' dozens - was playing classical music composed by geniuses of ages past on a stage.

The hall was as vertical as it was horizontal - there was a flight of stairs on either side of the hall, made of expensive Mahogany, leading up to a balcony area overlooking the hall, where yet more guests were hosted. Some of them stood at the banisters, looking down on the rest. It was on the second floor where Professor Utonium and Selicia found themselves at. The professor had selected a simple silver-and-white owl mask that spared his forehead and lower face, while Selicia had picked a most alluring mask modeled after the Greek Medusa, plated with bronze.

The professor was becoming increasingly worried about the Girls. He could never stop being worried for them - even though it wasn't the first time he had seen them off to the Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks. But he didn't have to worry for long, for soon, the lights dimmed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the time has come…" a disembodied and mysterious voice of the emcee boomed over the speakers. The orchestra stopped reciting their Mozart. "Introducing Townsville's rising heroines - the city's newest defenders - the very girls who saved the Morbucks and dozens of other important names…"

The main doors leading into the hall opened. A spotlight casting light that was similar to the heart-light Detective Mullens and Olivia had devised was focused on the entrance. Everyone could already see them, but since it was dark, their eyes were the first thing everyone noticed, provoking gasps and shouts of surprise and fear from those who weren't wise to the main attraction of the party. A pair of glowing pink eyes, blue eyes, and green eyes floated in the dark.

The Girls walked out of the doors and into the spotlight, revealing themselves in their fullest glory, with Princess standing between the two of them - Bubbles and Blossom, and she was holding Bubbles' hand as a way to calm the timid one down.

"Some call them The Three - others call them the Angels of Justice - Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks is proud to call them friends - Introducing… Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup!" the emcee went on, then fell silent. There was supposed to be a standing ovation. Buttercup crossed her arms - she wondered what the big deal was all about, and she could only think of eating at this point, as it was past dinnertime and her stomach was rumbling.

It started slowly at first. Mister Morbucks, who was recognizable despite the golden mask he was wearing, began clapping. A few people followed, and soon, like wildfire, it'd spread to everyone else. Slow to come, the whole hall eventually erupted in applause. Blossom found it somewhat encouraging; she smiled. Bubbles actually found it intimidating. Buttercup raised an eyebrow at this.

"Wave at them, Girls, and smile," Elodie suggested to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. They did just that with varying degrees of willingness and success, following the Princess' lead as she waved at the crowd first. The applause grew louder. "See? They like the three of you."

"Showing the grace and beauty of angels, our dearest Princess, and her new friends will lead us off in a dance…" the emcee continued. Buttercup's jaw dropped and she froze up when she heard the word. Blossom and Bubbles' reaction wasn't any less dramatic. While Blossom and Bubbles liked the idea of dancing from what they had heard about it from the stories both Dad and Mom had read or recounted to them, and from what they had seen on the television, they knew from what the professor said about the amount of practice it would take that they weren't ready - in fact, they were caught completely by surprise and hadn't even practiced for a single second!

"D-d-dance? But-" Buttercup uttered in disbelief at what she had gotten herself into. Now, she was starting to believe that she should have stayed in bed, or the couch, watching ESPN. She hated the idea of dancing - the only kind of dance she'd ever like were the dance steps of war, to be executed in battle while music composed by death and destruction was played.

"I c-can't…" Bubbles stammered, her face flushed red despite her makeup.

"But how?" Blossom questioned, beginning to feel awkwardness and shame unlike what she had felt before. The Girls could only be thankful that they were wearing masks.

"Don't worry, Girls," the Princess said, far too serenely calm that it made all three of her friends felt worse. Where she was sickly and unsuited to the outside world, she was a born natural when it came to the social and intellectual sphere – so natural that it was heartbreaking for everyone concerned that she was like a candle burning twice as bright… "I'll never leave my best friends hanging."

Taking Bubbles and Blossom by the hands, she led them to the center of the hall. Buttercup, having no choice as she knew enough about social behavior not to turn tail and run, followed.

They weren't alone. Two boys came up and met them in the center of the hall. The party had gone silent as if expecting something religiously miraculous to happen.

The boys were older than they were, about twice the Girls' physical age. One of them wore a matching bird mask, though it was smaller than Blossom's; he had brown hair. The other had a mask with a similar feline motif to Buttercup's, though, again, it was smaller – his hair was straw yellow. The Girls did not know it, but the Princess had made deliberate choices when it came to the boys and their masks. The boys' masks were smaller to accentuate the Girls', therefore emphasizing their importance and making them more noticeable – not that the Girls needed that kind of help. The boys involved had danced for years, having come from equally affluent families like hers, and far more strict when it came to social conduct.

"May I take your hand?" Bird Mask Boy stuck out his hand for Blossom to take, smiling. Blossom found herself blushing a little in a way she didn't understand. "I've done this before. You're in safe hands."

With a shy smile, Blossom took his hand and stepped up. The boy wasn't much older than she was, and yet his recent prepubescent growth spurt meant that her head couldn't even reach his neck. He guided her other hand to his shoulder before carrying her off into a waltz. On cue, the orchestra began playing a relatively simple and slow-paced classical waltz for the children to dance to.

In sequence, Cat Mask Boy did the same with Buttercup. The tomboy was reluctant of course, but when she spotted Daddy looking at her – recognizing him easily even with his white-silver owl mask – she took the offer, afraid that she would disappoint him and lose out to Blossom. The boy pulled her up into a loose embrace and followed the bird pair. "Oh, brother," Buttercup groaned at her predicament.

"Don't panic," Cat Mask Boy whispered to Buttercup, who took offense to his advice. "Don't look at them. Look at me." But she took them regardless, stubborn as she was. The boy himself found it difficult to make eye contact with Buttercup because of her intimidating, glaring and glowing transhuman eyes but persevered regardless, and Buttercup found it surprisingly difficult to make eye contact with him for reasons beyond her.

"P-princess… W-who am I dancing with?" Bubbles stuttered, realizing that they were one boy short. All sorts of depressing scenarios started popping up in her head – that she had been pranked, or that there was a mistake and she would have to depart shamefully because of it. Either way, there was likely a ditch for her to bury herself in forever.

The Princess walked around and stood before her. She extended a gloved hand.

"You're dancing with me, Bubbles," the Princess revealed with her pearly white teeth showing in an expectant smile. "Please?"

Bubbles did not know what to make of it. Daddy had said that men and women would dance in a ball like this – he never said anything about children dancing, or two girls dancing together. Or she and her sisters, for that matter. But fearing rejection and awkwardness, she took the Princess's hand. The Princess guided her towards her, putting Bubbles' hand on her neck before putting her own purple-covered hand on Bubbles' waist. Bubbles blushed behind her mask – she had never done anything like this before, much less in front of a huge crowd.

"I've been practicing for weeks," the Princess reassured Bubbles, who nonetheless looked incredibly awkward and unsure of herself and the circumstances she'd been put in. "We should be fine. Just follow my steps, Bubbles."

"But why? Why me and not a boy?" Bubbles asked, trying hard not to burst into tears because of the surreal nature of the ball – she wasn't sad, just weirded out.

"I just want to dance with the girl who saved my life, that's all," the Princess admitted. "It's something I want to do before I…" a tear broke out of her left eye. She let it slide down her cheek, hoping that it would go unnoticed. But Bubbles' vision was too excellent, and she decided not to ask any more questions to avoid ruining the day.

Surprisingly, it didn't end in a complete disaster, considering that the senior dancer had only a few weeks of training experience and the junior, none. Some among the crowd took it as a good sign. Some had to hide their ire at seeing the irregularity that was two little girls dancing together. Others saw it as a living work of art.

As Princess was her friend, Bubbles decided to let it go, and allow herself and her friend to enjoy the moment.

"I'm sorry if you wanted to dance with a boy," the Princess apologized. "I just thought you'd want this too. I've been selfish."

"No, it's fine," Bubbles said as they continued waltzing their way slowly around the hall, following behind Buttercup, who kept stepping on her dance partner's shoes but was otherwise surprisingly lithe and graceful in mimicking her partner's steps. Had it been up to her, she wouldn't have stepped onto the dance floor at all, considering that she was completely unprepared. "I was just surprised. And scared."

"So was I when we were in that hole. Thanks for saving my life, Bubbles," the Princess said, still struggling to keep a lid on her emotions – being five meant nothing to her mental age, as she had already struggled more than some adults in her short time on Earth. "Thanks for everything. I've never had a friend as good as you."

"Aw shucks, don't mention it," Bubbles said, feeling flushed by the Princess' compliments. However, she could easily feel – and she knew – that all was not right with the Princess despite everything, and she wanted to make it all better for her special friend. "We're best friends forever, Elodie. I'll be there for you forever and you won't have to be sad again."

As the waltz continued, Blossom and Bubbles were beginning to get into the flow of it and enjoy themselves. Buttercup, however, was Buttercup, and she had ensured that even her 'lucky' dance partner, was becoming impatient with her stepping on his shoes. Elodie, his cousin, had spoken volumes of Buttercup – that she was incredibly cool and tough, and someone that everyone must get to know because of how she had saved the City of Townsville – blah, blah, blah – Elodie could get really animated when she was excited, which was a rare thing considering her failing health. Elodie had failed to mention how poorly raised Buttercup was!

Bird Mask Boy, however, was having the time of his life. Blossom was a quick study, and she had taken his advice to the letter, swaying and moving in sync with him. It was little wonder, considering what Elodie, his poor cancer-stricken cousin, had said about her. Something about being able to fly and dance in the air like a bird, in addition to the whole thing about her being the protector of Townsville – despite seeing Blossom on the news, he still find it hard to believe as he wasn't a Townsville local and hadn't seen it all in action first-hand, nor felt the effects it had on society at large. Now he knew - now, he was wiser.

"Thanks for dancing with me," Blossom said awkwardly and almost fearfully as they continued to spin gracefully on the dance floor, all the while watched by hundreds of pairs of eyes. "I was really scared in the beginning."

"That's how it's like the first time I danced, too," Bird Mask Boy said. "But you're jesting, right? I saw you on CNN once. You were so confident and brave when you fought those bank robbers, and that was after you got your bottom kicked in Morbucks' laboratory, from what I heard."

"Oh…" Blossom fell silent – Bird Mask Boy had managed to dig up some bad memories from that day, even if things did turn around that day when she had to face Ace and his Gangreen Gang.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude," the boy apologized formally, with his dignity still secure. "I thought it was a glorious day when you saved my uncle's lab and his friends."

"Uncle?" Blossom said, confused. She'd heard that word before from Daddy, but he'd refused to give her anything beyond what it meant. "So your mom is Mister Morbucks' sister?"

"I'm his nephew, yes," Bird Mask Boy said even as they danced away, their motions becoming second nature "How about we introduce ourselves properly? I'm Anthony Charles Morton, son of Earl Morton and Antoinette Morton. Your turn."

"Blossom Utonium… Urm… Daughter of…" Blossom struggled with her introduction. She had never found the need for such formalities. In fact, she'd realized that she had hardly ever referred to Daddy and Mommy by their names, and they were surprisingly hard to recall. Oh, the shame of it all! "I'm sorry…"

"It's fine. It happens when you're new to the scene," Bird Mask Boy said. Blossom had never felt so ashamed in her entire life before, and so many times about so many things within such a short span of time. She couldn't even meet her dance mate's eyes any longer, and so she looked to the side, only to see a most suspicious thing in the background. Across the sea of spectators, there were some men and women moving forward, discreetly pushing through the shoulders in front of them. As they were masked, she couldn't tell who they were or even if they had the looks of criminals or not.

"-especially when you've never been to a party like this-"

That was when she was forced to spin around because of the waltz, and by the time she could see the same area, those suspicious guests were closer. Quickly focusing her eyesight, she zoomed through the many stationary guests to look under the mask of one of the suspicious guests with her x-ray vision, only to find a face that looked neither familiar nor threatening. Looking down, however…

She saw that one of them had stuck a hand in his jacket, his fingers wrapped around the handle of a pistol.

"-and of course – are you listening?"

They made another turn on the waltz. Anxiety struck Blossom when she realized that something dangerous was about to happen. By the time she was able to see the suspicious guests again, they had managed to push through to the front.

The man with his hand in his jacket withdrew it, and out came a pistol. He pointed it at Blossom.

"Look out!" Blossom screamed before pushing Anthony Charles Morton to the ground and kicking off to a high floating position. The masked man fired his pistol, but Blossom could not feel the shot - he must have missed. The guests of the entire hall were sent scrambling - some hiding at the edge of the hall or behind furniture and the grand stairs, while others got down where they were.

Blossom returned fire with her twin thermal beam, hitting the man and sending him sprawling to the ground. Her hawk mask was burned as a result. The fire was spreading across her face, but it could not hurt her. Neither was she distracted by it, especially when her friends were in danger.

"Bubbles, Buttercup!" Blossom issued the call to arms for her sisters urgently, but they were already in action. Buttercup had forced her dance mate to the ground perhaps a little too hard, while Bubbles was shielding the Princess by stepping in front of her with her arms out. "Go left, right! Now!" It was her primary tactic - the three-point attack, which was incredibly simple and predictable, but with all her successes, there was no need to innovate.

There were three other masked assassins who had pushed through. Bubbles flew towards a lady in an elegant red gown who had pulled a hidden pistol out from her handbag. She couldn't even squeeze the trigger when she pointed it at Bubbles. Being just as nonviolent as Blossom, she tackled the woman to the ground, before pinning her arm to the back with the lady shouting in pain and abject fear, prying her pistol from her hand easily. Buttercup, on the other hand, had pulled her concealed pistol out from her ankle holster and pointed it at her target, who seemed to have frozen up while lifting his revolver. She would have shot the gutless, but thick-framed gray-masked assassin had Blossom not flown up to her and pushed the gun up. She ended up discharging a round into the ceiling.

"No killing, Buttercup!" Blossom chided her sister.

"I wasn't going to!" Buttercup shouted her lie before dislodging herself from Blossom's grip and charging at the huge tuxedo-wearing assassin. She winded up a punch and sent him flying yards down the hall.

The last assassin, another lady who was in a hefty Victorian-era gown, had pulled an old revolver in one hand and a fan in the other. Blossom saw her too late, and she fired the old revolver at them… Only for none of them to feel the sting of a bullet. Blossom found it odd but had no time to dawdle. She zipped towards the assassin, who just stood there, unsure of herself, before giving the back of her knee a hooking kick. When she fell to the floor, Blossom struck her in the base of her skull effortlessly to knock her out.

The Girls looked around. There were no more attackers. It felt easy. Far too easy. Perhaps deceptively too easy. Coming back together, they surveyed the hall for any other assassins, but for the life of them, they couldn't find any, nor detect other surprises. The party guests were behaving strangely in that they hadn't panicked nor ran out of the mansion as normal civilians should have - even the guards were sluggish in their duty to arrest the assassins. Professor Utonium and Selicia were on the way down from the second-floor balcony.

The huge tuxedo-wearing assassin sat up, before pulling his gray mask off. The Girls gasped.

It was Mister Morbucks. He'd swapped his golden mask for a gray mask.

"Ladies and gentleman, give it up for Townsville's protectors - our defenders - the Angels of Justice - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup!" the disembodied voice of the emcee boomed through the speaker once more. The Girls, confused, drifted downwards to the floor as they tried to process what was going on. They did not even know that they had touched down on the floor.

Mister Morbucks began clapping even as he winced at the bruise on his jaw where Buttercup had given him a punch. A round of applause slowly started, but when it got going, it became louder than before, when they were just dancing.

"Girls! Girls!" Professor Utonium shouted as he was running up to them. "Are you alright?"

"Buttercup!" Selicia followed behind the professor. As soon as she had reached Buttercup, she began checking her for gunshot wounds. The professor did the same with Blossom and Bubbles. In the meantime, the Princess had wanted to speak to Bubbles, but decided that it was wiser to let her best friend's family have their moment first.

Mister Morbucks was helped to his feet by some of his guests, after which he simply adjusted his tuxedo before turning around and leaving, his job in the masquerade, more dangerous than he had anticipated, was complete.

"What's going on, Dad?" Blossom asked, still confused. "I don't understand!"

"Yeah! There were no bullets when they shot at us! What gives?" Buttercup added. Her sisters thought her observation to be on point.

"Dad…" Bubbles was upset again - she had envisioned the ball to be a haven free from guns and bullets and fighting - but she was wrong once again. Why couldn't she have her peace? The professor got down on a knee to give her a reassuring hug. The Princess could only look on, herself upset that Bubbles had been made sad once more. She didn't expect her to become upset - it was all supposed to be for the Girls' benefit, her father had said. The Princess couldn't help but feel guilty about the emotional damage she had unwittingly done to her friends.

"I think I know what's going on," the professor said angrily as he stood up once more. "Morbucks!" For a brief moment when he turned around to leave the hall, he caught sight of Princess. At that moment when their eyes met, he couldn't help but accuse her wordlessly with his condescending gaze, of being a party to the staged attack. The glare from Mister Utonium was enough to cause the Princess to break into tears. But the Girls' father knew who the real conspirator was. "Selicia, watch the Girls!"

"What're you doing!?" Selicia asked as she scooped Buttercup up.

"I'm going to have a little talk with our host!" the professor growled as he broke into a jog, chasing after Mister Morbucks. What made him even madder was the fact that the USDO was also party to this - it was all but certain, judging by the fact that they had allowed this to happen. There were metal detectors up front and guards on every entrance into the mansion. The guards in the hall itself were even acting as they were too slow to the draw. Then, there were the guests - he knew from their relatively tame reaction that they, too, knew about this. 'Sickening voyeurs!' he screamed inside. They had even admitted their guilt without knowing it, too, by going back to what they were doing before the staged attack. He felt like he could wring some of them by the neck had the Girls not been around. It was staged - all of it. One huge conspiracy, all to watch the Girls perform like a bunch of zoo animals! Or- or- Circus animals! Circus freaks! The professor had never felt such rage ever since he was pursuing Mojo Jojo.

Professor Utonium barged out of the hall and flew down the corridor towards the faint sound of footsteps echoing in the distance and the far off figure of Mister Morbucks.

"Come back here!" he screamed in rage just as Mister Morbucks had rounded the corner. "How dare you abuse my Girls!" And when he followed, he was met with two private security officers pointing their pistols at him. Mister Morbucks turned around, still nursing the bruise on his jaw.

"You fat bastard!" the professor continued insulting the billionaire. "You'll choke on your meal for that!"

"Calm yourself, Mister Utonium," Morbucks said as he leaned against the wall of the corridor, besides some expensive painting. His legs were still shaking from what Buttercup had nearly done to him. "There was no harm done. The bullets we used were blanks. If anything, I was in greater danger than your Girls. Just look at what Buttercup did to me - and she was pointing a gun - filled with live rounds no doubt - at me. I thought I was going to die there and then."

"Good! You deserve it! Every bit of it!" the professor howled with rage. He would have gone all out on Mister Morbucks had it not been for his private security officers, who looked every bit as intimidating as he was, what with their masks.

"Come now, Mister Utonium," Morbucks tried to reason with the man, but it had only served to stoke the fire.

"Do you know how stressed out the Girls are!? Especially Bubbles!? They needed a distraction - and I thought you were giving it to them!" the professor accused madly. "Do you know how traumatizing this will be - is - for them!? For her!? She's suffering from depression and PTSD, you asshole!"

"I… honestly did not think…" Morbucks' voice trailed off, but he picked himself up quickly. "Look, it was all for the Girls' good. I've mentioned to you that this is a fund-raising ball - me and my peers are going to donate a fortune to the USDO, specifically to the Girls' program. They know about Townsville's plight but they needed to see what the Girls were capable of! Before you make an investment, you have to see the product first! That's what they-"

Morbucks had reminded the professor of Silverslick there and then, who had nearly gotten Bubbles killed with his system.

"DO NOT CALL MY GIRLS PRODUCTS, YOU OVERPRICED PIECE OF SHIT!" the professor screamed hell and fury at Morbucks, who actually looked like he was cowed by the scientist despite his bodyguards.

"I was just… Look, I was just describing things from my peers' perspective. You know how some rich people are like - I can promise you that I'm an exception," Morbucks tried to keep his calm. As a sign of good faith, he gestured for his men to put away their weapons, which they did. "Anyway, doesn't matter what we say here. It's done. But whatever sacrifice the Girls have made, it wouldn't be for nothing. I estimate at least 54 million dollars going to your Girls' program, whatever it's called - no strings attached."

"You know, this fundraiser is my baby girl's idea," Mister Morbucks went on. The professor thought that every word from the ball of lard was filled with slime. "But she's innocent in both senses of the word, and so was that charade just now. Fine, blame me all you want because I planned the whole thing, but this is all for my Elodie – she really loves your daughters and wanted to help them. If you'd see things from a child's perspective you would-"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" the professor screamed in rage. The tycoon kept quiet immediately, himself offended by how lightly the professor had treated his daughter's efforts and initiative and feelings.

"You need to listen to the man, professor," Thomas could hear a familiar voice behind him. Male. Deep. Gravelly. He turned around and saw General Blackwater in his dress uniform.

"You of all people!" the professor yelled before hurling a punch at the general, who intercepted it with a grip in mid-air effortlessly. The professor tried to pull his fist back, but the general's grip was vice-like.

"This is bigger than the both of us!" the general bellowed when he delivered a low punch to the professor's stomach. He sunk to the floor, clutching his stomach. "And this is certainly bigger than the 'family' you've built around the Girls and Selicia. Get that in your head."

"Are you sure that's necessary, general?" Mister Morbucks asked, concerned despite the fierce exchange he's had with the professor.

"Yes," the general replied as he stepped past the professor nonchalantly. "He'll get it. Now, we have matters to discuss."

"Fuck the both of you…" the professor murmured as he was still on the floor, clutching his stomach. The general had hardly put any energy into that punch, but it'd still hurt like hell. The only consolation was that the general had controlled himself well enough to avoid injuring him. A direct blow to the celiac plexus was the perfect target for temporary incapacitation - he as a doctor could recognize it instantly.

"-status of the research projects-" he could barely hear the conversation going on between the general and the tycoon, not that he cared. Picking himself up, he returned the way he came. The Girls needed him - it was all he cared about.


	12. Chapter 10: Esperanza Lost

**Chapter 10: Esperanza Lost**

**The City of Townsville. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**3 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2002.**

Clutching his stomach with a hand on the wall of the unnecessarily long corridor, Professor Utonium was stumbling his way back to the Girls, his steps small and slow. The corridor was supposed to lead back to the grand hall, but it was taking forever. While he was still far from the doors leading in, a woman in a white, flowing dress busted through them, her angel mask white as his - though he had discarded his a while back when the party had become anything but a joyous, fun occasion.

There was something about the woman he recognized. She was a brunette. Her figure was pretty but not beautiful. And when she turned to look at the professor, he noticed that the eyes were a familiar shade of light brown. She reached for her face and removed her mask.

"Alice," the professor said in pain as he stumbled towards her.

"Thomas! What happened!? Here, let me help," she was almost shouting, but she had always been the calm one. She rushed to his side, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Bastards planned all this," the professor said, his voice still dripping with venom - he couldn't help it. He had just been bitten by a snake. A snake covered in some of the world's most expensive scales.

"I heard about it," Alice replied sympathetically. "I ran to the Girls as soon as I realize what happened." And she couldn't stay with them for long, not with Selicia around. The Medusa was hissing hatefully at her when she tried to check on Buttercup.

"How are they?" the professor asked anxiously. A wave of sadness hit him; he felt like he'd failed them again. He should have known. What could he expect? The Girls were special - everyone's going to want a piece of them, and it wasn't just the criminals out in the streets. A normal life, with normal friends and a normal party wouldn't just happen to the Girls, would it? They were destined for 'greater' things.

"They're strong, Thomas," Alice said optimistically, ever the shrink. They were reaching the door. "It's going to take more than a little staged incident to break them."

"I just… want the best for them, Alice," the professor said, nearly driven to tears by the impossibility of his role. It was as if some god from above had decided that he was fated to fail at every turn. "This was supposed to be a normal party. A memorable one. Every kid's dream come true. All I've done is deliver them to a fucking zoo."

"What am I supposed to tell them?" Thomas rambled on, digging his hole of misery even deeper.

Before they went through the door, Alice leaned Professor Utonium against the wall beside it.

"Thomas… Lewis- Don't be so hard on yourself," Alice reasoned with him. She took his hand, which was larger and darker than hers. From what she knew, he was descended from a military family but had turned his back on it. But he could never turn his back from himself, how he was raised, how his psyche was put together by his parents. Like Selicia. Like everyone else. "The mind is a complex phenomenon, the brain a complex organ. It's more so with the Girls, I think. They might not take it the way you imagined it. Besides, we're still here. We can still salvage the party if we want to."

"No, we're leaving this party," the professor said. "They got what they wanted. If they're going to treat the Girls as the night's entertainment then we'll leave when the show's over."

Alice considered the professor's words for a second. Would it be healthy for the Girls? Would it be unhealthy for them? True to her own words, even she couldn't be sure - but she was sure that the professor would only do what was best for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.

"If that's what you think is good for them," Alice finally gave her approval, reluctantly. She had always been more comfortable being in the psychiatrist's office or a safe room with her patient. There, she was always in control. Out here, she could only analyze her peers' psyche, put in one or two touches and hope for the best. It felt too much like watching a train wreck happening in slow motion.

"It is," the professor said as he pushed himself off from the wall and went through the doors. Alice, however, not wanting another confrontation with Selicia, followed him only to disappear into the crowd.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Alice had said before she departed.

As the Girls waited for their Daddy to come back, they had found themselves seats near the stairs leading up. Buttercup was missing. She had gone elsewhere on a volition only the enhanced little girl knew about. Blossom sat alone, beside Mommy, untended and looking pretty upset.

Bubbles got to sit in Mommy's lap, hugging her, needy - it was too much for her that a night that was supposed to be all fun and relaxation had just turned into another 'operation', even if it was staged. It'd reminded her of… everything. Once again, bad memories forced themselves to the surface, like gunshots and grenade explosions, and her untrained and undisciplined mind had no power over it. Her make-up was smudged again.

The Princess wasn't far away, but she was unsure of what to do with her own gloved hands, unsure of even what she should do. The Girls' father had all but told her that she was guilty of the deception, even if she hadn't planned the whole thing. She had unwittingly helped to put the Girls where they needed to be just so they could give her dad's friends a demonstration - that seemed enough to implicate her, to bury guilt into her heart. For a brief moment, Bubbles and Princess' eyes met, but it wasn't like before when they were dancing together. There was a certain distance now.

Professor Utonium didn't take long to find them despite the crowd. It was easy to spot the Girls because of the colors of their sequin dresses, make-up, and glowing eyes. He forced himself to stand straight despite the aching pain in his solar plexus, marching up to them.

"Girls, we're leaving," the professor declared, then realized that there was something wrong with the picture. "Where's Buttercup?"

"Right here!" Buttercup, who was already floating over to them, mumbled as if her mouth was full. The professor turned to look. She had a plate in her hand, and she looked like she had just devoured half of what she took. Her mouth was filthy, dripping sauce and chunks of meat. She was attracting stares from everyone, including her family. "What? I was starving!"

If nothing else, it'd reminded the professor that dinner was supposed to be part of the party, and they hadn't eaten anything - not even Selicia and him, who had only had a few sticks of expensive kebab. Looking at Blossom and Bubbles, he could only believe that hunger had added to their misery.

"We're leaving. Right now," the professor repeated himself. Reluctantly, Selicia got up with Bubbles still in her arms, walking towards the door. Blossom followed behind her, floating erratically, an indication of misery. Buttercup looked like she couldn't believe what was going on, and proceeded to go through the rest of her plate messily before shoving the dirty dish into the arms of a passing waiter.

The Princess was alarmed by this. Things weren't supposed to happen like this. The Girls and she were supposed to be having a good time! She knew she could salvage the situation - they could joke about the 'attack' her dad had staged! They could do other things to distract themselves!

"But- but-" the Princess stuttered as she struggled to find the words to express herself. No one was listening. She ran up to the professor, tugging at the legging of his tuxedo. "You're not supposed to leave! The party's just getting started!"

Annoyed, Professor Utonium ignored the Princess nonetheless, hoping that the rich brat who ruined his Girls' time would just do the smart thing and leave his family alone.

"Bubbles! Blossom! Buttercup!" Elodie screamed. "I have a table for the four of us! We're supposed to eat together and talk and- We're supposed to have a great time and- and-" The professor and his family walked on. Bubbles peeked from over Selicia's shoulder, conflicted as to what to feel and what to do, but the warm embrace of her Mom had left her deferring to her 'parents' decisions. "Stop! Please! I'm sorry!"

The professor whirled around quite suddenly that Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks was shocked and had backed away, even forgetting to keep calm as was befitting of someone like her. She was shaken by the adult's reaction, how blunt he was towards her.

"You're sorry!? You better be!" the professor lectured the rich little girl. "I let the Girls visit you because I thought they've met a good friend! Thanks for proving me wrong, little lady!"

The professor's sharp words had cut incredibly deep; it didn't help that Elodie's emotional defenses were little to non-existent because of how her short life had been full of suffering, because of her tender young age. She froze, the words still ringing loudly in her ears, in her mind. She shook with barely-controlled, strong emotions. Barely holding back an avalanche of tears, she balled her hands up into fists as she looked on while the Girls drifted further and further away from her - the best friends she'd ever had, for the five weeks they'd known each other - until they disappeared out of the door.

It was enough to snap the professor out of his rage, perhaps make him think twice about unloading it on the little girl. Could he rightly blame a little girl for the deception her father had concocted? Had raising Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup clouded his judgment? Horror dawned upon him when he realized what he had done, but what was done was done.

"I'm sorry. But this is all too much," the professor said weakly while he was on the threshold, and on seeing a pair of Princess' bodyguards coming up to him, he turned around and left. The Princess did not seem to have heard him, and instead still stood where she was, trembling with untold agony in her. There was so much pain and sadness in her and it occurred to her there and then that she was better off dying of cancer instead.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Pete's-A Pizzeria.**

**3 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2023.**

To make up for the complete disaster that was the Morbucks' party, Professor Utonium ordered the limousine driver to take his family to one of their favorites - Pete's-A Pizzeria. No words were exchanged between them, no discussions and no consensus. None of them wanted to be there, but all of them were going there. Selicia kept silent - he knew how people could get when they were angry, as she had a first-hand example in herself. Blossom was too confused to ask questions. Bubbles was too upset. Buttercup was endlessly throwing out words and questions at first, but when no one answered her, she too eventually fell silent.

When they entered the Pizzeria, the place was as depressed as they were - empty of customers, with half the staff gone and half the lights off. The animatronics were powered down. When they settled down to order their pizzas, the dog suit waiter, who reminded Bubbles of Stanley Talker, informed them that they were closing in half an hour.

They stayed silent as they waited for their consolation meal. It was awkward, as the entire family was seated in a booth. Professor Utonium, Blossom and Bubbles were on one side and Selicia and Buttercup were on the other.

The pizzas came after that. Their appetites weren't whetted by the garlic bread and neither did their sparkling sodas lighten up the mood. The professor thought the pizzas tasted like rubber and plastic, as lifeless as himself right then - but he couldn't blame the restaurant. He'd lost his appetite and taste the moment Mister Morbucks revealed himself to be one of the fake shooters.

Even Buttercup wasn't pigging out on her slices of pizzas, and it wasn't just because she'd snuck some food into her during the party.

"Girls, we need to talk about what happened…" the professor finally said, each word harder to spit out than the last. But it had to be done. He couldn't stand seeing his family looking like a bunch of rejects being cast aside. Looking out the window, he saw the only people he and his Girls had left for company was clinical and cold - a convoy of USDO soldiers 'protecting' them. "Blossom, how are you feeling?"

"I'm confused… Why would Mister Morbucks trick us? And in his own party? Why was everyone acting so strangely?" Blossom rambled on. She hadn't touched her pizza at all. "It was supposed to be fun tonight…"

"Eat your food, dear. It'll get cold if you don't," Selicia said to the little girl, who obeyed and mechanically picked up her slice of pizza and nibbled on it.

"It was supposed to be a party…" Bubbles added. The professor knew it would happen. His sweetest adopted daughter had taken it the hardest. Alice had warned him about Bubbles' condition, which would be easily triggered - even a random loud noise could set it off. It was worse when it came so unexpected when her guard was down and she was with people she'd trusted. It was definitely worse when those people she'd trusted had broken that trust.

"I wish there were more of them though," Buttercup said as she took a bite out of her pizza. Her appetite, too, was diminished because the staged attack had reminded her of what she truly craved for, and the fact that she wouldn't be able to satisfy that craving. "It's stupid! I wish it was real so I can beat the snot out of them!" And more - of course, Buttercup did not mention the fact that she wanted to utterly ravage them, then kill them. Blossom had, as usual, stopped her from even taking a fraction of that.

"Now, now, Buttercup. That's not very nice," the professor said to his most overactive little one, then turned to the others. Selicia scooted up next to Buttercup and snuggled with her. Picking her up, she placed her on her lap and began feeding her more pizza. The professor sighed. "You see, Girls, some people in that party were curious about what you could do whenever you're fighting crime. They wanted to see it."

"Can't they see it on the TV?" Blossom said, ever the smart one. "Or hear about it on the radio?"

"Yes, but you see, it's different when it's happening in front of you," the professor went on to explain. "They were wrong to trick the three of you. So next time, Girls, don't let anyone treat you like clowns. It means they were being disrespectful to you. Okay?"

"Okay…" the Girls agreed in unison.

"I'm sorry I brought the three of you into this. I didn't know what they were planning," the professor said, the pain in his voice at being unable to protect his own children quite apparent.

"I don't blame you, Dad," Blossom said, and took his arm and slipped it around her.

Bubbles, however, remain conflicted. She'd seen how the Princess looked on her way out. Elodie wouldn't have wanted them to be upset, would she? Neither did she need to see what she and her sisters could do - she'd witnessed it first-hand on that day when she had nearly died because of Mojo Jojo. For the past month since that battle, Elodie Morbucks had been nothing but nice to her and her sisters, inviting them for an afternoon at her place, and even a sleepover that had been fun and memorable.

"Dad, they didn't mean to hurt us, did they?" Bubbles asked as she was looking down at the Cthulu mask Elodie Morbucks had given her, clasped tightly as if it was some priceless treasure. "Elodie… She... She's our friend. She couldn't have wanted this."

"Maybe they didn't, but they should've known better," the professor maintained his stance. "Good friends know better. The bad ones don't. They're not good. The 'Princess' wasn't a good friend."

"But we've made mistakes before," Bubbles said. "Townsville forgave us. The mayor forgave us. So did everyone else." At least from her point of view - there were still many who bore grudges and even hatred against them, just that they were either not very close to the Girls, or they were simply just strangers. All of them wouldn't have made it known to the Girls.

The professor blinked at her when he heard what she said. It was incredibly insightful - and such things would normally come from Blossom. It'd caught him there - she was right and he was wrong. In his near-insane fit of rage, he had let himself become utterly hostile, forgetting that he was surrounded by people. While he couldn't forgive the likes of Mister Morbucks and General Blackwater - the ones who were, overall, responsible - he knew he couldn't maintain the same anger against Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks, or even the other guests of the party - did all of them knew exactly what was going on? Did they even know that the Girls were in the dark? For all he knew, they could have thought that the entire thing was staged with the Girls' permission.

"Are we still friends with the Princess?" Bubbles asked. "I still want to be friends with her. She looked so sad when she was all alone there at the party." She'd seen the poor cancer-stricken little girl just before she went through the front door while she was in her Daddy's arms. It was as if the Princess had lost her soul because she couldn't see it in her eyes. It was as if her very blood had gone completely cold - was gone, period. It was as if she had died on the spot even when she was still standing.

"I don't know, we'll see," the professor simply said.


	13. B47, B48 & B49 Psychiatric Session020489

**B-47, B-48 & B-49 Psychiatric Session 02041989**

The following is a transcript derived from an audio recording created by Doctor Alice of the USDO's Psychiatry and Social Services Department.

**DOC: 4 FEB 1989 (Saturday).**

**Timestamp: 2020.**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Doctor Alice: Hello, Bubbles. We're going to try something different today.

Bubbles: Are we going to play a game, Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: You can think of it as a game if you want. (sound of ruffling in a bag) Here, put this on, it'd help you focus.

Bubbles: But I've never needed the blindfold. Isn't it for Buttercup?

Doctor Alice: Yeah well, it's especially important today that we do this well. Now, put on the blindfold and lie back on the couch.

Bubbles: (Whimpers) I don't like that I can't see.

Doctor Alice: (sound of sofa crinkling) Hey, Bubbles, it's fine. Do you want to hold my hand?

Bubbles: Yes…

Doctor Alice: You're safe with me. You can trust me.

Bubbles: (sound of cloth folding and cord snapping. A sofa crinkles, presumably when Bubbles lie down) What are we going to do, Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: We're going to talk about that night, Bubbles, when you saved dozens of lives in Morbucks Industries Research Labs. Now, why don't you clear your thoughts - don't think about anything else. Let yourself drift. Good. I want you to go back to that night when you were in that panic room. What did you feel that night?

Bubbles: (pained) lots of pain. It hurts real bad. I was scared, not just for myself too. I was really scared for my friends. I… I was afraid I couldn't save them.

Doctor Alice: What else?

Bubbles: It was dark. The lights went out, and all that was left was the blue light coming from me. It made it worse… I was so scared and I couldn't see my friends as well anymore and looking at them… helps me…

Doctor Alice: What else? Tell me.

Bubbles: It was worse when I couldn't see because it made things felt like they were going on forever. The pain… so long… I couldn't… Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: (sound of a hand sliding on hand) It's okay, I'm here.

Bubbles: I couldn't breathe… And it went on for so long… I felt so helpless.

Doctor Alice: Tell me what you felt when the ceiling finally opened.

Bubbles: I couldn't see, because it was so bright outside. I felt pain in my eyes… Pain everywhere, even when I had nothing left to carry. I felt woozy and… I fainted, I think.

Doctor Alice: Did you feel anything good?

Bubbles: I don't know…

Doctor Alice: Try.

Bubbles: I… felt relieved, I guess.

Doctor Alice: Anything else? Try to remember.

Bubbles: Safe too? But it didn't last very long because I fainted.

Doctor Alice: What did you feel after that? When you woke up?

Bubbles: I felt happy.

Doctor Alice: Why?

Bubbles: Because I saved lives and made… friends.

Doctor Alice: Why the pause when you mentioned 'friends', Bubbles?

Bubbles: I don't know…

Doctor Alice: What were you thinking when you said 'friends'?

Bubbles: I was thinking about yesterday.

Doctor Alice: Oh. I was there. I saw what happened. I'm sorry, but we need to go back to what we were doing, alright? We can talk about that another time. Try to remember, Bubbles - what did you feel when you had one of those nightmares about the panic room? Did you feel the same way as you did back when you were in the labs?

Bubbles: (pause) Yes.

Doctor Alice: Do you feel more terrified or less?

Bubbles: I don't know… Less, I guess.

Doctor Alice: Why?

Bubbles: (cries) Because I had Daddy with me.

Doctor Alice: Do you think it is because you know it was a nightmare, too?

Bubbles: But it felt so real… (sobs) and… Yes… (cries)

Doctor Alice: Would you like me to stop?

Bubbles: (sobs) Can I have a hug?

Doctor Alice: Sure you can.

(Audio recording stopped before starting again)

Doctor Alice: (From a distance) Thanks so much for this. (muffled sound of a little girl talking) No, she's fine. (muffled sound of a little girl talking) Don't worry about it, Blossom. (muffled sound of a little girl talking) That's nice. See you later, okay? (muffled sound of little girl replying before the door closes)

(Footsteps coming towards audio recorder. The sound of something being put down on a table)

Doctor Alice: Hey, Bubbles. How's that marshmallow?

Bubbles: It's nice. What's in that box?

Doctor Alice: Oh, don't worry about it. Let's continue talking about your fears, okay?

Bubbles: Do we have to?

Doctor Alice: You've been a brave girl, Bubbles.

Bubbles: (sullen) I'm not…

Doctor Alice: Believe that you are, Bubbles. No one else in Townsville could have saved those people but you did.

Bubbles: Blossom and Buttercup could have.

Doctor Alice: Other than them, I mean. Anyway, it's through talking about your fears and reasoning with them that you learn to overcome them. Do you feel that way, Bubbles?

Bubbles: I guess…

Doctor Alice: Now, we've talked about the many bad things you felt when you were in that hole and when you had your nightmares - how scared and helpless you were. It's easy to feel that way when something happens. But Bubbles, you said it yourself - there were other things you felt, can you tell me what they are again?

Bubbles: Relief and pride? I was safe with my father… I was happy when it was over.

Doctor Alice: Every time you get into something bad, focus on that. Bad things will always happen, Bubbles, but they don't last. Did any good things happen in the past few months since you were born?

Bubbles: Yes.

Doctor Alice: Do you have an example?

Bubbles: Like the Princess' sleepover? When we played house before that? When Blossom was with me and things go well when we were fighting crime… My first week's birthday. Going out with my family…

Doctor Alice: You see what I mean, Bubbles? I asked for an example, but you've given me so many. You see, Bubbles, when something bad happens, we tend to hold on to it and forget about the good things because that's what our brain does.

Bubbles: But it's my brain. Why does it have to be mean to me?

Doctor Alice: (laughs) Yes, it's your brain, Bubbles. You can control it. It holds onto bad things because it's how we learn right from wrong, what is good and what is bad. It's why we cherish what's closest to us. Your father, for instance… (pauses) But it can go overboard sometimes, and that's when you have to tell it to stop and start smelling the Dandelions.

Bubbles: It feels good talking to you.

Doctor Alice: I'm glad it does.

Bubbles: So what's in the box?

Doctor Alice: It's a briefcase, honey. I was just about to show you. Now, don't be alarmed, alright? Nothing bad's going to happen. Do you believe me?

Bubbles: Y-yes… What's in it?

Doctor Alice: (sound of tabs unclasping and a briefcase opening.)

Bubbles: (alarmed) Alice! No!

Doctor Alice: (sound of metal clattering) Hey, Bubbles! Calm down! Nothing's going to happen. Trust me.

Bubbles: B-but why did you bring t-that shotgun in here? It's dangerous!

Doctor Alice: I just wanted to show you something. (the sound of shotgun pumping) That you're in control. (shotgun was triggered, but it was a dry fire. Only the sound of clicking could be heard) Here, take it.

Bubbles: I don't wanna…

Doctor Alice: Remember what I said, Bubbles? We need to talk and reason with your fear so that we may conquer it. Now, it's time you take action. We've talked about it last week. These guns may cause pain to you, but they're harmless.

Bubbles: But some of them are harmful…

Doctor Alice: Those are special, they're not counted. Now take it, Bubbles. (sound of metal shifting on flesh)

Bubbles: But they could hurt people like you.

Doctor Alice: And that's why you're out there stopping it. Take it, Bubbles.

Bubbles: Okay…

Doctor Alice: Now, I'm going to be with you throughout this exercise, okay? (sound of sofa crinkling) Here, hold it properly.

Bubbles: Okay…

Doctor Alice: Remember, Bubbles. You're in control. You're holding the shotgun now, and you're in control. There's nothing to fear from a gun - as long as you're in control.

Bubbles: But what if the bad guys control it?

Doctor Alice: Did that ever stop you from beating them up?

Bubbles: N-no…

Doctor Alice: No. Exactly. And if it ever did, you could easily stop them. Pump the shotgun, Bubbles.

Bubbles: I… Okay… (sound of shotgun pumping)

Doctor Alice: Pull the trigger. (sound of shotgun dry-firing and clicking) Very good. Now keep doing it. (repeated sound of shotgun pumping and clicking on empty, the pace getting faster and faster) Good, very good. How do you feel?

Bubbles: Better… I guess? You're right, Miss Alice. I was in control. But… I just feel… scared when I see it. I can't explain it.

Doctor Alice: That's because you had a bad day back at that bank, Bubbles. It was a really bad first impression, but you know what? It doesn't have to be bad all the time. Like now - nothing bad's happening with the shotgun, right?

Bubbles: I believe you…

Doctor Alice: Good. I'm glad you do. If you were any other kid, I wouldn't have encouraged this, but… Do this every day, alright? Show that shotgun who's boss. Pump it and shoot it every day. It'll help clear your head. That shotgun belongs to Blossom, by the way. I've talked to her about it, and she said she'll let you keep it since she no longer uses it - eye beam and all that.

Bubbles: No wonder it looks familiar…

Doctor Alice: Well, I guess we're done for today. It's great working with you, Bubbles.

Bubbles: Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: Yes?

Bubbles: Thanks… I don't know what I'll do without you.

Doctor Alice: Hey, don't mention it.

Bubbles: Can I kiss you?

Doctor Alice: (laughs) Sure (sound of lips smacking) You're a sweetheart, you know that? I can see why the professor loves you so much. Now run along - I'm sure your dad's waiting for you. (sound of wind whooshing and door opening and closing)

(sound of sofa crinkling)

Doctor Alice: Results seem optimistic. While we've only worked on some of the problems plaguing her, I think we're making progress. While it'll be a long time before her claustrophobia and haplophobia are completely stamped out - if it is at all possible, in which case minimized is a better word - I'll call it a breakthrough and a win today. Her depression and PTSD, however, is another matter. While all her mental disorders are no doubt linked, I have consulted with Professor Utonium and discovered that there are genetic factors at play with Bubbles' mental conditions. This will severely limit the job I'm doing - to one of management rather than cure. Permanent… rather than temporary. I hope I'm up to the task.

I will need to consult with the council on this. Bubbles can't keep going out there, or it'll be back to square one every time she did. I… want to remain professional at all times but… It hurts me every time I see her on my couch with her mental trauma reopened again - and widely too.

I don't think they'll kill her for it this time. Most of the council had swung around in Bubbles' favor. But neither are they going to give her any kind of vacation. We're still at war with the criminal underground, and I doubt it's going to end any time soon. If only there's someone to substitute for Bubbles…

* * *

**Timestamp: 2042**

Doctor Alice: (Door opens, she speaks in an excited way that borders on acting) Blossom! Hey! It's nice to see you!

Blossom: Hi, Miss Alice! It's nice to see you too! (sound of wind and sofa crinkling) May I have one?

Doctor Alice: Ever the nice and polite one, I see. Sure, have as many marshmallows as you want.

Blossom: Thanks. They're really nice.

Doctor Alice: You sure you want just one? Why not take a few more?

Blossom: My Dad says not to eat too much of this stuff. Should I lie down this time?

Doctor Alice: No, you don't have to. Listen, Blossom… We need to talk.

Blossom: What are we talking about, Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: It's Bubbles. I'm worried about her.

Blossom: (Sad) Me too…

Doctor Alice: I've been speaking to her, and we need to talk about your leadership, how you've been using her in your missions.

Blossom: (defensively) And how have I been using her, Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: (shock) I- I'm sorry - that sounded wrong, the way it came out. I didn't mean that. I was talking about the strategy you've been using that involves her.

Blossom: (still defensively) Did I do something wrong?

Doctor Alice: Blossom, I'm not blaming you for anything. You trust me, right?

Blossom: (pause) Yes.

Doctor Alice: I've been speaking to Bubbles and, um, I've been looking at security footages of your fights and I think you need to stop putting Bubbles on the front lines so much.

Blossom: (softly) You're blaming me…

Doctor Alice: (talking over Blossom, and have likely missed what she said) You ordered her to rush criminals with shotguns - regularly - and just yesterday, you ordered her to fly into the sights of twenty criminals alone. She had to fight alone after that. It's not the first time, either, Blossom.

Blossom: You don't understand!

Doctor Alice: Blossom, you do know that your sister's suffering from a fear of shotguns, right? That she's very sensitive and suffering from certain mental illnesses?

Blossom: (agitated) But we're all afraid and getting shot hurts all of us-

Doctor Alice: Yeah, but Bubbles most of all-

Blossom: (agitated) Bubbles needs to realize she wasn't the only one who's afraid!

Doctor Alice: Honey, it's not that simple! You-

Blossom: (hysterical) WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO!?

Doctor Alice: (shocked) There, there, Blossom, calm down-

Blossom: (screaming, sound of glassware sliding rapidly and breaking on the ground) YOU WEREN'T THERE, ALICE!

Doctor Alice: Blossom!

Blossom: (shouting) MOM SAID I CAN'T LET BUTTERCUP GET HURT! AND YOU'RE SAYING I CAN'T LET BUBBLES GET HURT! (Heavy breathing) WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO!? (heavy breathing)

Doctor Alice: Blossom, just- stop!

Blossom: (screaming) Let go of me! (high-pitched screaming) NO! (sound of impact on a sofa) Stop touching me!

Doctor Alice: Argh!

Blossom: You said you weren't blaming me! YOU LIED! (sound of coffee table crashing into a sofa)

(Sound of door opening with a loud bang and X-energy burst of sound. Blossom's wailing and crying fade into the distance.)

Doctor Alice: Blossom! Wait! Shit… Ouch…

Doctor Alice: (crying) God damn it… I can't believe… (takes a deep breath) That wasn't good at all. It seems that she's been badly affected by her position of responsibility. But that can't be it. Anxiety could only be a symptom. Something must have set her off. She mentioned something about 'mom'. Fucking Selicia must have done something, but yesterday's masquerade party is just as much likely to be affecting her.

The main cause, however, remains simple - there's a damn good reason why we don't put a gun in a kid's hand and ask her to pull the trigger on someone. Blossom's been doing that, in a way, with Bubbles and Buttercup, God knows how many times. It's what all leaders do - military leaders, especially. They - Blossom had to point her finger and send her sisters into battle repeatedly, knowing they could get hurt.

That's not to mention the fact that she's fighting people - and while there are very few fatalities in the past month, there were numerous last year. Is guilt another factor leading to her meltdown?

In any case, I won't be finding out for a while. Will she even be willing to see me next week?

* * *

**Timestamp: 2055**

Buttercup: Whoa! What happened here, Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: Don't mind me, I was just cleaning up. (sound of table screeching back into position)

Buttercup: Should I help? The couches look too heavy for you.

Doctor Alice: No, it's fine. I'll move those later. You don't mind the room being a little messy, do you?

Buttercup: No, Miss Alice. I'm not like my sisters - they're completely crazy! Who needs everything to be perfectly neat? We're just going to take them out anyway…

Doctor Alice: I guess it's good to be tolerant of imperfections… (nervous laughter) Have a seat, Buttercup.

Buttercup: What are we going to do today?

Doctor Alice: Oh, just the usual stuff. How was yesterday's patrol? I bet nothing happened, right?

Buttercup: You bet wrong, Miss Alice! We busted up a bunch of bad guys, and I was able to beat up all of them myself! Bubbles was just being her usual scaredy cat self and Blossom was missing most of the time! It was awesome - I guess my sisters do need me after all.

Doctor Alice: Hmm. And the party yesterday? I heard from your father that you got to dance that night? Did you dance well?

Buttercup: Of course, Miss Alice. It was easy - too bad my sisters kept stepping on their dancers' shoes. There's nothing I can't do, even if I hate dancing…

Doctor Alice: Well, it's good that you were having fun yesterday then, Buttercup. (ruffling of cloth) Here, wear the blindfold and lie down.

Buttercup: Aw, do I have to?

Doctor Alice: Yes, Buttercup. You don't see it yet, but it helps. (sound of cord snapping into place and sofa crinkling) Alright, Buttercup. Comfy?

Buttercup: Yep. Hey, can I have some marshmallows?

Doctor Alice: Oh… About that… I kinda dropped them on the way here. Tell you what - I'll give you twice the number of marshmallows next week, how about that?

Buttercup: That would be nice. Thanks!

Doctor Alice: Now… Just relax and trust me. Listen to the sound of my voice. Imagine what I ask of you, and only that. Do you understand?

Buttercup: Yes, Miss Alice. (Giggles)

Doctor Alice: I'm serious.

Buttercup: Okay…

Doctor Alice: Now… I want you to go back to the last time you beat a person up. Are you there?

Buttercup: (laughs) Yes.

Doctor Alice: When was it?

Buttercup: Yesterday.

Doctor Alice: Tell me how it was like.

Buttercup: It was at the party. There was a guy in a black mask. I punched him in the face and he flew really far and it was funny. (laughs)

Doctor Alice: How did you feel when you did that? Tell me honestly, Buttercup. I'm sure you want to.

Buttercup: It felt really good, Miss Alice. I like the feel of a punch. Too bad he wasn't much of a fighter though - because a fight would have been better. I get to punch someone more and hurt him worse.

Doctor Alice: Why do you like hurting people?

Buttercup: Because it felt good?

Doctor Alice: Is there anything else?

Buttercup: I feel… powerful that way. Is that the right word?

Doctor Alice: Yes, it is. But don't you think it's wrong to hurt someone? By that, I mean injuring someone, causing broken bones and bleeding and torn skin and such.

Buttercup: No. Why should it be? They're the bad guys. I don't know why Dad and Blossom kept saying it's wrong. They deserve it! Bad guys aren't entirely bad? Pfff! They're asking for a beatdown as long as they're there!

Doctor Alice: Have you ever felt bad for anyone you've hurt? I'm talking in general – including hurting someone's feelings.

Buttercup: Why should I?

Doctor Alice: And what if it's your family and friends?

Buttercup: You mean like Bubbles? She deserves it… Maybe she'll be less of a crybaby and more of a help that way.

Doctor Alice: Have you thought about the consequences of your actions? Like if you were to severely injure or kill a bad guy?

Buttercup: Blossom and Dad would get mad at me, so I couldn't do it most of the time. Blossom tattles on me all the time and Dad's less fun when he's mad at me. Does that count, Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: But what about the bad guy's family? Say he's a father of three and killing him will mean three children without a father. Does that trouble you?

Buttercup: Why should I care? It's not my problem.

Doctor Alice: Very well… You're doing great, Buttercup. Now… I want you to imagine your father for me. How does he normally look like when he found out you've killed someone.

Buttercup: You mean like last year?

Doctor Alice: Yes, like last year. Tell me about it.

Buttercup: He… I don't know how to…

Doctor Alice: Try.

Buttercup: Is sad the word? I don't know, angry too? But he doesn't show it like I do. I just know that it's… inside him? He's a little scary that way - please don't tell him I said that.

Doctor Alice: He loves you, Buttercup. That's why. Now, has he ever, like, blown up at you before?

Buttercup: Once, when I took Bubbles' truck, back when we couldn't speak very well.

Doctor Alice: That's a very long time ago, isn't it? I want you to recall his face when he did. Tell me about it.

Buttercup: It was… scary. I didn't like it one bit. I cried when I saw it. It… (sobs)

Doctor Alice: Are you okay?

Buttercup: I'm fine. Sorry. (Sniffles) (Alice's note: Buttercup appears to retain perfect memory of her early days despite lacking the ability to speak or even form her thoughts in words during those humble times. It is possible her reaction is a direct result of the emotions she remembers when her psychopathy has not been fully manifested yet. I can use it as a basis for her morals.)

Doctor Alice: No, Buttercup, you didn't do anything wrong. You don't have to apologize for it.

Buttercup: I'm sorry (sobs) I don't know- (sobs) what's happening to me (sniffles).

Doctor Alice: Buttercup, it's okay to cry - and it's okay to be afraid or feel sad when someone else is sad or afraid or angry. Do you understand?

Buttercup: Sorta. (sniffles)

Doctor Alice: Here, have a napkin. (sound of paper being pulled out) But I'm afraid I'm going to have to be frank with you on this one. If you keep killing, I think your Daddy might put on that face more often. He's a good man, Buttercup, and he'll likely blow up if you keep hurting people callously and killing them. See, a good man like him hates such things.

Buttercup: But I haven't killed anyone since Christmas!

Doctor Alice: I… didn't say you did, Buttercup, I was just-

Buttercup: I didn't.

Doctor Alice: (pause) I know, I know. I'm just saying that you're putting your father in a very bad spot and he's not going to react well whenever you do something wrong, okay? Buttercup, you know he cares and he knows what's good for you.

Buttercup: I know.

Doctor Alice: Good. Besides, if you're good, he'll be good to you too - and good girls deserve things like ice cream and presents. You like those stuff, do you?

Buttercup: Yes…

Doctor Alice: Just like how you like marshmallows?

Buttercup: Did you really drop them, Miss Alice? I really want some….

Doctor Alice: Be a good girl and you'll get plenty next week.

Buttercup: Okay…

Doctor Alice: Hmm… I think we're almost done, Buttercup. You've been great.

Buttercup: Thanks.

Doctor Alice: Just one more thing though. You kept mentioning, without fail, that you like hurting the bad guys. Tell me honestly, Buttercup - because good girls are honest - have you ever wanted to hurt the 'good guys'? I mean really hurt them? Like breaking a few bones, causing tears and cuts and bleeding, anything of that sort?

Buttercup: Promise me you won't tell?

Doctor Alice: You can trust me, Buttercup. I'm your therapist, so I'm supposed to keep secrets.

Buttercup: Yes.

Doctor Alice: Even now?

Buttercup: Yes, Miss Alice.

Doctor Alice: Who?

Buttercup: My sisters. Some of my classmates in school.

Doctor Alice: Why?

Buttercup: Because they really annoy me. Blossom wouldn't stop ordering me around and watching me and telling on me, and Bubbles! Urgh! She's so useless and all she ever does is cry! She's killing me with her crying! She's so- she left me there and cried like a little… like a little… Argh! When I was hurt and needed help!

Doctor Alice: What about your classmates? Why would you want to hurt them?

Buttercup: Some of them are really stupid! Like, all they ever do is make paper dolls and spell and add numbers and say stupid things. They're not like me, or even Blossom and Bubbles.

Doctor Alice: I see. Is there anyone else you felt like hurting?

Buttercup: I feel like hurting you too, Miss Alice. I kept imagining how it'd sound like for you to scream. Or how you look like on the inside.

Doctor Alice: (gasps, shallow breathing) What did you say?

Buttercup: You wanted me to be honest, Miss Alice. Am I a good girl for being honest?

Doctor Alice: (hesitation) W-why yes, of course. Very nice of you. Why… would you want to hurt me?

Buttercup: You kept asking me questions, Miss Alice, and I kept giving you my secrets. You kept bringing out these… feelings in me. And my Mom told me how mean you are, too. But you seem nice enough. I wish you have some marshmallows now, too.

Doctor Alice: What's… stopping you from hurting me, Buttercup?

Buttercup: I don't know. Nothing really. Your marshmallows, I guess? Daddy wouldn't like it, and I don't want him to hate me for it.

Doctor Alice: I- Uh- I see.

Buttercup: Are you afraid of me, Miss Alice?

Doctor Alice: To be honest? Yes. But Buttercup?

Buttercup: Hmm?

Doctor Alice: I'm here for you. That's what friends are for. (Silence) Here, let me take that blindfold off. (cloth folding, cord snapping) Thanks for talking to me, Buttercup. I'll see you next week?

Buttercup: (sofa crinkling) Sure, Miss Alice. Don't forget to bring the marshmallows.

Doctor Alice: I… of course.

(The sound of Buttercup getting up and walking away, before opening and closing the door)

Doctor Alice: (sigh) That was close. Too close for comfort. Analysis: Buttercup remains a pathological liar, which is symptomatic of her severe psychopathy. However, owing to her inexperience, she is not very good at it. She had told some very obvious lies about her performance in combat in the steel factory and during the dance at Morbucks' party. I guess she didn't know that I had notes on those events. As expected, her psychopathy remains as it was before. Of all the things Chemical X couldn't do, it's getting rid of mental illnesses. (sigh) It's her less obvious lies that worries me though. I can only wonder how many people she'd killed this month.

There's some good news. Buttercup appears to have the makings of a pro-social psychopath. It was dangerous, sure, but she had outright stated that she was holding back on hurting me because of Professor Utonium. She appears to be responding to rewards, and as it appears, could reason with consequences in terms of logic, young as she is. It might not be ideal, but this path I've been exploring is the best chance we have at a Buttercup who could function in normal society.

What concerns me the most, however, is that her duties in Townsville might not exactly bring out the best in Buttercup. It's going to be one temptation after another to do bad things, to hurt and kill. In a city like Townsville, there's going to be a lot of bad influences, stuff that could set Buttercup off in the wrong direction. As with Bubbles, I guess I'll be treating her permanently. Psychopathy isn't something that can be cured. I don't know what I was expecting. There's been too many miracles with Chemical X that I've started to take it for granted, I guess.

* * *

**Timestamp: 2115**

(sound of ruffling and things being shifted about as Alice packs her bag)

(There was a knock on the door)

Professor Utonium: Hey, Alice. How did the Girls do?

Doctor Alice: Splendid, actually. I believe I've made progress with all of them…

Professor Utonium: That's great. I'll definitely want to hear all about it later.

Doctor Alice: Later?

Professor Utonium: (softly) Come on, don't be shy now. She's right there. Alice and I will have to talk, honey, and then she'll have to leave.

Doctor Alice: Professor?

Professor Utonium: Stop hiding behind me, Blossom. Be brave- there you are, that's good.

Blossom: Hey, Miss Alice.

Doctor Alice: Blossom. It's nice to see you again… after…

Blossom: I'm sorry about what I did just now. I was just… I couldn't control myself… and… I just felt so angry and… (sobs)

Doctor Alice: Hey… It's okay… Come here…

Blossom: (cries) I'm sorry I got mad. (sobs) I didn't mean to hurt you…

Doctor Alice: But you didn't! Hey… It's okay… It's not your fault.

Blossom: (cries) What am I supposed to do? (sobs) It's so hard sometimes…

Doctor Alice: What you've always been doing, Blossom. (hair ruffling) You've been such a strong girl - you just need to be careful with Bubbles a little more, okay? She's... she's just not as strong as you.

Blossom: What about Buttercup? Mom hates it when she gets hurt…

Doctor Alice: I'll talk to her. It'll be fine. But for now, I guess… Buttercup's your sister too. I'm sure you already know what's good for her.

Blossom: Thanks, Miss Alice. I'm sorry I broke your bowl.

Doctor Alice: Nah, it's fine. It's just some cheap glass bowl I should have left at home anyway. I don't know why I didn't bring a plastic one.

Blossom: (sniffles) Will we speak again next week?

Doctor Alice: Of course… Hey… I'll always be here for you. That's what friends are for, right?

Blossom: You're such a good friend. I don't deserve it.

Doctor Alice: Don't be so hard on yourself. You do - you're young, Blossom. It's natural for you to make mistakes. It's how you learn - I'm not even mad at all, okay? It was nothing just now.

Blossom: I won't do it again…

Doctor Alice: I know you won't. (pats Blossom's back) Now off you go - go spend some time with your sisters, okay?

Blossom: Okay…

* * *

**Timestamp: 2120**

(Sound of sound recording playing on a cassette player. Blossom screams and Doctor Alice pleads for her to calm down in the recording. The recording stops.)

Professor Utonium: I've never seen Blossom like that before. (Sigh)

Doctor Alice: Neither have I.

Professor Utonium: It's getting to her, isn't it?

Doctor Alice: There's more to it than that. You need to talk to Selicia about this. I don't know what she did, but she's making Blossom's anxiety worse. You heard what Blossom said in the recording, right? 'Mom said I can't let Buttercup get hurt'?

Professor Utonium: That just sounds to me like Selicia's being protective of Buttercup. That's normal. It could just be a passing remark she made, and Blossom took it the wrong way.

Doctor Alice: Thomas, playing favoritism is one thing, but I think she's been saying or doing something to Blossom behind your back. She wouldn't have blown up like that – other factors considered.

Professor Utonium: What are you saying?

Doctor Alice: I have no specifics, but she could be doing anything from pressuring Blossom into making certain decisions to outright abusing her. I couldn't find out the truth because my session with Blossom today was cut short-

Professor Utonium: Selicia wouldn't do that. She loves Blossom. Sure, Buttercup most of all, but she loves the Girls, all of them, I know it!

Doctor Alice: It's entirely possible for someone to hurt another even if she loves her, Thomas.

Professor Utonium: Selicia wouldn't. She loves them. She knows how hurting the Girls in any way would make me feel. It's happened before, and she wouldn't do it again.

Doctor Alice: Please don't be mad at me. We have to put our feelings aside to help those we love, Thomas. Including your love for Selicia.

Professor Utonium: I'm not mad. I'll talk to Selicia about it. You're right, I have to make sure nothing's going on.

Doctor Alice: I was thinking I should do that, actually.

Professor Utonium: No, that wouldn't work. She hates you with a passion, and I mean it. She exploded on me during our date just because I mentioned your name, Alice.

Doctor Alice: And do you really love her?

Professor Utonium: Very much.

Doctor Alice: (pauses) I see. Well, you talk to her then.

Professor Utonium: How are the Girls, Alice?

Doctor Alice: (silence) Hmm? What? Oh. I think Bubbles and Buttercup are responding to me. Blossom's strong – she's suffering the least, but now I'm worried that's going to change after today. I don't have enough to go on, but I really hope Blossom isn't developing IED.

Professor Utonium: IED?

Doctor Alice: Intermittent Explosive Disorder. An anger problem. Don't be alarmed, Tom. Chances are, it could be acute and temporary. It could blow over when things calm down.

Professor Utonium: I hope so. Blossom's the smart one, the strong one. She'll be fine, right?

Doctor Alice: (Pause) Right. So now, we just need to focus on her anxiety.

Professor Utonium: What can I do to help?

Doctor Alice: The same as what you've been doing. Love her. Give her everything – a good family life, a home where she could feel safe. She's the city's guardian angel, but you're her guardian angel.

Professor Utonium: But that's not enough, isn't it? If it were, they wouldn't be this way…

Doctor Alice: That's the other thing we need to talk about. Bubbles and Buttercup. They might be responding to me, but every time they get out there, they're getting worse. I'm not sure if I can keep up, and the mind doesn't work that way – it's not a computer in which I can just install my treatments and uninstall their mental disorders. It'll add up, and if this goes on for too long, there will be a point of no return.

Professor Utonium: I know, and I have to watch them get worse every day, right before my eyes. That's why I'm working on something that could save them.

Doctor Alice: Is it something to do with Chemical X? It can't be repurposed into some kind of medical treatment for their mental disorders, can it?

Professor Utonium: No, but I can come pretty close to it. Let's call it Anti-X for easy reference. I have a pretty good idea on how to make it work. It'll nullify the Chemical X in their body and make them normal. Permanently, hopefully.

Doctor Alice: Taking them off-duty indefinitely, Thomas Lewis Upton, you're a genius! (pause) But… What about the USDO council?

Professor Utonium: I haven't floated the idea with them yet.

Doctor Alice: They won't like it. Most of them, I mean, even if the majority will vote against killing them. I'm with you in this, and so are some of them in the council but I think Director Cliff had made sure intentionally that the majority on the council is on his side.

Professor Utonium: I'll do whatever it takes to save my family, Alice. Whatever it takes. If they need something else to defend Townsville, I'll make them something else to do the job.

Doctor Alice: Something else? You're talking about another human being, Thomas. Since when did you get so cold?

Professor Utonium: I'll do anything for my Girls.

Doctor Alice: That's not who you are.

Professor Utonium: Yeah, and that's why Naga and Jojo's out there, hurting my kids. My creations, my weakness.

Doctor Alice: That's different.

Professor Utonium: I'm doing this.

Doctor Alice: I guess I can't stop you. But Upton – Thomas – don't forget who you are. You're a good man, and you shouldn't let anything change you. The Girls look up to you, Tom, and if you break and become something else, so will they.

Professor Utonium: I know…

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**


	14. Chapter 11: A Quiet Sunday

Reply to Guest: Indeed. We'll see what happens, though it's not confirmed if Blossom has IED - it'll take more than a session that's been cut short to diagnose it.

**Chapter 11: A Quiet Sunday**

**The City of Townsville. Uptown. Cathedral Basilica of The Most Pure.**

**5 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1017.**

"-And if you don your spiritual armor, you'll be able to stand against the forces of the Devil-" An old, venerated bishop preached on the pulpit of one of Townsville's grandest Catholic churches. His eyes would occasionally turn in the direction of this Sunday's most special guests: none other than what the citizens of Townsville had blasphemously taken to calling The Angels of Justice, and the apparent Adam and Eve who had spawned such… creatures. Said creatures were sitting near the front, a few pews removed from the first row, dressed finely in flowing dresses likely woven by Lilith herself, matching their infernal eyes. The parents – one of whom was in a sinfully sultry black flowing dress and another in a deceptively handsome suit - didn't seem to mind their otherworldly appearance.

The Catholic and Christian world had mixed views when it came to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. Some saw them as demons, as heralds of the apocalypse, the spawns of Satan himself. Others, still, believed them to be true angels, although either birthed from a human womb or created by human hands - the USDO had kept the world in the dark - were actually sent down by God in the same manner that Jesus was birthed through Mary. A small minority had more rational views. The Pope himself and the Vatican Council, however, were still hesitantly deliberating on the matter, far removed from Townsville. However, word had spread that they would soon be issuing an official statement within the next few days, all in the name of shepherding the flocks of God in one direction rather than seven or more.

In recent times, those who held the extreme belief that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were God's angels sent down from heaven were excommunicated from the Catholic Church. In Townsville itself, more than a thousand were thrown out by the Pope himself for foolishly making such blasphemous statements without his divinely-ordained approval. Unknown yet to the Girls, the priest Bubbles had saved in Morbucks Industries Research Labs had been an archbishop, and now one of those who had turned heretic and gone on to form a Catholic cult known as The New Trinity. Their membership was growing rapidly, drawing members from both the orthodoxy of Catholicism and the less religious of Townsville citizens.

Selicia Goodwin had made sure to carefully navigate the Catholic world she had left behind years ago to find the right church to put Buttercup - and her sisters - in. She had called the Catholic churches in advance to propose their visit to the church, and after eliminating a few churches that had taken offense to the idea, she'd narrowed it down and chosen the best out of those that remained. The Cathedral Basilica of The Most Pure was one such church which was willing to tolerate the Girls, with the majority of the attendees and priests there under the belief that they were God's gifts. It was, in truth, a slim majority, and they had made sure to avoid excommunication by making no official proclamations.

Blossom was listening intently to the bishop, taking in his every word, finding it all fascinating, and the bishop's claims of a spiritual world bizarre, but not unbelievable, considering what they had already seen and experienced. Bubbles thought the bishop's stories to be funny and interesting at times if a little boring during other times. Buttercup was barely staying awake, much to Selicia's chagrin. She had hoped that putting Buttercup in a church would 'tame the Devil in her' and, in more modern terms, keep her psychopathy in check by instilling some Catholic morals, backed by her love, into the troubled and wayward child. Professor Utonium was scribbling on his lecture pad, pretending to be taking notes about the bishop's whimsical and colorful presentation on the spiritual, but he was actually working on his calculations and chemical theory for Anti-X, which he thought was the true solution to the Buttercup problem.

All around them, people were secretly peeking at them. Some were less subtle and were outright staring or even glaring at them. It'd only subsided to an extent as the day wore on for the Girls. What did not subside was the huge berth the congregation had given the Girls. Those that believed them to be the Devil's work or the blasphemous production of humanity's hubris and arrogance had made sure to sit far away from them. The more tolerant had made no exceptions to their sitting arrangements. Only a few had chosen to welcome them and sit closer to them so as to not ostracize the new sheep to the flock. A kindly old woman, a middle-aged couple who looked like they came out of American Gothic and a few others.

The Catholic mass was one tiring ritual after the next, and they were really far from done. Next, they had to go through the Procession of Faith, which Buttercup, again, found to be meaningless, but Blossom and Bubbles found to have some meaning as they renounced their sins. Baskets were passed around after that, and Selicia had given each of the Girls a generous sum of money to donate, which they did, but it was a gesture none of them understood.

A few Catholic hymns later, the bishop announced that a special prayer was to be conducted before the usual: "May Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup come forward, before God and his humble speaker?" the bishop had requested. Blossom was stunned when she heard it. Bubbles was surprisingly excited at the prospect of participating more in the mass. Buttercup had to be woken up.

When the Girls were stuck to their seats, Professor Utonium decided to act, not out of religious conviction (as his was in the negatives) but to make sure that they didn't have to suffer another social disaster and the fallout from the resultant shame of it all. Taking Blossom and Bubbles by the hands, he led them down the long, red-carpeted aisle and towards the front. After wiping Buttercup's drool away, Selicia picked her up and followed behind the professor. In the meantime, the bishop, who was an old man in his seventies, descended from the pulpit to the front to receive them.

The congregation watched in morbid silence and even more interest than during a regular mass. The Girls stood before the railing separating Chancel from Crossing. They thought the bishop to appear formidable in his priestly garb and tall hat. He seemed serious and his venerable age, which had carved at his flesh as nature would a statue, gave him natural authority. He gazed down on the Girls as though they were unworthy, studying them as if looking for signs of the Devil's work.

The professor returned the bishop's look with interest, with silent derision and cynicism. Selicia, for once, was at peace as she looked up to the bishop. Buttercup decided to let herself float from her Mom's arms at this moment with a dim burst of green light, managing to extract a few gasps from the normally stoic congregation. She landed next to Blossom. The bishop watched the wayward of The Three with supposedly divine-approved judgment in his eyes.

"Spawns of Satan from the pits of hell or Angels of God from the very gate of heaven, I do not know what you three are - my continued prayers to God may yet yield some answers. But for the time being, I have faith that this is all part of a great plan - God has brought you before me either way. Spawns of Satan or Angels of God, I will recite a prayer with you, and if you're the latter, you will be blessed with the gift of your creator's wisdom and morality-" the bishop said eloquently, almost poetically. The professor had almost barked at the bishop for his insanity - after all, he was the man who had created his Girls, even if it was by accident. "Now, kneel down and put your hands together in prayer." He gestured before him.

The Girls did as they were told and knelt before the bishop. There were special pillows put down there just for them and their comfort, so that they would be raised to the right height, too. Putting their elbows on the railings, however, they did not know what to do with their hands. One after the other, the bishop put their palms together in sacred prayer. The bishop then instructed them to close their eyes and they did as they were instructed, though each of them did take a peek when they thought the bishop wasn't looking, expecting something, only to shut their eyes once more, disappointed.

"I am going to teach you a most simple prayer," the bishop declared. "Repeat after me, as you see with your mind the splendor of God: Dear Lord."

"Dear lord," the Girls repeated.

* * *

"They're going to be well-behaved little cherubs, I can feel it already," Selicia whispered to Professor Utonium as they watched from a fair distance away.

* * *

"I awake and see Your light," the bishop recited.

"I awake and see your light," the Girls repeated.

* * *

"I don't know," the professor replied with serious doubt in his heart, and rightfully so. "I think the key to their salvation's in science and parenting. Not… this."

* * *

"For You have kept me through the night," the bishop recited.

"For you have kept me through the night," the Girls repeated, amazingly without a pause or mistake.

* * *

"Oh, Thomas," Selicia said lovingly as she put an arm around him. "Have a little faith, and even then, it doesn't hurt to try."

* * *

"To You I lift my hands and pray," the bishop recited.

"To you I lift my hands and pray," the Girls repeated, still following, each with their own reasons to do so.

* * *

"We haven't tried everything yet," the professor said, careful not to offend Selicia at this critical moment.

* * *

"Keep me from sin throughout this day," the bishop recited.

"Keep me from sin throughout this day," the Girls repeated.

* * *

"So we've got to start somewhere," Selicia said playfully.

* * *

"And if I die before it's done," the bishop recited.

"And if I die before it's done," the Girls repeated.

* * *

"Still, don't you think it's a little…" the professor attempted to find the right word for what he was about to say. "out of place for the our Girls - the result of cutting-edge science ahead of its time by decades, if not centuries - to turn to religion - the result of humanity's superstition that started almost two thousand years ago?"

* * *

"Save me through Jesus Christ, Your Son," the bishop recited.

"Save me through jesus christ, your son," the Girls repeated.

* * *

"I get what you mean," Selicia said, mildly amused. "bioweapons' and 'enhanced individuals' and all that. Still, I think we both can agree that they're little girls. Our little girls, right?"

"Right," the professor said.

* * *

"Amen," the bishop recited.

"Amen," the Girls repeated.

* * *

"And this was how I was raised," Selicia recalled. "And despite everything - my parents and the streets and the USDO, I didn't turn into a complete mess. I was a partial mess, I know, but at least it wasn't complete."

* * *

"Open your eyes, children," the bishop said. The Girls obeyed. "repeat this prayer every morning, and the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit will lead you down a path of righteousness."

* * *

"Why not thank Aunt Martha for that?" the professor suggested. "Or your friends in school?"

* * *

"Thanks, mister," Blossom said to the bishop.

"Yeah, that was fun," Bubbles added.

"Mom's going to be glad we did this," Buttercup added too.

* * *

"Well, I'm thanking the church too," Selicia countered her other half in a good-natured manner.

"Don't thank me. Thank God," the bishop said to the Girls, not rudely. In fact, he'd even cracked a faint smile.

"You have me there," Professor Utonium said. "Still… This is completely different."

"Should we get the Girls baptized?" Selicia asked.

"Absolutely not," the professor rejected. Selicia smiled, and although she had every reason to be, wasn't offended.

"Will the parents of these fair children come forward and receive the blessings of our God in heaven?" the bishop asked for them.

"We'll speak later," Selicia said as she came up to the bishop. The bishop turned to look at the professor, wondering why he wasn't with his 'wife'. The professor raised his hand and gave the bishop a 'no' gesture as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were returning to him. Eyes were immediately set on the professor as if he had committed a grave crime or uttered a blasphemous remark most foul.

"Why aren't you meeting the priest, Dad?" Bubbles asked, somewhat elated. "It was nice when we did that prayer thing." The professor wasn't quite sure how to explain himself and make Bubbles understand at the same time. All he did was to scoop her up and carried her in his arms while he waited for Selicia to be done with her prayer.

The professor would later explain at home to the Girls that he didn't believe, and cautioned - behind Selicia's back - not to believe everything they were told. The only thing he mentioned in favor of Selicia's religious affiliation was that Catholic rituals and habits could bring comfort, hope, and contentment to some and that they were welcome to try them if it helped them.

However, before that, the Girls were given an audience with a priest at the confession booth. Blossom had gone in first. Thomas and Selicia had excused themselves as Blossom's sisters waited. There was still much to talk about, things that were swept aside when the professor had decided to take the family out to the mall to repair the damage the Morbucks had caused.

"We need to talk about Blossom, Selicia," Thomas said as they selected a pew that was isolated enough from the straggling members of the congregation.

"What about her?" Selicia said, trying her best not to sound defensive. Her eyes were on her dear Thomas', and it looked like he might not have noticed. "Is she okay?"

"You know about her meltdown yesterday, right?" the professor asked.

"Yeah, what was that about?" Selicia said, too well aware that she was ignorant of Blossom's state of mind. Too well aware that it would bite her in the ass.

"You tell me," Thomas returned the question to Selicia, though he was at his wit's end on how to execute this. Being a professor in multiple fields, he had no trouble navigating calculations and theories and huge oceans of knowledge. People were the greater mystery to him, though with social consequences being all too real, it could end up becoming trouble too. "Blossom mentioned you. Something about you saying that she 'can't let Buttercup get hurt'?"

"Thomas…" Selicia murmured her lover's name, sensing anger in him, and she was right on the money.

"I know you love Buttercup more than Blossom and Bubbles, Selicia," the professor said. It wasn't new information. It wasn't the first time they had talked about this, and the professor found the fact painful and hard to swallow. It felt like something he would have to deal with for the rest of his life - and he loved the Girls, all of them, and Selicia. "What did you say to Blossom, Selicia? What did you do to her?"

"Oh, Thomas…" Selicia murmured, making sure to exaggerate the pain and sadness in her voice. Instinctively, she wanted to escape this. The loving Thomas she knew had faded away, and someone else was in his place. He tended to get like this when he was truly angered - and the fastest way to enrage him was hurting his adopted daughters. The fact that he was holding back was miraculous enough. "I know it's wrong to play favorites - I swear I wasn't… You know what General Blackwater said…"

In the next instant, Selicia was able to string together a convincing narrative. It was a skill she had mastered a long time ago, back when she wasn't a teenager yet. It was all for a good cause, she thought - if she stayed in the family and remained on good terms with Thomas, she could do more good, even to Blossom and Bubbles.

"I was just afraid for Blossom…" Selicia lied. Her tears were half-real. "She's held responsible for everything - I just want her to succeed, and be a good sister to Buttercup. I'm sorry. I didn't think that…"

Thomas couldn't resist her convincing tears. Holding her, he gave her a hug, at once regretting his accusations and even wondering why he made them in the first place. After all, there were a lot of possibilities as to what had caused Blossom to blow up - and he now believed he had made the mistake of choosing the wrong one, the worst one that implicated his 'wife' and wife-to-be when he shouldn't have.

"I feel guilty every day knowing that- that- the Girls had to go out there every day," Selicia cried, and she was victorious.

"It's so difficult!" she sobbed. "I'm the one who had to train them and- and- knowing every second that I'm preparing them for something they shouldn't have to go through!" It was perfect - it was exactly what the professor would want to hear.

"I know… I'm sorry," Thomas said.

"And when Buttercup was shot…" she continued murmuring sadly, at the same time trying not to attract too much attention – the fewer people involved, the better. "I was really afraid and it really hurts and- and- I can't imagine how it'd be for Blossom…"

"I was just trying to teach her everything I know…" Selicia said, finally drying her tears – there was no more need for that. She had won. "So she won't make the same mistakes I did."

"You've always been looking out for my little babies," the Professor said, nodding, touched by Selicia's self-professed sacrifice and altruism, none the wiser that half or even most of it were lies selfishly told to cover her ass. "Thanks. I didn't realize how hard it's been for you, having to act like a villain for their own good. I can't imagine doing that with them. I'm sorry."

As Selicia hugged the professor, she smiled even as she was still tearing up - she had done it, and it seemed that a couple of months of conventional nuclear family life hadn't damaged her ability to plot and plan and deceive.

When it was Buttercup's turn in the confession booth, it didn't take long at all. There was a shout from the inside from a man and the door from the priest's side burst open. The younger member of the clergy responsible for the confessional sprinted away as if chased by the Devil himself, hysterically screaming incoherently all the way.

The bishop who was walking down the red carpet in the center of the cathedral stared disapprovingly as the frightened priest ran across the church and disappeared into a door leading into the Sacristy. "Paul, wait! What's the matter with you!?" the old bishop had asked aloud, confused when it happened. He then turned to Buttercup, who had just exited the booth, and she flashed a guilty smile back at him.

"What did you do, Buttercup?" Selicia asked as she and her 'husband' went up to her.

"Nothing! He asked for my deepest, darkest sins and thoughts, so I gave it to him," Buttercup said, though she made no mention of the fact that one of her deepest, darkest thought was the urge to break through the grilled window in the confessional booth and tear the priest apart. The colorful descriptions of her various massacres had been enough to put the priest on edge.

"Oh, my sweet pie," Selicia said, slightly exasperated but with a smile on her face. She then laughed.

Out in the corner, the bishop was frowning at them, fuming mad.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**5 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1543.**

Despite the little mishap at the church with Buttercup and the priest, the day had been great. They had gone to lunch after that, then shopping, mainly for larger-sized clothes and more toys in anticipation of the Girls growing bigger, and finally home. He liked it whenever the Girls were smiling and laughing innocently once more. It meant that he had done his job, and made them forget their worries at least for the day. As much as he hated to admit it, the time they spent at the Catholic church had done as much good in making them forget. It was the only thing that mattered.

As he was undoing his tie while on the way to his master bedroom, the phone – the regular one – rang. The professor picked it up.

"Hello?" he answered it dispassionately.

"Mister Utonium. Morbucks here," a deep male voice on the phone said. The professor hung it up immediately and walked away, but before he could retreat into his bedroom, the phone rang once more.

"Mister Utonium, please, you have to listen to me," the billionaire on the phone begged. The professor hung up on him again. He couldn't be bothered with the bastard who ruined his daughters' Friday. Neither did he want him to ruin his Sunday. There was only one way he would listen to the man – he'd have to be begging on all fours before he'd even be willing to listen. Selicia would call it 'grilling' or 'sweating' the suspect. Speaking of Selicia, she was waiting for him, no doubt in the shower with most of her clothes gone and her hair, which she had grown to shoulder length, flowing down her-

The phone rang again. The professor let it ring for ten seconds out of spite, then twenty, before picking it up with a near-sadistic smile on his face. He knew that Morbucks' time was worth more in financial terms than his, and he enjoyed the idea of pissing it down the drain.

"Professor Utonium, please!" Mister Morbucks was practically begging desperately on the other hand.

"What do you want, Morbucks?" the professor made sure to sound as insultingly bored and dispassionate as possible. "My Girls aren't available. How about you ring up the city circus for your next party? I'm sure they won't cost you and your cronies an estimated $54 million."

"It's my daughter, professor, please!" Mister Morbucks was nearly driven to tears.

"And since when is your daughter my responsibility?" Professor Utonium said coldly. "I'm sure a rich man like you could find her some other friends, am I right? Just toss some money in the direction of the city and stop bothering me!"

"You're a doctor too, aren't you?" the businessman said. "You can't leave my daughter to die like this!"

"Isn't that being a little melodramatic?" the professor barked into the phone – oh, how some people would say anything to get their way!

"It's not! My precious Elodie- She- ever since that day, she wouldn't eat… she wouldn't sleep… She- she wouldn't stop crying," if Mister Morbucks wasn't grilled enough then, he was now. He was practically weeping and barely able to string a sentence together. "I had to call in the family doctor to sedate her and put her on an IV drip but- he- he warned that with Elodie's health already unstable as it is, she- she might even have a relapse like this! She needs the Girls! They're the only people who could save her!"

What Mister Morbucks said had given the professor pause. But on remembering what he did to the Girls, he could only do one thing.

"I'll think about it," the professor said without meaning it, making sure to pump as much venom into his voice as he could. "I'll get back to you in three business days - is that how a big shot CEO like you talk?"

"Don't you dare hang up on me!" Mister Morbucks screamed into the phone when he realized what the professor was about to do. "Please, help my daughter! Help her! PLEEEEASE!"

"JUST LIKE HOW YOU HELPED THEM!?" The professor screamed madly into the phone and hung up. And when the phone wouldn't stop ringing, he unplugged it and knocked the phone off its pedestal, and when the ringing wouldn't stop in the other parts of the house, he started unplugging every regular phone in The House too. He'd even expected the USDO hotline to start buzzing, but it didn't.

All was quiet once more. As a Sunday should be.


	15. Chapter 12: The Rotten Core of the City

**Chapter 12: The Rotten Core of the City**

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**6 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1107.**

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The clown phone rang, the first time in ages, but this time, it didn't ring in the Girls' room. This time, it'd issued its call to arms in the Girls' classroom in Pokey Oaks Kindergarten. The rude and loud buzzing had interrupted the silence, just as the little kids in the class were about to slip into their sleeping bags for a nap. It was tiring for the little ones, having to learn words related to camping and the wild and apply mathematics to hypothetical camping situations.

"Girls, the phone!" Miss Keane called out to the Girls as she was helping a girl out of her jacket when the zip was stuck. Buttercup growled in displeasure at having to miss nap time, but then smiled when she realized it meant punching time. Bubbles gave a helpless sigh while she was halfway into her sleeping bag, before sliding out again. Blossom stared at the phone with determination. Despite her limited experience, she knew that things were changing. Had this been weeks ago, it would be another week or two before another call was issued from the phone.

She flew to the clown phone, then picked it up. "Hello?" she greeted whoever it was on the other end.

"Hey Blossom," the voice on the other end sounded familiar. It had been a long time since she last heard it. Weeks, since it was as if he had disappeared from the face of the Earth.

"Mister Blake!" Blossom yelled into the phone in surprise, quite loudly that the whole class could hear it. Bubbles and Buttercup flew up next to her.

"Woah there, cowgirl!" Agent Blake said with a pained voice from Blossom screaming into his ear, but he could only be glad that it wasn't Bubbles. "It's nice to speak to you again."

"How have you been, Mister Blake?" Blossom asked lovingly, all the while tolerating her sisters' noisy insistence in the background that they be given a chance to speak to their USDO agent friend.

"I've had worse," Agent Blake admitted. "Listen, we need you at an operation soon. Can you Girls make it down to 55 Rhody Street in the tenements in… 20 minutes?"

Blossom searched her mind for the address; she had memorized the entire map of Townsville down to the streets. Miss Keane and her Mom and Dad had helped narrow down what she should remember, making it easier for her. She closed her eyes, and in her mind, she saw herself flying across Townsville at the speed of light, searching for Rhody Street. Her sisters' pleas had all but disappeared as she traveled through the speeding highways of her neurons until…

"Yes, we can," Blossom said confidently, with a determined look on her face. "And we'll be there in half that time, too."

It was then that her sisters' ceaseless demands and jumping got to her. Caving into them, she held the phone out to them.

"Hi, Mister Blake! We missed you!" Bubbles and Buttercup yelled into the phone in unison, fighting for a dominant position over the handheld speaker and receiver.

"Yeah… Haha… I miss the both of you too," Mister Blake replied, and even Bubbles could hear it, but it was loud and clear to Buttercup because of her secret ability to hear incredibly well. Blossom repossessed the phone before her sisters could break it. "So, see you there. Listen, I really want to stay on the phone and chat, but I gotta run. See you Girls in 20, okay?"

"Bye!" Blossom bade farewell over the phone before turning to her sisters. "Let's go, Girls! We have a city to defend and Mister Blake to meet!"

After seeking permission from Miss Keane, the Girls flew out of the room as their fellow students watching them fly away with their trails of light in their wake. They had to enter another room to get changed for law enforcement.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. 55 Rhody Street.**

**6 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1121**

It didn't matter that it was tiring. It didn't matter that they were draining the precious Chemical X in their blood - it wasn't as if they would need all of it in a fight anyway. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were finally going to see Mister Blake and friends, after weeks of being away. When they had finally arrived at the exact address they were given, Blossom had practically flown into the arms of the man, with Bubbles and Buttercup hugging his arms, and they had done it in full view of his men, other USDO personnel and the TPD officers and SWAT cops they were working with. And Agent Blake hugged her back, as he had missed the kids too.

"You can let go now, Blossom," Agent Blake finally said after enough time had passed. He could see that everyone on the scene was looking at him, some smiling while others were shaking their heads in disapproval. "It's nice, but you're heavy. Have you been gaining weight?"

"No, the number on the weighing machine hasn't changed," Blossom said as she let go. "It's just the stuff I'm wearing." As usual, the Girls were decked out in their tactical uniform and combat gear, but with the usual personal touch - stubborn as always, the only concession they had made were the MP5s that only Buttercup seemed to love. Huge guns had ceased to become a necessity with Blossom and Bubbles due to their unique X-abilities.

"Hmm. I guess that's nothing," Agent Blake muttered. Reaching for his aviator sunglasses, he removed them to take a better look at the Girls - it wasn't too sunny a day, what with the winter still stubbornly clinging onto the country, so his shades weren't necessary. As if sensing his intention, the Girls floated up before him. "Look at the three of you, all confident and happy. How's Townsville been treating you? Things have gotten better, right?"

Bubbles couldn't quite agree. Despite knowing the facts, that there was less crime, especially major crime, to fight, just by being out there was enough to put her on edge. To her, something was always about to happen, something evil, just as it always did.

"Yeah! Everyone likes us now!" Blossom said, knowing full well she was exaggerating, but she didn't care. Here was Mister Blake and she was going to impress him as much as she could. As if the police officers in the background had heard her, they turned to stare at her with some of the coldest and accusatory looks she had ever seen. There were always some she couldn't please, some who would never forgive nor forget. "It's really great!"

"Where have you been anyway all these weeks?" Buttercup asked roughly, her arms crossed.

"Yeah, we really missed you," Bubbles added, before floating up to Mister Blake and hugging his arm.

"I'm sorry I had to go away - patrol duties, doing my bit to suppress crime and help the cops," the agent explained. He thought that it was pretty coincidental how the Girls could miss him all this time while he and the Girls were both out, patrolling Townsville, but then again, there were no coincidences - command probably put them on different paths. He'd been watching the outer reaches of the city while the Girls were resuscitating the dying heart of the city and doing a good job at it. "But at least business has brought us together again."

"What are we doing today, Mister Blake?" Blossom asked as she landed and walked beside her security friend, taking his hand. They came up to an opened manhole in the middle of the street, which was blocked off by yellow police lines, barriers, and vehicles. Police officers and USDO soldiers swarmed the area.

"I believe I can answer that," a male voice said. Blossom turned to look. It was Detective Mullens, with his right hand and daughter, Detective Olivia. On his left hand was the talking dog, Stanley Talker, whose tongue was sticking out and lolling about as he walked. Blossom smiled. So did her sisters. "Hey Girls. Another day, another batch of bottom feeders in cages, am I right?"

"Detective Mullens," Agent Blake greeted.

"One of those men you caught at the factory talked, kids," the detective said. "There's a whole drug network all over town. Some of them are underground, down in the sewers. We're busting one of them. We'll get them to spill and add more years to the Amoeba Boys' prison sentence."

"The sewers?" Blossom said in disbelief. She went up to the manhole, intimidated not by the darkness underground as they had their eye-lanterns trick for that, but by the smell. Bubbles, too, took a sniff and immediately backed away, pinching her nose. With her, it seemed that the darkness wasn't her only concern.

"Ew!" she cried as she waved away the smell.

"Oh, yuck!" Buttercup shouted, affected as well.

"I'm sorry, Girls," Detective Mullens said. "But that's how low some criminals will stoop but we'll have to stop them all the same."

"Just raccept the srell as part of nature and you should re fine," Stanley Talker finally spoke. "Ry nose's sharrer - stronger - rut I rhave no trourle with re srell…"

"But… H-how are we going to do this?" Blossom asked, still staring into the gaping black hole leading down to the city's underbelly.

"We have a map of the sewers. I'll guide you through the radio," Agent Blake explained. "The drug runners are holed up in a central junction area. They operate only at night, so they are undermanned during the day. They won't be expecting us since all our units are a fair distance away from the central junction."

Blossom could barely even understand half of what he's talking about, but she knew enough - Agent Blake would guide her, the bad guys, few in numbers, would be taken by surprise.

"Are we doing it now? Can we, can we!?" Buttercup squealed with excitement at the prospect of another high-profile operation. In her mind, she couldn't wait to find another opportunity to dismember a human being for kicks.

"Mmmm…" Bubbles mewled in fear as she clasped her sweaty hands. She really didn't want to go down there, where it stunk to high heaven and was far too dark - anything or anyone could be lurking down there, and Bubbles' imagination was rife with all sorts of things to fill in the blanks. Sensing her intense fear, Stanley Talker returned to her and rubbed himself against her body. Bubbles ran her hand along his fur.

Blossom noticed, and she remembered what Psychiatrist Alice had said.

"We'll go together, Bubbles," Blossom said gently and held her hand. "Just stay close to me - you don't have to go alone this time, but I need you to fight when you need to."

"Okay…" Bubbles agreed, even if she didn't want to go. She didn't want to disappoint everyone, now that they were here: Blake, Mullens, her sisters. Daddy. Mommy, who she didn't want to make angry. Buttercup couldn't help but laugh at her sister's weakness, as it made her feel powerful.

"You're sticking close to me too, Buttercup," Blossom turned to her and ordered as they stood at the edge of the manhole.

"But I don't need to stay close to you!" Buttercup objected.

"You got hurt the last time you were alone," Blossom reasoned, even if it was likely something that would fall on deaf ears. She really didn't want Mom to come down on her once more - she could still remember, with crystal clarity, Mom's threat. She really didn't want to find out how much pain a stun baton could cause on maximum setting.

"Fine…" Buttercup reluctantly agreed, and only did so because it allowed the possibility that her sisters might take the bullet for her the next time.

"Are you Girls ready?" Agent Blake asked.

"No…" Bubbles mewled, still petrified by the great unknown just underneath the city's streets. How could anyone tolerate such a smell? What could even produce such a smell? Were there monsters in there that made the smell? She would have asked the adults what was going on with the smell had she the time and space for it.

"Of course!" Blossom and Buttercup chorused together, for once, as the both of them wanted to make a positive impression with Mister Blake when they'd finally had time with him.

"We'll be right behind you," Detective Mullens said. "I just need the three of you to clear the way, but if there's any real trouble, just give the word."

"Yeah, and re'll come running!" Stanley Talker declared.

"Thanks, Mister Mullens. Thanks, Mister Stanley," Bubbles said gratefully. The talking dog started licking her hand again, and Bubbles caressed the dog in the snout.

"No problem. We got your back. Right, Blake?" Mullens said.

"Right," Agent Blake agreed.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Under 55 Rhody Street.**

**6 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1130**

The Girls floated through the manhole and into the sewers after sucking in one final mouthful of clean, fresh air. The moment they did, they made a circle and their eyes began shining brightly like lanterns. The sewage tunnel had immediately split into a T-junction, giving the impression of a maze right from the beginning. They waited for Mullens, Olivia, Blake, and Talker to descend using the ladder after informing them by radio that it was safe to go down. They'd done so quickly, wary that spending too much time in the sewer could lead to their surprise raid being discovered. Even the talking dog was quick on the way down - due to his intelligence, he was able to learn how to use a ladder.

All around the area's sewer central junction, police officers and USDO soldiers were doing the same thing, encircling their drug dealer targets, closing in the trap.

"Ew… Ew… Ew…" Bubbles squeaked constantly as they flew at a slow and steady pace in the sewers, stopping at every split or junction.

"What's down here that could smell so bad?" Blossom questioned over the radio.

"Yeah, who would walk here if it's so smelly?" Buttercup added. At the very least, it had distracted her from her bloodlust, not that she wanted it, and neither did Blossom and Bubbles know just how deeply compromised Buttercup's mind was.

"Well…" Agent Blake's voice trailed off on the radio as he was unsure if he should tell them the truth. "I'm not sure if the three of you should know."

"My Daddy said that knowing things is always good," Blossom paraphrased her Dad innocently.

"Do you know where the water goes when you flush the toilet?" Detective Mullens said over the radio.

"No…" the Girls replied on the radio, too innocent to even guess what was coming next.

"Dad, I don't think we should-" Olivia cut in on the radio, only to be cut out.

"They should know it now rather than find out later when it isn't convenient, Olive," Detective Mullens. "Girls, whatever you flush down the toilet ends up here."

The Girls stopped where they were, more sensitive than ever about their positioning in mid-air, about the air they took in, their very being in the sewers.

"EWWWW!" The Girls exclaimed in disgust.

"And I was standing in the water, too!" Buttercup said, unimpressed by how late she was informed about the underground 'river'.

"Good thing your boots are waterproof then," Agent Blake remarked. "Take all the time you need, Girls. We'll continue with the operation as soon as you're ready to go on."

"I'd rather just keep going," Blossom said over the radio. The faster she got out of the sewer, the better.

"I agree with you for once," Buttercup admitted, though what she said had done just as much to remind Blossom that she could go rogue at any moment and end up snapping someone's neck.

Bubbles was silent. All she could do was concentrate very hard on trying not to freak out. The smell was one thing, but the darkness was bringing out the worst in her. She could feel her heart thumping faster than it would have while she was running after a sports car – and she could attest to that too, as they were called upon to chase a hit-and-run case a week ago. Memories were flashing before her eyes; actual pain and lethargy erupted throughout her body.

"Bubbles? Are you okay?" Blossom asked and Bubbles had only heard it the second time. She'd even missed her sister's hand on her back. Buttercup glared at her from the front, definitely not appreciating her slowing down the advance. Her angry, sociopathic eyes shone clearly in the dark, contrasted by Blossom's concerned eyes, pink with care.

"I… I'm fine," Bubbles replied, tried to be as brave as she could. Doctor Alice's advice came back at just the right time, but with the weekends so far behind them in time and space, the only thing it had made her do was to wish that Alice was beside her again.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Under 23 Edgar Street.**

**6 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1137.**

"Oh yeah… Yes… Finally…" a haggard-looking man in an even more haggard-looking army jacket mumbled to himself as he was sitting on a crate, tying a tourniquet around his arm. "If only I know His secret, I'd make my own Secret… Now, this is the good stuff…"

When he was done, he pulled something out of his jacket. A metal syringe with 'His Secret' written on the side, in white markers. Slapping his elbow to gain a vein, he pierced his skin with the thirsty tip of the syringe and it bit him like the proboscis of a giant mosquito. Pushing the plunger, he emptied the content of the syringe into his blood and gasped with stimulation and a rush of pleasure. Visions clouded his eyes, visions of ecstasy and paradise and success.

"Don't get too used to it, druggie," another man scolded condescendingly, his voice much clearer than the first. "You're not getting your next needle until you complete tonight's shipment."

The drug addict did not seem to have heard his apparent supervisor but continued to lie back on the crates he had been hauling and protecting, in a state of pure pleasure and relaxation, his mind filled with stolen but false victories and rewards.

"I know," the haggard-looking man finally said. He'd barely heard. The sensations he was feeling at the time was far more important than reality. Than even his next payment in drugs.

"Where's Hilda anyway? She's taking way too long to piss even for a woman," another drug dealer guarding the crates in the middle of sewers said. "I fucking swear, if it weren't for her sweet bod, I would've dumped her sorry ass."

"She took a hit like ten minutes ago," yet another drug dealer said - he was clearly the boss with his necklace and cigar and clean coat and AK-47. "Probably passed out somewhere out there next to her piss - and everyone else's. Should be fine - inspection's two hours away and the next shipment's fuckin' after dinner."

The drug dealers' comments had attracted raucous laughter from the rest of the criminals. There were about the ten of them in all, mainly drug dealers and their hired muscle. There were movers - most of whom were addicted to His Secret and were working for the dealers only for their next dose of His Secret.

The drug lord was more right than he would have wanted to be. Moments later, Blossom had flown up to the missing drug addict while she was squatting by a river of city sewage and knocked her unconscious with a simple chop to the back of the head. But what Blossom couldn't intercept was the drug addict's terrified scream.

Men and women with guns shot up from their makeshift seats, cocking their weapons. Most of the movers, too, started either picking up anything that could be used as clubs or pulling out their modest weapons: knives and blackjacks, shivs and batons.

They didn't have long to decide between fight or flight when three streaks of light were drawn in the dark tunnel and what appeared to be three little girls floating in mid-air appeared before them.

No words were exchanged between them. The drug lord and his immediate inferiors raised their weapons. The drug runners and hired muscles who were the furthest away didn't even think of fighting and scattered. Some of the menial laborers started taking off. Some of them started ripping open the crates and greedily taking handfuls of His Secret syringes before scattering as bullets started flying – they knew how it was going to end. There was only one way it could go.

Blossom zipped foot-first like a bullet into the drug lord who could only get a few shots in. One of the drug lord's right hand pointed a pistol at Buttercup, but she was able to push it aside faster than he could pull the trigger. She gave the gunman a right hook, knocking him out instantly. The drug runner next to her was able to fire off a burst of rounds from his machine-pistol, however, not that it did anything - Buttercup gave him a spinning kick, knocking the machine pistol away, before pounding him with a simple straight punch. Bubbles tackled another drug runner at high speed – discarding skill in favor of painless expediency.

There was no resistance after that, much to Buttercup's disappointment. The splashing of sewage water attracted their attention to the various tunnels around the junction.

"They're getting away!" Buttercup shouted, pointing at the main group of runaways. But there were a few who were smart enough to split from the main group and go down different tunnels. Blossom looked from the main group to the individual mavericks, for the moment paralyzed by indecision. Mom and Alice's words were burned into her mind, frozen in place like boulders blocking the way to the right decision, impossible to dislodge.

"Bubbles, with me!" she finally made a compromise as the voice of the running criminals and their footsteps grew ever fainter. "Buttercup, go after the rest of them, any of them!"

It was the only way. Bubbles would be less fearful in her company and Buttercup was less likely to be injured by the loners she must pursue. Blossom could only trust that Buttercup remained faithful to her, and avoid hurting her feelings by killing.

Blossom flew after the main retreating group deeper into the sewers, and the foul water there were noticeably higher. Bubbles took a deep gulp before speeding after her sister.

Flying into the tunnels, following the frightened panting and voices of the criminals, it didn't take long for Blossom to land her fists on one, causing him to fall face-first into the filthy muck. As he was getting up, gasping for air and horrified that he literally had piss and crap in his face, Blossom took him by the collar and smashed him against the subterranean masonry, hard enough to knock his lights out.

Bubbles wanted to do similar, except her target had turned around and fired shots at her. The bullets bounced off her arms as she covered her face before she threw a punch at her attacker, all the while with Alice and her desensitization exercises in mind. The woman was dashed against the wall, even as Bubbles felt her heart racing and her arm throbbing in harmless, but barely-bearable pain. But she was still moving. Picking her up by the hair, Bubbles slammed her head against the wall, mimicking her leader sister.

There were still four of them. Two of them were oddly stationary, prying open corroded metal bars in the dirty water. The other two had foolishly continued running straight down the tunnel.

"Bubbles, go for the men on the ground!" Blossom ordered quickly before shooting straight for the foolish runners, thinking that the stationary men were easy targets that Bubbles could handle.

But the stationary men were quick. After pulling off the iron bars blocking their escape route, the men slid down the tight chute leading deeper into the sewers, and by the time Bubbles had darted up to the opening, the second man was already gone. Shining her eye-light into the opening, she could see the men sliding down - sewage water was rushing down the opening, and soon there was a splash and the second runner was knee-deep in stomach-turning foul water.

Although Bubbles was smaller and thus had no problem fitting through the chute, she would still have to basically bathe in the sewage, and the smell was worse down there, and she didn't like the idea of being alone below in the dark either. The timid one froze, unable to act, unable to think.

Blossom, in the meantime, had made short work of one of her runners with a quick kick to the back and a tap on the base of the skull. The other was knocked unconscious by a point-blank non-lethal blast of her heat beam, which caused the man to collapse, vomit everything he had in his stomach and fall unconscious.

The leader of The Three smiled, thinking that the operation was clean and executed flawlessly, but when she turned around, it faded when she saw Bubbles leaning against the sewage tunnel wall - and there were no subdued criminal anywhere near her. Shock and alarm reverberated through her being when she realized that her sweet sister might have let some criminals go.

"Bubbles! What did you do!?" Blossom questioned as she flew up to her most vulnerable sister.

"I can't… I just can't…" Bubbles mewled sadly, knowing very well what she had done. But she just couldn't - goosebumps were already rising just by her stepping in the water, and Agent Blake was right; her boots were waterproof. "It's really dirty and smelly and dark down there and…"

"You can't just let the bad guys go!" Blossom scolded, more out of urgency than anger, before promptly sliding down the sewage chute Bubbles refused to take. However, by the time Blossom was down in the lower levels of the city sewers, the men were gone, and there were even more tunnels going in all directions. Focusing her eyes, she tried to look through the walls of the sewage tunnels, but she couldn't see very far with all the concrete, metal and tightly-packed soil in the way. The criminals were long gone; fear had given them wings, apparently.

When there was nothing left to be done, Blossom had to fly back up through the sewage chute, getting dirty. She emerged out of the hole quite suddenly, and Bubbles jumped when she did it with a splash of filthy water and questionable muck.

"That was very disappointing, Bubbles!" Blossom expressed immediately and had to consciously stop herself from growling and going all out on her sister. Bubbles could only stare at her boots, head lowered and back hunched in shame.

"But I was scared!" Bubbles exclaimed.

"Being scared is one thing!" Blossom couldn't help but chide her, no matter how much she wanted to hold back. No matter what Alice said. "I don't like getting wet down here too! Urgh! Now, look at what you made me do! And for nothing, too!"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Under 23 Edgar Street.**

**6 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1141.**

Buttercup had caught up with her latest victim easily enough, catching her before she could throw herself down a slope in the tunnels. She pinned the hired muscle to the floor, and when she produced a pistol and let off a shot right in her face, snatched it away and crumpled the gun up like paper before tossing it away. Taking the mercenary's gun hand, Buttercup slammed it against the wall, breaking many of the bones in it, causing the woman to scream.

"Please- I surrender- Don't kill me!" the hired muscle pleaded with Buttercup, who straddled her chest and had a hand on her throat.

Buttercup threw a look over her shoulder to see if Blossom or Bubbles were approaching. They weren't. In fact, she could hear them now, and Blossom was busy lecturing Bubbles. Bubbles was doing what she did best - crying like the little wimp she was when she couldn't do even the most basic things in combat.

They wouldn't be stopping her anytime soon.

Looking back at the unscrupulous mercenary she had cornered, she began walloping her in the face - going with her left fist, then the right, then the left, rinse and repeat, making sure not to strike the woman too hard as it'd end the fun too quickly. At some point, one of the bad woman's eye had popped out with bloody tears going all around, and she'd broken her nose as well as sending teeth flying in the usual, predictable fashion. One thing that was quite new, however, was when Buttercup had struck the woman in the mouth the wrong way, and buried the poor woman's teeth inside her own jaw.

Buttercup giggled at her new discovery - and thought to herself that she should do it more often.

"Pleeeeeeease…" the woman continued to beg, somehow defying the odds and still living.

Buttercup did not listen. She was enjoying it too much. Instead, when she began to hate the way the mercenary was looking at her, with her one functioning eye and even with the eye that had popped partially out of its socket, she drove her thumbs into them and squeezed with her hands on the woman's head.

Blood pooled in the sockets before they flowed out like eruptions of water geysers. Then Buttercup had other ideas as the woman screamed weakly, nearly dead.

Pressing her hands against the woman's head, she exerted all her strength into it and before she knew it, the woman's head was crushed like a fruit. It sounded like it too. Blood like juice came out as the woman's skull was shattered. Brain matter spurted out from openings in the woman's scalp and various orifices old and new when the pressure became too much.

Buttercup looked behind her once more. Nothing. No little beads of glowing pink and blue. Her stupid sisters were still at it. She could hear them right then.

"-I'm sorry-" Bubbles was sobbing like the baby girl she was.

"-those criminals will continue to hurt others and it's going to be your fault and I promised Alice I'd keep you close to me and yet-" Blossom had continued her tirade regardless, obviously upset and disappointed.

Buttercup didn't care, but she'd had her fun. Removing her hands from what remained of her victim's head - which was now little more than pulp, she started collecting more teeth for her secret teeth jar before scraping up the mess she had made and throwing them into the sewage water.

It was time to put her toys away. Standing up, she braced herself against the dead body she had made and pulled an arm off before stuffing it into a small inlet. She did the same with the other limbs, shoving them into other similar hiding places. The torso was more of a challenge, however.

"-don't know how I am going to sleep tonight and honestly, how do you even sleep at night after everything you've done wrong? Do you even care? Because it seems that you don't, and it's not just this time-" Blossom went on in her lecture while Bubbles went on being her crybaby self, completely distracted from what Buttercup was doing out of sight, out of mind.

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles continued her pathetic whimpers.

With the torso, Buttercup had resorted to flying further into the tunnels in search of a larger secret place to hide her misdeed. As luck would have it, she'd found an opening leading into another tunnel large enough for the torso.

The footsteps and barking of K-9 unit dogs prompted her to act quickly, hurling the torso so far into the adjacent tunnel that it disappeared into the dark, and the foul water did the rest, taking the evidence of her murder to some far away place.

Flashlights shone on her just as she was done, and she shouted her identity at the cops so that they wouldn't be an inconvenience.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Under 23 Edgar Street.**

**6 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1145.**

By the time Detective Mullens, Olivia, Agent Blake, and Stanley Walker had gotten to the secret drug junction, the Girls had already cleaned up the place real good. The drug dealers and their muscles responsible for the area's drug distribution were scattered, which Detective Mullens thought would cripple the drug trade in the Tenement Area, as other drug dealers would no doubt hear about how their 'peers' had disappeared from work.

The Girls had missed a spot though. A haggard-looking man with hippy hair and facial hair, wearing a more haggard-looking army jacket sat up, still halfway through the pleasurable parts of his stupor. On noticing who he was looking at, he clumsily pulled a revolver out of his jeans pocket.

"Ri got this!" the talking dog launched forward at a blinding speed before jumping the haggard drug addict, biting his gun hand and forcing him to release his weapon before dragging the drug addict to the ground, who screamed as if he was living his last seconds.

When the slow-thinking mover was subdued, Stanley Talker withdrew himself and kicked away the revolver the addict had dropped on the ground with his front paw. The talking dog growled at the druggie to warn him.

"Prrrf! Rrrr… You taste disgusting!" Talker insulted the man, who stared at the talking dog wide-eyed, wondering if he was still hallucinating. The dog spat some saliva out, some of which fell on the man. "Rorrff!"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Under 23 Edgar Street.**

**6 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1155.**

When Detective Mullens and his task force had gotten to Blossom and Bubbles, Blossom had long switched gears and moved on to console her meek sister, feeling a little guilty about lecturing her continuously and making her cry.

"I'm sorry, Bubbles, for the things I've said. I just wanted to protect our new friends, that's all," Blossom would say as she hugged her sister closely

"I wanted you to be happy like before, Bubbles, when you've made some new friends by saving them," Blossom would add.

"You can't keep going like this and I just want you to change for the better," she would then say, but none of her half-hearted apologies and rationalizations had made Bubbles felt better. If anything, it'd made things worse. It'd made Bubbles wish she was never one of the so-called Three, The Angels of Justice. It'd made her wish there was an easy way out.

"Did any of them get out?" Detective Mullens would ask when everyone was gathered around the drugs they had seized. Bubbles had paid no attention to the meeting when it commenced as she didn't want to be reminded her of her failure again. Blossom nudged at her with her elbow, thinking that Bubbles should do her due diligence and report her shortcomings honestly.

"There were two of them…" Bubbles mumbled softly.

"What? Could you speak up, Bubbles? My old ears just got worse recently," Detective Mullens said.

"She said there rere two rof rhem," Stanley Talker repeated Bubbles' statement - he'd heard her loud and clear, owing to his superior sense of hearing compared to the average human being. The dog was concerned about Bubbles again, about how upset she was. Padding up to her, he began licking her hand once more, even though it was filthy.

"Will you be able to track them, Talker?" Agent Blake asked. Stanley, for some reason, turned to the agent aggressively and growled.

"Yes, but Ri'm rot doing rit for you," Stanley said aggressively, suddenly hostile. Blake knew the reason why the talking dog had gotten all bitey and teethy. He hated anyone to do with the USDO, owing to his experience.

"We're not all like that, you know," Agent Blake tried to reassure the dog.

"Ronly rafter Ri eat you!" the talking dog growled at Agent Blake. Bubbles took him by the neck.

"Mister Stanley, don't," Bubbles said, more upset that her friends were now fighting among themselves. The dog backed off on her word and whimpered when he realized he had contributed to his new friend's misery. He returned to licking Bubbles and rubbing his snout on her after that, taking in her scent.

"I'll follow Talker and bring a couple of guys with me," Olivia volunteered. Her father reluctantly agreed. "I'll be fine with our good ol' canine friend here."

"Ri'm rot that rold - ronly two years rold," Stanley corrected.

"Haha, alright," Olivia laughed as she stood up to pat the talking dog.

"Any other missing drugsters?" Detective Mullens opened the floor to the rest of them.

"Nope," Buttercup answered confidently, lying as always, though this time, it wasn't a straight lie. After mutilating her victim and getting identified by the cops, she had taken great pains to speed through the sewers to nap a few more criminals to cover her tracks. She couldn't take all of them down though.

"Just a few more," Blossom added, and couldn't help but look at Buttercup suspiciously. "They were running everywhere."

"My boys should be rounding them up even as we speak," Detective Mullens said. "Good job, Girls."

"I'll inform General Blackwater the three of you are taking the rest of the day off. It wouldn't do for the three of you to patrol the skies looking and smelling like this," Agent Blake said. "It's not healthy, not that I've ever heard of the three of you getting sick, and it's not something you'd want."


	16. Chapter 13: The Purple Man (Part 1)

Reply to Guest: Surprisingly, no one except for the criminals and members of the Foundation will like the idea of lobotomizing Buttercup because of her severe psychopathy. It goes without saying that the professor and Selicia loves her, and her sisters, too, though their relationship is strained. The USDO, whether the faction on the Girls' side or not, wouldn't want to see Buttercup lobotomized because they either care about her or sees her as a powerful asset. Even members of the TPD or the public who dislike her would have reservations about that as... Lobotomy was abandoned by the 1970s, so yeah. Furthermore, even some criminals and Foundation members will be opposed to the idea for their own nefarious reasons.

**Chapter 13: The Purple Man (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 0802.**

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The clown phone rang during the most convenient of times - just when the Girls were about to leave for school. Blossom flew over to the USDO hotline and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" Blossom answered the phone. "Is that you, Mister Blake?"

"Yes, Blossy," Agent Blake said over the phone. "Looks like we'll be seeing each other more often. This one's much more serious…"

"What is it? Is it Naga? Or… Mojo Jojo?" Blossom guessed, and couldn't help but to develop a lump on her throat. Naga had been hard enough to deal with - it was only with the help of her friends, Mom and Dad and her infrared beams that she was able to force Naga to run back out into the snow and leave Buttercup alone. Mojo Jojo was worse - the Chimpanzee had sliced them up with laser the moment they saw him, and they couldn't even get close to him. Furthermore, the crazy monkey had nearly killed Bubbles - twice!

"What about the Gangreen Gang?" Buttercup suggested when she flew up next to Blossom and guessed what the phone call was about.

"Please don't let it be another attack on the Morbucks Labs…" Bubbles hoped as she floated anemically towards her sisters. Agent Blake had heard everything as the other Girls were pressing themselves up really close to the phone that Blossom had to physically push them away.

"It's none of them, Girls," Agent Blake said. "He remains unidentified. But this isn't the first time we're pursuing him. Remember the Purple Man Case?"

The Purple Man Case. Blossom remembered it clearly, clearer than she could remember yesterday's sewer drug raid. It had been right on the threshold of 1988, mere days before the new year.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts, North. Exxon Gas Station.**

**28 DEC (Tuesday) 1988. 2135.**

"This is Sergeant Blake. Be careful, Girls. We don't know what we're up against," the Girls' favorite USDO agent warned on the radio. The man himself was taking cover behind the Girls' Lamborghini speed transport along with several of his men. "Get in there carefully. We still have the New Year to celebrate."

"Are we going to watch the fireworks together?" Blossom asked over the radio. Several men laughed lightheartedly. Despite being pulled away from her police friends, Detective Mullens and his daughter, Olivia, while they were showing them the heart matryoshka spotlight on the TPD police headquarters no less, Blossom felt at home with these guys.

"That would be fun," Bubbles agreed on the radio.

"Fireworks… sounds like a blast," Buttercup agreed too - it was one of the few things she would agree with her sisters.

"Sure, if your father lets us," Agent Blake answered quickly so that Blossom could concentrate on the task at hand. "How about we finish this first so we can talk about the New Year sooner?"

"Yes, Mister Blake," all three sisters concurred simultaneously.

"Convoy-1, flank around the right of the gas station and provide support there," Blake continued to relay orders. "Convoy-3, flank to the left and provide support there."

The Girls flew into cover behind a gas pump. Blossom had her Serbu shotgun out, though it would be one of the last days she would be using it – by the New Year, it would be left in the walk-in closet indefinitely. She was peeking out from the right of the pump while Bubbles peeked out from the left with her stockless XM4 Carbine. Buttercup was perched on top of the gas pump with her machinegun at the ready.

"Girls! Get away from that pump immediately! It's explosive!" Blake shouted over the radio. Blossom, terrified, practically flew to a nearby car. Bubbles and Buttercup followed.

"Convoy-1 in position, over," one of Blake's men reported.

"Convoy-3 is in position, over," another of Blake's men reported.

"We're going in," Blossom said as she adjusted her helmet. Sprinting up to the gas station's store rapidly, she hid behind a concrete wall next to the glass wall by the cashier counter. Once she saw that the coast was clear, she jumped through the glass and then on top of the cashier counter. Her sisters followed.

The sight within the store was terrible to behold. The darkness and flickering light within did not serve to hide the mess so much as made it worse to look at. The Exxon cashier was torn in half and left on the floor with his guts lying in a bloody heap. His partner, a store attendant, was ripped apart limb from limb. One of her arms, which still had bright pink painted nails, had been thrown into a shelf full of candy bars. The rest of her limbs were nowhere to be found.

There was a security guard in that heap of body, and the only thing that indicated his occupation was the tattered remains of his uniform and the revolver still held in a dead man's grasp. His face had been ripped apart, his body a broken wreck. There were customers in the gas station store when whatever force of nature that had utterly devastated the place struck, but they were little more than a carpet of flesh and bones and viscera on the floor, one mass hardly distinguishable from the next.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, too, were retching. It was like nothing they had ever seen before, not even after everything they had been through. It was even worse than Buttercup's handiwork, and the tomboy was actually inspired as much as physically disgusted by it.

"Hey, Girls, Blake here. Anything inside?" their friend said over the radio. He was running up to the store, switching from cover to cover with his second-in-command and Corporal Rutherland.

The Girls were going down the store, each of them taking an aisle, looking for survivors or enemies or both. There were just more dead bodies. None of them dared to speak a word for fear of alerting something. The store's redecoration with human body parts wasn't exactly fun and sunshine for them.

"Everyone's… dead, Mister Blake," Blossom said, was tearing up when she saw that a girl, not even ten, was one of the casualties – all mangled up and left to rot on the floor, alone. "It's bad."

She was just emerging out of her aisle when she heard something kicking up a can of paint close to her, in the direction of the freezers. Panicking, Blossom turned in the direction of the freezers and fired a quick pair of heat beams, blowing up a glass door and creating a cascade of fizzy drinks – and nearly hitting Buttercup.

"Hey, watch it!" Buttercup yelled, but Blossom did not hear: in her panic and lack of forethought, she'd fired her heat beam through her goggles, burning the edges of her helmet as well. The accident with her power had resulted in a lot of glass, plastic and Kevlar goop in her face, and she was furiously trying to wipe the hot mess away as she tried to run away, only to knock into shelves and send food and merchandises crashing down in her flight. Bubbles from another aisle had to fly up to the ceiling to see what had happened.

"Blossom!" she screamed in shock and immediately ditched her rifle and flew down to tend to her beloved sister.

"Blossom's hurt!" Bubbles screeched into the radio in her high-pitched voice, hurting the ears of everyone involved.

"All units, converge on the store!" Agent Blake ordered in the radio, and as Bubbles had sat a panicking Blossom down on the ground and was helping to wipe the melted goop in her face away, every door in the store was busted open, and USDO soldiers began a search-and-destroy protocol. Buttercup flew up to her sisters, shaking her head at how pathetic they were.

But there were no hostiles to be found. Whoever had massacred the Townsville citizens here was long gone.

By the time Blake had found Blossom, most of the hot stuff on her face was cleared up, but it took her some time to calm down from the terrifying and painful ordeal of having molten glass, plastic, and Kevlar in her face even though she wasn't injured. It was from that night onwards that Blossom had stopped wearing her helmet and combat goggles. Her sisters would follow her example not long after.

And all they had found for their trouble was a wisp of purple fur on the scene of the crime and some security video recording of what had happened. The Girls, of course, were spared the content of the video.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 0803.**

"He's back?" Blossom said into the clown phone. The trail had gone cold over a month ago – the perpetrator of the massacre at the gas station had disappeared into the woods of Pokey Oaks county. The Purple Man had been a subject of speculation and horror stories among her and her sisters since. She'd even have a nightmare about it once, running away from the purple-furred creature while there was more molten goop in her face than she remembered.

"Yes. And we need your help with taking him down," Agent Blake said. "It's different this time. We might need to stay the night in the woods since it's going to be a manhunt. You'll need your forest gear, and bring along everything you got – we don't know what we dealing with. You remember where that gas station is?"

"Yes, Mister Blake," Blossom said. She'd visited that gas station one other time, a few weeks ago, to purge the demon she had gained that frightful night. It was actually helpful and therapeutic for her to see the same gas station up and running again, as though nothing horrific had happened, but at the same time disturbing. "I know where it is."

"I'll see you in 30 minutes?" Mister Blake said and went on when he detected something in Blossom's voice: "It'll be fine. Time flies, and it'll be over before we know it."

It reminded Blossom of the promise he made and the watch he gave her.

"Promise, Mister Blake?" she asked, smiling, audibly in a better mood.

"It's a promise," Blake said on the other end.

"Thanks," she said. "See you soon." She hung up the phone.

"What was that about?" Daddy asked, his smile disappearing. He knew what it was alright: it was his Girls going out there to lose more of their innocence again. He had to work harder to make it stop!

"Mister Blake said that we're going to find the Purple Man, Dad," Blossom said.

"Oh no…" Bubbles mewled. She'd seen the results of the Purple Man's mayhem in the gas station. It wasn't pleasant.

"Finally! I want to see how much tougher I am compared to him!" Buttercup exclaimed, ever the good sport.

"I'll call the school and tell Miss Keane – um, how long would that take? Half the class?" the Dad asked.

"Mister Blake said we might need to spend the night in the woods, Dad," Blossom said, a confusing cloud of emotions running through her – more than what she was capable of processing. She had experienced it before, but it was only recently that she had realized it – that she could feel so many things at once… and she didn't want to. "I've never been in the woods, Dad. I'm… um… I don't know how to say it." She was scared. Curious. Happy to see Blake and happy to discover a forest. And she was terrified of the Purple Man.

"T-the woods?" Bubbles exclaimed in fear, but she'd tried to find the bright side of the thicket: "Will there be a fairy godmother there too? Or- or- dwarves and princesses?"

"Pfff! We're going jungle-fighting!" Buttercup scoffed at Bubbles before giving her own idea a boost. "That's all we'll ever need!"

"You mean that's all you ever need, Buttercup!" Bubbles countered.

"What's the matter? Are you scared, Bobblehead?" Buttercup taunted.

"You're being mean!" Bubbles cried.

"Bubbles, Buttercup, quit it!" Blossom ordered. Buttercup pouted at her while Bubbles looked at Blossom, feeling maligned. "We need to get changed now!"

"Oh, Girls… A whole night at the woods!" Professor Utonium gasped. Blossom flew into his arms for a hug.

"I'll miss you, Dad," Blossom said. "I'll think of you every second I'm there."

Bubbles and Buttercup hugged their Dad as well, echoing similar sentiments. Buttercup then moved on to Mom, and Bubbles did the same. Blossom, however, kept her distance from her.

"Aren't you going to give Mommy a hug, Blossom?" Selicia beckoned for the smartest of The Three to come to her, with arms outstretched. Reluctantly, Blossom floated into her arms, but when Selicia enclosed her arms around her, she couldn't help but feel trapped. Like a fly in a spider's web.

"Remember what Mommy said or you're going to get it from me," Selicia whispered into Blossom's ear, so softly that no one else heard except for Buttercup, who smiled at Blossom's plight behind her leader's back. She then said aloud to Blossom, for the entire family to hear: "No pressure, okay? Mommy's proud of you. All of you."

Despite the bad taste in her mouth, Blossom had no choice but to move on. Flying back up to her room, she began changing into her uniform alongside her sisters. They had to get into some special uniforms this time, ones that were largely splotches of white and grey all over, with only small strips of their favorite colors remaining. The tactical gear they wore were a shade of white, rather than black, this time. Largely because of their enhanced dexterity, they were able to get suited up at speeds that even full-fledged marines could never match.

This time, they had to bring out their survival backpack, which had only been issued to them late in January, as well as put on their winter ghillie suits, something they had never used until now. The Girls, except Blossom, had to bring their heaviest weapons and similarly sheathe them in winter camouflage. Selicia had trained them for this, and though they had never put the skills into use until now, they remembered it all well enough due to their enhanced memory.

They flew out of the circular windows of their room after that, but before they sped away into the horizon, turned to wave goodbye to Dad and Mom, who had gotten out into the lawn to wave them goodbye, exchanging tears and a final look before they headed off.

"I must work on my Anti-X faster," Professor Utonium said to Selicia when the Girls finally disappeared into the vast horizon. The moment the Girls were gone, it'd felt like he was had slipped from his rope while abseiling down a building. And he had done such a thing before in his youth, and in his Organization basic training. It'd felt as though it was the last time he would see them, every time.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts, north. Exxon Gas Station.**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 0828.**

The morning air was cold and the wind chill was worse as the Girls sped through Townsville to get to Agent Blake. They did not have their jackets on, but despite this, they felt warm enough as their ghillie suits had a thick layer of fake vegetation on them.

The journey there was silent. Only the sound of the wind howling, their ghillie suits fluttering and their flight-pack glider wings flapping could be heard. Bubbles could not believe how things were unraveling right before her eyes - it seemed like a distant memory when things were quiet and peaceful for her. Then the factory happened. And then the party was ruined. The sewers destroyed her after that, and now… It was the forest's turn to swallow her whole.

Blossom would have agreed with Bubbles if they had actually spoken to each other on the journey, but she was in deep concentration as she led her sisters towards the outskirts of Townsville. Things were beginning to go wrong, and she could feel the pressure of having to perform crushing her. Her failures were mounting once more, as it used to do so before the new year. Buttercup was injured at the factory. She had been tricked into unwittingly performing for a party at Morbucks'. She had allowed Bubbles to let a few criminals run free in the sewers, and now… It was the forest's turn to swallow her whole.

Buttercup, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. Things were finally going her way - it had been boring for the past month or so, and Blossom was to blame for all of it! It felt as if the last few days had been more fun than the entire month of January put together. At the factory, she got to hurt a lot of people and finally kill one too, in the most deliciously brutal fashion possible. The party served to whet her appetite for the next big one when she took apart a woman in the sewers and now… The Purple Man was her next target, and she believed that she'd finally have a proper fight on her hands, considering what she saw at the gas station out of town.

"There, the gas station! We've finally made it!" Blossom said to her sisters, breaking the silence and contemplation among them when the Exxon sign that rose to break the horizon became visible. As they got closer, it became easily apparent that she was right - the Girls' old speed transports were there, along with several humvees and APCs. This time, it was a fully USDO operation, and the only TPD presence on site was a single police cruiser. As the Girls descended, they were each dismayed in their own way that they wouldn't be seeing Detective Mullens, Olivia and Talker this time, as the people who got out of the police cruiser were a pair of uniformed patrol officers.

They could recognize Agent Blake and his posse from afar. They just had to aim for the guy with the aviator shades and greying crown, who just so happened to be pointing at them and smiling. This time, however, he was dressed in winter camo uniform, along with the rest of his men.

"Good morning, Mister Blake," the Girls greeted him in unison, their troubles temporarily forgotten.

"Hey munchkins," Blake greeted them back, before gesturing for them to follow him. "I have something to show you three."

"What is it, Mister Blake?" Blossom asked.

"Are we really going to find the Purple Man?" Bubbles asked out of fear. At this point, she was hoping that all of this was just a set-up for a prank, that the Princess would just jump out of one of the humvees and give her a hug.

"Are you going to give me some marshmallows?" Buttercup asked – she'd been secretly craving for those sweet treats since Saturday.

"No marshmallows, I'm afraid," Agent Blake led them to his USDO Lamborghini, and what was put on the hood answered their questions for the agent.

There were photos on the hood. Agent Blake swept the snow that had fallen on the collection of Polaroids with his hand and pulled them closer to the edge of his car. The Girls gave themselves a boost by floating up to see them.

Grisly scenes were depicted on the photos, and the quality wasn't very clear as they were stills from security footage taken by security cameras. The content, however, was clear enough, despite the faint coloration: it was the Purple Man.

And he was very purple. And big. And angry. And terrifying. The Purple Man's eyes were like silver orbs on camera, inhuman and soulless, and whatever facial expression that wasn't masked by his fur was one of intense rage and hatred. He was wearing nothing but a pair of patched and old denim pants, which gave the impression of simple and brutal barbarism. He was in the process of tearing someone's arm off. Blossom recognized who the victim was: the store attendant at the very same gas station she was standing outside right then, the very same person whose limbs, except for a mangled arm, were nowhere to be found.

The picture alone was enough to cow Bubbles. Her hands had gone up to her mouth as she stifled a scream. Blossom forced herself to study the monster in the pictures despite a similar fear enclosing around her heart – how sharp his claws were, the innumerable fangs he had. How thick like tree trunks his arms were. How a barrel wouldn't even begin to describe his chest. He was frightening to her, sure, but as with Naga, there had to be a way to beat even a fearsome person like the Purple Man.

The Purple Man had even given Buttercup pause. She knew that for all her powers and enhanced abilities, she had no claws and teeth and a big body like the Purple Man. Despite being rarely expressed, her imagination wasn't sterile - and for a second, she believed, truly believed, that she was going to be ripped and torn apart in the forest like how she tore apart her latest victims on Friday and Monday. But, after sucking up a lungful of fresh air, she told herself that she was the one who was going to do the ripping and tearing.

"Don't be afraid of it," Agent Blake reassured the Girls. None of them felt any better. "It has an obvious weakness. Can one of you tell me what it is?"

"Urm…" Blossom's mind was jammed by the question - and it was rare that she couldn't come up with something - anything.

"Uh-uh…" Bubbles shook her head and gave up right from the start.

Buttercup's arms were folded as she was floating in midair. An idea - or half of it - presented itself in her mind only to fade away while she was halfway from putting up her hand, at which point she retracted it.

"Simple. Look at its fur. Do you know what color it is?" Agent Blake hinted at his answer.

"Is he pink?" Bubbles answered. "Isn't he?"

"It's purple," Blossom corrected.

"Duh, that's why we call him the Purple Man," Buttercup added, meant as a jibe at Bubbles, and the latter girl had detected it all too well. Bubbles gave Buttercup a death stare before returning her attention to Agent Blake.

"Yes, it's purple. It's not going to be able to hide very well in a snowy forest," Agent Blake said. "We, on the other hand, will look like the forest. It'll never know what hit 'em."

Bubbles wanted to believe him, but she could never bring herself to. Blossom thought Blake's tactical assessment to be reasonable. Buttercup thought he was cool, and that was enough.

"One more things the three of you should know before we head out," Agent Blake continued. "We aren't the first ones in. Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur and a squad of twenty men had entered the woods three hours ago. They never reported back. That is why we're going in. We'll have to try to find them as well as this… Purple Man."


	17. Chapter 14: The Purple Man (Part 2)

**Chapter 14: The Purple Man (Part 2)**

**Pokey Oaks County. Pokey Oaks Woodland Reserve**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1115.**

Just when the Girls thought that law enforcement in the City of Townsville was hard work, they quickly learned that they hadn't seen hard work yet… until now. Searching the woods for a fugitive was backbreaking labor, and words could never do it justice.

In a forest, the Girls soon found out that their ability to fly at high speeds was useless among the trunks and canopy of the woods, not just because they would likely bump into hard wood or get caught up in the snow-locked and endless sponge-like canopy whenever they tried to zoom through the forest, but also because they had to search every little crack and crevice for some guy with purple fur, or any sign of the lost tac team of Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur. Not to mention, it was painful whenever the branches and leaves brush past their faces if they even so much as fly at any appreciable speed.

The woods were deep - many times wider in area than the City of Townsville itself, and much harder to traverse even with flight. For almost three hours, the Girls had been scouting ahead for Agent Blake and his forty or so USDO soldiers, but they had turned up nothing - and they were only scratching the surface of the ocean of trees.

But as much as it was tiring, it was also the first time the Girls had truly been in a forest, not counting the last time when they were driven through one as they were taken to a USDO outpost. Every sight, every sound, every feeling, thoughts and emotions they experienced in the forest was new, and it was the only thing keeping them from collapsing in a heap of misery and exhaustion. Blossom enjoyed finding the many different kinds of plants and animals in the forest, while Bubbles enjoyed the scenic sights most of all, such as the mountains and the valleys, all filled with trees and life. But most of all, she was always hoping to bump into a fairy godmother, or a dwarf, or an elf, or some other fairy tale creature. Buttercup had read stories and seen illustrations of soldiers in the woods, and she thought it was cool to live through the experience.

* * *

**Pokey Oaks County. Pokey Oaks Woodland Reserve**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1229.**

After venturing ever deeper into the woods, the Girls had still turned up nothing – not even a shred of cloth, not even a spatter of blood or scattered expended rounds. Despite flying slowly at not even a quarter their maximum velocity, they grew tired. Maintaining a constant state of alertness and fear and thrill and apprehension had worn out the Girls. Despite having fought no one in the past four hours, it was no different from fighting through a grueling battle.

When their stomachs rumbled for the umpteenth time, groaning for food one too many instances, it was the last straw. They radioed Agent Blake vehemently for lunch.

It was because of them that the USDO presence they were scouting for had set up camp. Otherwise, they would have done it only a couple hours later. While the Girls had rations packed into their backpack, they were never trained for survival and Agent Blake had to teach them how to start a fire and warm their meals over it… With varying degrees of success.

Somehow, the Girls were able to find joy in their miserable and freezing conditions, huddling around their campfire as they cooked their bland combat rations in their little mess tins. It was like going camping - or at least as far as they knew from their Daddy's descriptions.

"I hope we find the Purple Man soon…" Blossom remarked as she watched her meal sizzle in boiling water over the fire. "I don't want to spend the night here."

"Yeah, I sure hope we find him," Buttercup barged into the conversation. "Because I'm going to bust his teeth in for putting us through this!" Even Buttercup has had enough of the forest and this 'soldiering' business.

Bubbles was staring into the fire, mesmerized by the dancing blades of the flame. It was the only thing in the forest that was of any joy to her - her interest in the forest was worn out by the constant terror she felt, knowing that the Purple Man could be somewhere out there, that he could spring at them from any direction, from anywhere. As long as there was a hole or a ridge or a tree, he could be there. The fire reminded her of The House's fireplace in the living room, how she used to sit beside it even before she could speak. It'd made her wish she was home, with Dad and Mom.

"Bubbles? You okay there, buddy?" Agent Blake nudged her gently.

"Wha-? I'm… fine," Bubbles lied - she didn't want to be the weak one. The man handed her her tin of rations and she took it. She stared at it with not a single trace of appetite for the content of her mess tin. The thinly-sauced macaroni and shriveled strips of chicken were a far cry from what her Dad could do in the kitchen. "I wish I'm home…"

There were so many things she could wish for. She wished that everything in the past few days had never happened. She wished that she had stayed at Princess' party instead of surrendering herself to her Mom's whims – the utterly depressing look that the Princess had put on when they left the party prematurely had been haunting her since that day. She wished that she was a normal little girl. Not that that was ever going to happen - so the most she could wish for was Blossom's awareness and wits, and Buttercup's bravery and tenacity, just so that she could survive in this harsh world she was born in.

Agent Blake knew that something was not right with Bubbles, but he knew he shouldn't dig any deeper and risk wounding her emotionally or destroy his rapport with her. Getting up, he stroked her hair lovingly before walking away to check on one of the squads he was commanding.

* * *

**Pokey Oaks County. Pokey Oaks Woodland Reserve**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1514.**

It had started snowing again, and the fog had come up all around the Girls as they continued their search for the Purple Man, led by a Blossom who was fueled by anger towards the creature who had killed everyone at the gas station that day.

When they did finally find some signs of Captain Wilbur's whereabouts, it wasn't hard to make out. After going very deep into the woods and up to a small hill, Blossom had spotted a most grisly sight downrange using her eyes' zooming ability. She'd almost puked on the spot as a result.

There were heads, about six of them, some still wearing tactical helmets and night vision goggles, stuck on makeshift wooden pikes in the middle of a small clearing. Some still had gullets and windpipes still attached, and those were wrapped around the pikes holding up the heads as if the whole thing was some sickening art exhibit.

The bodies the heads were taken from were a whole other thing altogether. As soon as Blossom knew to expect dead bodies, she could see them as clearly as the Purple Man she was supposed to find out there. They were all nailed onto the trees surrounding the head pikes, some in spread-eagled positions, others like Jesus Christ on the cross, with arms above the head. One of them was nailed in a kneeling or begging position.

Bubbles and Buttercup did not have Blossom's acute vision, and so it took them a little longer to understand what they were seeing, and when they did, after flying close to the head pikes and straining their eyes, Bubbles gasped in shock while Buttercup couldn't help but curl a corner of her lips in a sadistic smile.

"Mister Blake, I think we found them," Blossom muttered into her radio mic, still fighting to keep what remained of her lunch down. She then turned to her sisters. "Come on, Girls! I think he's close!"

Reluctantly, Blossom flew towards the pikes at close to her maximum speed, partly to warm herself up and stretch, as she had been floating at a snail's pace since the lunch break. Even more reluctantly, Bubbles followed. Buttercup went up to the dead bodies without even a hint of hesitation.

"Affirmative. All units, maintain high alert. Papa-Mike could be close, I repeat, Papa-Mike could be close," Agent Blake immediately ordered over the radio, before addressing the Girls once more: "Stay where you are. We'll catch up with you."

* * *

**Pokey Oaks County. Pokey Oaks Woodland Reserve**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1528.**

"W-why would he do something like this, Mister Blake?" Bubbles stuttered her question. Despite being sickened and repulsed by the necrotic artwork, she couldn't take her eyes off of it at all. "These poor men…"

"I don't understand," Blossom said, trying her best to distract herself with the puzzle at hand. A huge part of her, however, still insisted on being terrified. "Does the Purple Man want to be found? I thought he was hiding from us?"

Buttercup was silent as she continued to study the heads on the wooden pikes and the bodies surrounding her in a semi-circle, in the process of being taken down by their still-living comrades. It was giving her ideas, and at the same time telling her that the Purple Man was someone to be feared and even respected.

"Both," Agent Blake explained. "It's a warning. He wants us to stay away, and he wants us to know what will happen if we don't. But he's hiding out there alright – this is what a man does when he's outnumbered. I've seen this happen before."

"What do we do?" Blossom asked.

"We'll have to keep going. Our people could still be alive and out there. The Purple Man is still out there," Agent Blake said.

"But what if he attacks us?" Bubbles asked fearfully.

"That's the idea, dummy!" Buttercup chided – she really hated Bubbles, especially when she talked.

"Back off, Buttercup," Agent Blake warned Buttercup gently, who did as he asked promptly while pouting. As much as he adored her, he was beginning to detest the way she had been ill-treating the sweetest of The Three. "It's not that simple. We'll stick closer to one another. Don't stray too far ahead, and keep your radios close."

And they truly didn't have to stray that far to find more 'signposts' pointing the other way – the way out of the forest. Not even a half hour further in, the Girls, who continued to scout ahead, had found a few more wooden stakes. This time, there weren't heads mounted on them. No, it was worse: entire men were impaled on them like slaughtered pigs destined to be spit-roasted. There were four of them, all of them still in uniform and gear but with their ghillie suits missing. One of them was even held in a pose by a rickety frame constructed using branches and old rope, pointing the way back from whence they came.

They were all dead. Some of them before they were impaled, as evidenced by clouds of shotgun pellet wounds to the head or chest. Two of them died shortly after. At least, that was what Agent Blake could determine after examining the wounds once he'd caught up with the Girls – not that he'd shared the details with them. He didn't want them to panic.

They kept moving forward despite the warning signs, some of which were quite literal, others, not so.

Then they heard yelling. And screaming. And crying. And the voice sounded somewhat familiar, but different. It wasn't a voice the Girls would associate with yelling. Or screaming. Or even crying. It was once a gentle voice, now made broken and hoarse.

The Girls flew faster towards the desperate cries for help. Pine trees that were still full of leaves but covered in snow blocked the view. The Girls pushed through, pushing aside leaves and stinging branches, starting snow cascades on the trees until they saw it.

There was a huge tree in a large clearing, surrounded by equally isolated but smaller trees. On all of them were hung dead USDO soldiers, with most of whom swinging on the thick branches of the center tree like twisted Christmas ornaments.

The voice had come from the center tree. Someone was still alive. The Girls zipped towards him, only to discover that it was Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur. And he'd been crucified on the tree. Frozen blood streaked his face, which was contorted by pain. His spectacles were missing, cracked and broken at the foot of the tree.

"Help me! Please!" the USDO officer cried, in a way the Girls had never seen a grown man do so before, not even with the others they'd seen who had died so horribly. "Girls! Please! I'm dying out here! Pull them out! Please! Pull them out!"

Though the Girls were inexperienced, it didn't take a lot of imagination on their part to know what he was referring to. The spikes holding him up were huge and ugly, protruding far out of Boomer's wrists and ankles. Bubbles looked down at his feet: stakes were driven right through his boots – whoever had done it didn't need to make the crucifixion easier by removing hard articles of apparels. In fact, Boomer's uniform was left completely intact save for his winter ghillie suit. Unknown to the Girls' innocent minds, it was a way to delay his death and lengthen his torture by crucifixion. It was a way for him to function as intended…

"It's going to hurt," Blossom cautioned Boomer after she had inspected the stake going through his right wrist, at the same time wincing at the sight of it after she had peeled back his torn glove.

"It hurts so bad! it's killing me! Please!" James screamed. "Just pull it out! Please! It hurts so much! Oh, God!"

Blossom floated backward to take a better look at the captain. He had been nailed in a spread-eagled position on the tree, with his feet apart. Panic was welling up in her because of Boomer's pained screams and delirious babbling – she wanted it to end and quickly, both for her own sake and his.

"Bubbles, help him with his left hand," Blossom ordered. "Buttercup, hold him up!"

The very sight of a stake driven through someone's wrist, however, was making her feel faint. With shaking hands, she took hold of the stake but did not dare to even exert an ounce of strength into it. Meanwhile, Blossom bit her lips before gritting her teeth as she pulled the ugly, jagged stake out in one yanking motion. The Boomer gave a shout when it was out. He could feel his wound throbbing, hurting worse.

Blossom held the stake in her hand, studying it. It felt heavy, and after wiping the frozen blood off of it, discovered it to be metal. It was like a tube, hollow but sort of crushed as if a used plastic straw. It didn't happen immediately, but it dawned on Blossom that it was the barrel of a gun, reshaped for use as a stake. She gasped; whoever had done this was strong enough, like her, to rip apart steel… or shape it like putty.

Bubbles hadn't done a thing in the meantime, except becoming pale and sickly. She'd seen what Blossom had done, and if Boomer hadn't screamed yet, he'd done it – all this had brought back painful memories. People screaming as they were shot – on both sides. Gore and blood and Buttercup sustaining a Duranium bullet wound and she had to pull the bullet out-

"Bubbles!" Blossom scolded when she realized she'd frozen up on her. "Mister Wilbur's in pain! What are you doing!?"

Bubbles turned to look at her, and it was as if she had seen a ghost. She was shaking as though artillery shells were dropping all around them. Alice's words were all but drowned out by the explosions of bad memories.

"Argh, fine! Buttercup, help me with his left hand," Blossom ordered, with no uncertain frustration and exasperation in her voice. "Bubbles, you hold Mister Wilbur up!"

Wordlessly, Bubbles drifted over to Boomer, but she looked so anemic and weak that it'd given Blossom doubts about whether she should even trust her at all. When Bubbles took Boomer by the neck, it'd spelled doom for Blossom's confidence in her.

"Not his neck, Bubbles!" Blossom barked at her sister. In her mind, Bubbles was acting up again, and thus not pulling her weight when she and Buttercup had to fight the same fears. Alice's words had little effect as she couldn't fully understand the implications of what she said. "Boost him by the chest – put your hands under his armpits!"

Despite having to fight the chaos in her, Bubbles was able to follow Blossom's instructions. Buttercup proceeded to yank another metal spike out before she and Blossom both got to work on Boomer's ankles.

Bubbles and Boomer's eyes met, and they both understood each other. In the limited time they had met and worked together in January, he had already known that Bubbles was the meek but sweet one. The sensitive one. He had been called similar things in his youth and even all the way to his adulthood. He knew that Bubbles had always been hurting inside because that was how it was for him. Now, he was hurting physically – badly. Bubbles hugged Boomer tightly as she held her up. He cried and sobbed like a baby as she did, the dignity and leadership of an elite USDO commander all but lost, bled away from his wrists and ankles by hours of crucifixion.

"Shh… It's okay," Bubbles found herself cooing at him, which she found surprising as she had always been at the receiving end of it. It'd only made Boomer cry even harder at the relief of human touch. "It's going to be okay." She leaned her head on his chest as she carried him. It'd quiet him down somewhat, even as the spikes were removed from his ankles.

"Bubbles, you can let him down now," Blossom ordered, and Bubbles lowered the still-shivering Boomer to the ground. Putting her backpack down, Bubbles went to work in trying to provide first-aid. Ever since she had shown some promise as a medic during the battle at Morbucks Industries Research Labs when she was able to follow instructions over the radio to patch Buttercup up, she had been designated the medic of The Three unofficially - by whoever was in the position to care: Selicia, Blake and Mullens. Selicia had trained her in basic first-aid and the latter two had provided her with tips from time to time. She had even gone on a first-aid crash course in the USDO Headquarters. She'd thought of it as 'playing doctor', and found it fun.

But now it was serious business, and she knew it. Pulling a medical kit out of her backpack, she slipped on a pair of rubber gloves - specially manufactured for her tiny hands, all the while trying to push the bad memories out of her mind. It was a near-impossible obstacle. Her hands were still shaking.

"He's- he's here- he's coming-" Boomer mumbled deliriously as he was lying on the ground, feeling relief as if it was the first time since forever.

"Who's coming?" Blossom asked, and when Boomer did not answer, pressed him further: "Who, Mister Wilbur? Is it the Purple Man?"

Boomer did not answer. He had passed out from exhaustion or relief or both. However, the sound of footsteps in the snow, of movement in the shadows had answered her question for him. But they weren't the only footsteps in the vicinity. There were more heading their way, but the fog had obscured the Girls' sight. As Bubbles sanitized her gloves and proceeded to dab a patch of cotton wool in medical antiseptics, their radios came alive, making them jump.

"Agent Blake here. We're coming to you. I think we'll reach you soon," the USDO operative said. Buttercup could hear his naked voice not too far away, and she turned to look in its direction. Blossom turned to look in the same direction, wondering what she was expecting.

Soon, silhouettes appeared in the fog. There was one at first, then three. The figures emerged out of the fog. It was Agent Blake and his men. Soon there were five, then seven and finally ten.

"We found Boomer, Mister Blake," Blossom told the USDO operative. "He's hurt really badly!"

"Let me see," Agent Blake said. As Bubbles had begun to remove articles of clothing surrounding Boomer's wounds, he knelt down beside her. Putting a pair of fingers on Boomer's neck, he'd checked for a pulse and detected a faint one. "Slow pulse, but alive. Good."

"Someone was here, Mister Blake," Buttercup informed Blake. She continued to watch the fog, near-paranoid that someone - something was about to burst through it, running up to them with claws and fangs huge and deadly and thirsting for blood. "We heard him sneaking around just now. He sounded really big and angry, and he ran away really quickly too, away from us. But he was laughing to himself, so I don't know if he's scared of us."

Blossom found Buttercup's level of detail in her report strange - the clarity of it impossible from what she had just heard - all she had heard were some leaves rustling, snow falling, and footsteps in the snow, and she considered her own hearing to be good. She could neither figure out the direction of the footsteps, the size, and demeanor of the mystery man, nor how quickly he had run away. She certainly couldn't hear any laughter.

"How did you hear all that, Buttercup?" she questioned her sister, feeling suspicious about her. If she could hear so well, shouldn't Daddy know about it? The last time he had tested their senses had been all the way back in the middle of January, and none of them had 'extraordinary' hearing, according to their Dad. In fact, the professor had even commented that Buttercup's sense of hearing seemed to be worse than hers and Bubbles'.

'Oh no!' Buttercup thought when she realized she had accidentally let slip her secret ability to hear incredibly well. "I… just happened to be listening really hard, I guess," Buttercup lied, but it wasn't lowering Blossom's eyebrow nor causing her to remove her hands from her hips - she knew the mannerism. It meant that her 'glorious' leader sister wasn't in a fair mood, either cross or suspicious of her or both. She'd seen it too many times.

"Fine," Blossom simply remarked, but the way she was still pinning her eyes on her implied non-complete trust.

"He ran away?" Agent Blake said as he thought about what Buttercup had reported to him. "Why would he?" At first, he believed that the sight of the Girls might have caused the Purple Man to withdraw, as their use of flight had likely given away the fact that they were enhanced by a Chemical like him. The laughter, however… 'Oh shit,' Agent Blake thought as he'd realized what was going on. He reached for his radio.

"Bravo, Charlie, Delta! Watch your six! Papa-Mike coming your way!" Agent Blake warned his soldiers over the radio. "Acknowledge, over."

There was dreadful silence after that. It wasn't encouraging. As Bubbles continued to work on Boomer, Blossom and Buttercup had stood facing outwards, their MP5 and Stoner Light Machinegun at the ready.

"Bravo reporting in. No confirmed sighting of Papa-Mike, over," one of the team leaders sounded out on the radio. Blake had expected it – Bravo was right behind them and wouldn't have been a viable target.

Another moment of silence.

"Delta reporting in. Papa-Mike is nowhere near us, over," another of the team leaders said on the radio.

Then there was silence again. Several seconds too many, in fact. Agent Blake ran through the possible scenarios: upon receiving the heads-up, his soldiers would dig in and defend a position. They would watch out for the Purple Man, then report on the radio their status. It could take some time if the team leader was cautious – that could be it. It had to be it.

But the sound of gunshots and screams in the distance said otherwise.


	18. Chapter 15: The Purple Man (Part 3)

Reply to Guest: I'm torn between giving this a T rating and an M rating too. Way I see it, since I have nearly no sexual content, and when there is, it's minor descriptions and fade-to-black, I'll keep it at T. Morality lessons touching on dark subjects, let's face it, has been around since Grimm. As for the level of violence, could have been worse. Or is it just me? I've been trying to keep a rein on it and I haven't portrayed the worst stuff I can think of...

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**Chapter 15: The Purple Man (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks County. Pokey Oaks Woodland Reserve**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1607.**

"It sounds like our friends are in trouble…" Bubbles looked up from Boomer when she heard the sound of gunshots and screams in the distance. She had covered Boomer in a thermal sheet after she was done cleaning and bandaging his wrists. "What do we do?"

"We should help them, Mister Blake!" Blossom suggested aloud, itching to fly in the direction of the USDO soldiers in trouble, the fog, which had intimidated her with its miasmatic white abyss, was nothing now compared to the urgency she felt when it came to innocent lives. "We have to!"

"Yeah! Right? Right?" Buttercup was practically begging for a fight - agreeing to assist for all the wrong reasons.

Blossom was, of course right, Agent Blake thought. However, combat strategy and tactics weren't always about sympathy. He had to think about the cost in lives versus securing the objective. Should he safeguard those who had yet to encounter the Purple Man and brace them for the coming confrontation? Or race to save those who were already locked in deadly combat with him? Should he risk the Girls for the sake of expediency?

"Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup, go!" Agent Blake ordered. As much as he loved the Girls, he had to think of the lives of others too, even if he wasn't as close to them. It was the right thing to do. It had to be – it was three Girls against one. Three enhanced individuals against a single one. He told himself that the Girls should be fine – they had done this before.

"But what about Mister Wilbur?" Bubbles said as her hands were all over Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur's face - she had been stroking his hair, his cheeks, feeling really sorry for the poor man for what he had suffered - he had lost all his friends, and he was nailed to a tree as a human signpost for hours on end. And she had yet to take care of his ankles.

"We'll take care of him," Agent Fields, Blake's second, promised. "You did good work on his wrists. We'll work on his legs."

"Let's go, Girls!" Blossom ordered before kicking herself up into a high floating position then flying towards the sound of battle. Buttercup and Bubbles followed her eagerly and hesitantly respectively, their lines of pink, baby blue and lime green light disappearing into the winter fog.

The Girls had charged straight in, and yet, by the time they reached Charlie squad, all they had found were dead bodies not unlike the ones they had found in the Exxon gas station. Some were ripped apart limb by limb. Another had his face smashed in - his helmet doing nothing against the fists of the Purple Man. Another soldier had his guts pulled out. Yet another was bisected entirely at the waist. Only the minority of them were killed in a more conventional manner - by shotgun shells. Splotches of red colored the snowy floor like drips of paint on a canvas.

As Blossom and her sisters surveyed the scene in utter horror, the leader heard a twig snap, then leaves shuddering as if quaking in fear of the Purple Man.

"There!" Blossom pointed in the direction of some swaying trees leading into a thicker part of the woods. She flew in, her speed much slower to avoid accidents in the woods, followed by her sisters.

Despite giving chase as fast as they could, the Girls could never spot the purple fur Agent Blake had said to look out for. But they were closer than ever. Floating through the thick woods, they were able to hear footsteps just out of sight, and just when they thought they were getting warmer, it stopped abruptly. And so did they.

"Do you see purple, Buttercup?" Blossom asked, puzzled, as she looked all around her, and yet all she could see was white, white, and more white, as the winter snow had covered everything in its purity. Switching to her x-ray vision, she checked behind the trees, only to find no one hiding behind them.

"I don't see anything," Buttercup growled in frustration. She really wanted to best the Purple Man, and even take a few trophies from him.

"M-maybe we should go back and see if anyone needs help…" Bubbles was almost whispering as she held on tightly to her stockless XM4, shivering more from fear than the cold as her eyes darted around the woods, searching every corner of it. The fact that they had found nothing so far had only added to the fear.

"There wasn't anyone alive, Bobblehead," Buttercup said derisively. "And I thought my eyesight was bad."

Bubbles turned to stare Buttercup down - momentarily angry, but the heat in her gave way quickly to hurt, and pain, and misery.

"Shhh! Let's keep moving," Blossom said as she floated forward, deeper into the woods. "Be careful…"

A massive form rose from the snow, silent despite its size, silent despite the volume of snow it was throwing off itself. Standing up in his snowshoes, the massive form took one careful step forward after the next, in silent pursuit of the invaders - this time three wisps in service of the highfalutin government men. He pulled his weapon out of the ground - an old lever-action shotgun which he adored since the bad days in… He couldn't even remember much of his life.

But he wouldn't be using the old Winchester on the wisps - gosh, no, because the wisps were special like he was. They were so special that they were floating with their specialness. Slinging his old shotgun, he had something else in mind, something more personal.

As they floated lazily forwards, he was gaining on them with one big stride after the next. He was gaining on them alarmingly fast, and before he knew it, he was within an arm's length of them.

"Mister Blake said he was easy to see…" the blue wisp had whispered, and the Purple Man thought how knee-slappingly funny that was. After all, they had no idea what he was capable of, and it sure as hell was more than stealing the snow ghillie pants of the dead G-men to hide his denim pants. His tricks would be the last thing those meddling kids would ever learn.

He raised his claws at them, preparing to strike…

"I'm still worried that there could be someone we could help just now…" Bubbles said, and she wasn't lying. She was truly worried that someone in that recent battlefield was still alive, and in as much pain as Boomer. She turned around- "Maybe if I check-" and saw, right before her eyes, a massive form just rearing to strike her with its massive claws, and it wasn't purple at all.

"B- B- Blos-" Bubbles stuttered, petrified by the monster before her.

Before Bubbles could understand what she just saw, she felt claws on her right upper arm and shoulder, shredding right through the arm of her ghillie suit, her skin and partway, her flesh. The force of the blow had knocked her flat down to the ground. Blood splashed in four long blades across the snow.

Blossom and Buttercup whirled around in mid-air after hearing the roar that accompanied the attack. Buttercup trained her light machinegun on the massive form only for the hulking thing to grab it by the barrel and push it aside just as she had squeezed the trigger, causing her to miss all her shots and hit Blossom in the chest. Next thing she knew, what felt like a freight train slammed into her face, sending her flying many yards away and hitting a tree before tumbling in the snow.

Blossom, who was still recovering from taking a full burst of rifle rounds to the chest, had only time to see what she was up against: He was the Purple Man, alright, except he wasn't purple. His fur was white somehow such that he resembled some kind of a yeti creature, and he had covered his denim pants in stolen USDO snow ghillie apparel. He was wearing a kind of white woolen sack on one shoulder, its content unknown.

The beast took Blossom by the arms, by surprise. Sprinting towards a nearby tree, he slammed her against the trunk hard enough that the force had fallen the tree. She fell in the snow after he'd let go, his attention shifting to a bleeding Bubbles on the ground.

Bubbles was bawling her eyes out as she clutched her wounded arm - there were four deep claw marks going through skin and flesh, all of which were bleeding severely. She had completely lost it, to the point of forgetting that she had powers to match the Purple Man and that she wasn't just a normal little girl.

And it was made worse by the Purple Man staring at her with his ghoulish and soulless gray eyes when it took strides towards her, reminding her of pictures of anglerfishes and other predatory deep sea creatures.

Buttercup sat up despite the pain she felt in her cheek. She had never taken such a punch before. Touching it, she could feel a bulge forming, but something worse under her bruise had made even opening her mouth an agony.

Bubbles was screaming and crying at the same time. Buttercup shot up, but her machinegun was nowhere to be found – she had lost her grip on it after taking an anvil-like fist to the face. She unslung her MP5, which was still surprisingly found on her person. Aiming it quickly, she unloaded everything she had on the white-furred Purple Man, and every shot was a hit - the recoil was no match for her strength.

It served to distract him, not that that was her intention. With a roar, the Purple Man charged at Buttercup, who switched out her magazine quickly but could only let off half of it before he took a swing at her.

He was blindingly fast, and his size had done well to disguise that. Buttercup couldn't even get out of the way despite her powers of flight, what with the battle being measured in milliseconds.

It felt as if she had been thrown in a shredder when the Purple Man had swung his claws at her. His claws had cut a bloody, diagonal swathe through her ghillie suit, vest, uniform, and skin. A shocking amount of blood had splashed on the snow in the direction of the Purple Man's attack. Buttercup was sent tumbling once more with multiple deep lacerations in her chest leaving smudges of blood on the snowy white floor as she rolled.

And before she lost consciousness, she saw the Purple Man transform before her eyes, turning from white to purple like a chameleon.

Blossom was still recovering when Buttercup was struck down. But she'd seen it – her sister, rent so barbarously by a color-changing maniac. She couldn't even be sure that she was still alive – she'd felt pain in her temple when Buttercup was hurt, and it wasn't a good sign. And Bubbles, who was gripping her bleeding shoulder and arm and bawling on the ground, wasn't far behind.

"Buttercup!" Blossom yelled as she raised her own MP5 and let go with everything she had – bullets and infrared beam both. The bullets did nothing but ruffle fur, but her heat beams had seared red on purple, which was encouraging.

"Wha' in tarnation!" the Purple Man roared when he felt his fur and skin both burn as he shielded himself with his arms. It was the first time he'd felt such a thing. Thinking quickly, he picked up a moaning Buttercup by the sides and held her up as a shield. The heat beams stopped.

"Let her go!" Blossom warned the Purple Man as she was quickly swapping in a fresh MP5 magazine from her pouch.

"Or what?" the Purple Man replied surprisingly in a southern hillbilly accent. "You gonna burn me some mo'?"

"Bubbles, go around!" Blossom had turned to Bubbles for solutions. She was still crying, however, but the worse of it was over – still, she shook her head in fear, panic still deciding her actions. "Bubbles!"

That was when Buttercup came to, and with her remaining strength, threw her fists down and broke the Purple Man's grasp on her. Ignoring the beast's frightening roar, she began delivering right and left hooks to his face, knocking him back one step at a time. The blood on the Purple Man's lips encouraged her further. This was followed up by a furious flurry of machinegun punches to his chest, then a spinning kick where she floated. However, even after all that, the Purple Man was still not down – he wasn't even fazed by the attacks. Surprise turned to shock and fear when he simply spat a glob of blood into the snow nonchalantly and retaliated with a hammering wallop down her skull. So paralyzing and painful was it that Buttercup dropped to the floor after a pregnant moment.

"Leave my sister alone!" Blossom screamed before letting off another pair of heat beams. She could feel more pain in her temple when Buttercup was pounded over the head.

On feeling his chest getting burned, the Purple Man hit the deck immediately and unslung his shotgun, firing off a shotgun shell, forcing Blossom to hide behind a tree.

Buttercup's ears were ringing, her vision blurred. She could feel a severe headache coming on, and it was hard to think. But it didn't take good vision to see the massive, muscle-bound Purple Man, nor a good brain to figure out what to do next.

While the Purple Man continued to fire wild shots at Blossom as he stood up, Buttercup propelled herself straight from the ground and delivered a kick to his side, stumbling him and launching herself far away from him, up into the sky. From there, she launched herself into a flying punch but missed when the Purple Man sidestepped the attack, crashing into the snow. From the ground, she delivered a quick kick to the back of his knee, causing him to fall to a kneel. Getting up, she aimed a spinning kick to the back of his head and struck home.

"You like that!?" Buttercup taunted the Purple Man triumphantly as she flew away once more when he started swinging his claws around wildly, showing no sign of stopping.

"Oh, you!" the Purple Man said as he rubbed his head. "Slippery lil' city 'un!"

As Buttercup was flying around once more for a frontal assault, he aimed his shotgun and pointed it one-handed at Buttercup. He squeezed the trigger after he was certain he'd hit.

What happened next caught Buttercup unawares: the pellets hurt far more than the regular kind, had even dug into her skin somewhat. Somehow, the Purple Man's shotgun was better. Unbeknownst to the Girls, he had mixed some of his blood into the home-made gunpowder he had been making. The curious addition had made his shots more powerful, but without damaging his shotgun as he had reinforced the barrel and mechanisms with some old-fashioned blacksmithing.

The Purple Man whooped in celebration of his good aim as Buttercup fell from the sky like a hunted goose, landing in the snow. Shocked by her sister falling from the sky, Blossom rushed the Purple Man, eyes blazing and heat beam flaring. The Purple Man pumped his lever-action shotgun one-handed with a single jerk of his powerful arm and fired. Fading sideways, she was able to dodge most of the shot, feeling some of the pellets in her shoulder, before driving a foot into the Purple Man's solar plexus, actually pushing him back somewhat and causing him to roar in pain.

"That actually hurts!" the Purple Man screamed as he pulled down the lever of his shotgun. Meanwhile, Blossom had flown in an arc and delivered a double-kick to his back, aiming for a curious white cotton sack he'd been carrying around. Something crunched - shattered really hard. Blossom did not know what it was at first, as she was too busy trying to stay alive. Then she saw the pieces of a Banjo falling out of the holes in the white sack, scattering on the ground; carefully varnished wood, strings and oiled metal parts all.

"Joe! YOU'LL PAY FOR THAT!" the Purple Man bellowed furiously before smacking Blossom in the face as she was coming in for a flying punch. The blow sent her skidding in the snow and his fur had turned red in the meantime, a color scheme that even a kindergartner could figure out the meaning of. Getting up with blood snaking from her nostrils, Blossom wiped some of it off before launching herself into a flight straight towards the Purple Man, determined to take him down before he did the same to her sisters.

As if shooting a clay target, the Purple Man took aim and fired. Blossom was struck right in the face, the pellets propelled at speeds high enough to cause bruising even in her skin, and that was on top of the heavy blow he'd dealt to her with the back of his hand. The pain had been so blindingly extreme that she'd lost focus and even consciousness in that moment that she'd careened on the snowy floor face-first and delivered herself to the Purple Man.

The Purple Man had acted quickly to take advantage of this, seizing both Blossom and Buttercup by the neck and holding them up before him.

"Bubbles, help us!" Blossom screamed hoarsely for her other sister to act. Buttercup, on the other hand, was silent, her head lolling as she was being held like a ragdoll by the Purple Man - she was barely conscious.

Bubbles was still on the floor. The sound of the shotgun blasts had rooted her to the ground and spoiled her resolve. Weeks of therapy became non-existent. It had been enough that her sisters were beaten so completely right before her – what chance would she have against the Purple Man if her more able sisters couldn't stand against him?

Torn between her loyalty to her sisters and her insurmountable fear, Bubbles had frozen up. She sobbed and shivered where she was, the rifle near her abandoned, despite being quite reachable - her sonic scream all but forgotten, her strength locked behind her weakness.

Seeing this, the Purple Man chortled at how pathetic she was.

"Bubbles, please!" Blossom screamed, herself crying because she thought she was going to die there and then.

Seeing that the blue one was of no threat, the Purple Man got back to work, throwing them down on the ground so hard, one after the other, that the snow did nothing to cushion the Girls. Blossom could feel the wind knocked out of her and every bone in her rattling and screaming in pain with her. Buttercup was knocked unconscious a second time, and she was the lucky one.

The Purple Man raised his claws once more, and there was no mystery as to what he was going to do.

"Blossom!" Bubbles screamed, still unable to act. Blossom threw up her arms to protect herself - then felt claws on her forearms, slicing through her Kevlar arm guards, rending her flesh. The Purple Man followed up with another swipe with his other hand, and this time had caught Blossom in the chest, his claws slicing through ghillie suit and Kevlar like paper, tearing through Blossom's flesh like cloth. The enhanced little girl gasped and coughed in pain.

Bubbles felt pain in her temple as the Sister Sense between them transmitted the sensation. It'd added to the guilt.

"Why… are… you doing this?" Blossom asked the Purple Man, her voice weak, fading.

"You came to my neck of the woods with guns and terrible manners! You broke my Joe! And you're asking me that!?" the Purple Man roared his answer, and raised his claws once more. Blossom covered her face with her hand as she closed her eyes. The Purple Man's fur had turned a brighter shade of red in anticipation of the kill.

But help came. Up in the sky, a flare was shot upwards, ominously red but not for the Girls. There was a loud gunshot, and all of a sudden, blood spurted from the Purple Man's right arm. It screamed, surprisingly human.

It took off as quickly as it had appeared behind Bubbles, its fur turning from red to white once more. Within seconds, it had disappeared into the wilderness, chased after by Duranium bullets and more conventional sniper fire.

"Blossom… Oh no…" Bubbles said weakly as she finally found the will to act. Getting up weakly, still clutching her arm - by now her wound minor next to her sisters', she came up to Blossom, and the moment she saw clearly how hurt she was, voices in her mind had started blaming her, calling her names.

Blossom remained lying on the ground. Although she was hurt badly, she still had the strength to move. Betrayal, not pain, was keeping her down. A very strong sense of utter betrayal. And Bubbles' concerned voice had only served to stoke the fire of anger in her.

Bubbles knelt down beside her with a wince. "Blossom, are you okay?" she said to her sister.

Blossom did not reply. Instead, she stared up into the sky, watching the flare begin its descent. Her tears mingling with blood, freezing quickly into beads of condensed sadness.

"Blossom?" Bubbles pleaded for her to answer, and when she wouldn't, took her by the upper arms and tried to pull her up.

"Go away!" Blossom shouted as she struggled out of her grasp, and when Bubbles wouldn't let go, she pushed her away. They both fell in the snow. Blossom remained on her back, still not feeling like getting up while Bubbles floated back on her feet. She tried to help her up again, taking her by the arm with both her hands.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Blossom barked madly when Bubbles had tried again to pull her to her feet. She struggled from Bubbles' hands, going so far as to slap her multiple times in the arm when she wouldn't stop and let gk, until she landed a blow squarely in Bubbles' cheek, at which point the latter girl finally let go, her hands going up to her cheek.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Blossom cried loudly, clear fury in her voice.

In the meantime, men were racing down from a nearby ridge, along with others from two other directions. Blake and his men.

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles mewled her apology as she clutched her - Blossom's slap had hurt more than the Purple Man's claws. "I… I was scared…"

"I DON'T CARE!" Blossom screamed with fury and explosive anger unchecked, before getting up on her own accord, motivated more by anger than anything else as she marched up to Bubbles. "Buttercup's right about you. You're useless! You're a USELESS no-good cry-baby coward!"

"Blossom! Don't! I'm sorry!" Bubbles cried as she cowered on the floor, shocked by how her sister had changed so dramatically with her rage.

"I HATE YOU! YOU LEFT ME TO DIE!" Blossom screamed and gave Bubbles a kick in the arm – the uninjured one only by coincidence – as the blue-eyed girl shrank away from her mad sister. Blossom would have done more to Bubbles too, had Agent Blake not ran up to her. Instead, she'd left Bubbles sniffling and tearing up instead.

"Blossom!" he called out to her. The mere presence of an adult had quelled her anger somewhat - she knew that the adults she loved wouldn't have approved of her shouting and violence towards her own sister, no matter how justified it seemed at the time.

Blossom turned around to face Mister Blake, turning her back on Bubbles. The pain in her chest - in her arms - everywhere, in fact, had flared up. She shivered as she could feel the cold, wintry gale penetrating her to the very bone, through the slits made by the Purple Man in her tactical gear, uniform, skin, and flesh. She winced as she limped up to Blake, her legs suddenly feeling weak.

She'd nearly collapsed on the floor had the USDO agent not catch her as she fell.

Bubbles, in the meantime, had sunk to the floor, left by Blossom a shocked, gibbering mess, caught in an unfortunate and unpleasant middle world between wanting to withdraw entirely from the world and wanting to cry her eyes out. Her reckoning had come - for the past month and more, she knew that her peaceful world would come crashing down, and she would be hated once more. Except she didn't expect even her closest sister to hate her too… to the point of taking swipes at her, screaming at her and even agreeing with Buttercup about all the terrible things the toughest of The Three had said about her.

When Sergeant Rutherland tried to get her attention by snapping his fingers in front of her, she wouldn't even respond as she was too preoccupied with feeling down and sorry for herself. The black man had put it down to shock and blood loss.

"Come on, let's get you home," the sergeant said as he pulled a thermal sheet from one of his pouched and draped it over her shoulder. Carefully avoiding the severe lacerations on her arm, he carried her with an arm under the crook of her knees and another under her back. Bubbles clung to his neck, welcoming the fact that there were still people who didn't hate her.

Meanwhile, a couple of Blake's men had come upon Buttercup, who was still out cold in the snow. One of them checked her pulse to discover that she was still alive, despite lying in a pool of her own blood, frozen as part of the snow.

The Girls had to be carried on stretchers as they were too injured to fly any appreciable distance. With their most powerful assets - and friends - severely wounded, Agent Blake had called off the manhunt and declared it a failure, before ordering the three surviving squads under his command to coalesce into a single fighting force as a defensive measure as they made their retreat back to Townsville.

Extraction by helicopters was impossible, thanks in part due to the USDO becoming engaged in fighting crime in Townsville - crime was on the upsurge once again. Another reason had been the Purple Man. There was no doubt that he could do something to a helicopter once he saw it. The risk of a crash with all personnel lost was too great.

With the Girls and Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur on stretchers and some of the dead bodies of their comrades in tow, the retreat took far longer than the advance. Surprisingly, the Purple Man had left them alone despite their more vulnerable state. Lieutenant Blake had put it down to it nursing its own injuries.

It was well into the night before they finally got back to civilization. One thing was for sure: They wouldn't be coming back to the Purple Man's neck of the woods anytime soon.


	19. Chapter 16: Convalescence

**Chapter 16: Convalescence**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**8 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1113.**

Selicia had to carry Blossom to her room after Thomas was done checking on her injuries - the professor had opted instead to remain in the lab to continue his work on Anti-X, making final checks on his calculations and chemical theories. The Girls were recovering quickly, though their wounds were too heavy for an overnight convalescence. Blossom held on gratefully to Selicia's neck with both her hands as she began to doze off. Lack of sleep last night and her injuries meant that they would need an extra nap.

Emerging into the Girls' room, she put her down on Buttercup's side of the bed, beside her sisters, who were already asleep, partly because of the medication they consumed. Blossom slipped into the green side of the tri-colored blanket on her own with a wince.

"There you go, Blossy-dear," she said as she tucked her in. "All safe and sound now."

"I love you, Mom," Blossom liked Mom when she was like this - caring and nurturing, almost as much as Dad. As she thought about this fact, Selicia leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"But don't you feel too safe, dear," Selicia said as she took a bottle of concentrated painkiller from the nightstand on Blossom's side. The painkiller was specially produced for the Girls, made to overwhelm their resistance to the usual concentration of chemicals.

"Why, Mom?" Blossom asked with a yawn - with sleep overtaking her, she didn't read too much into what she said, nor would she be all that capable of it. "I feel safe with you and Dad…"

"Because I won't forgive you for what happened to Buttercup in the woods," Selicia said bluntly, before producing a spoon and pouring some painkiller into it. Blossom had been on the cusp of sleep, her eyes closing, but on hearing this, they opened wide. The little girl pushed herself up close to the headboard, trying to sit up, but she'd ended up about halfway up as her wounds had started to hurt them.

"Mom, please don't," Blossom pleaded with her Mom, who seemed to have transformed right before her eyes on the effects of her magic words. "I tried - I really tried. I love Buttercup, I really do!"

"Shh… It's okay, darling. I believe you," Selicia simply shushed Blossom derisively with a smile as she ran her hands down her face - she liked it when the powerful enhanced little girl was terrified of her so utterly. "It's worse that you love Buttercup. It just means you've failed someone you love."

"Your punishment will come. Just not now. We'll talk about it when you're fully healed," Selicia pushed the spoon of painkiller up close to her lips. "Now drink."

Blossom opened her mouth and let the spoon slip into her mouth, her eyes still fixed on her Mom's. She felt the spoon tilt in her mouth, and she swallowed the bitter-tasting fluid. Selicia took a glass of water from the nightstand and fed Blossom some water for the taste after that.

"Now lie back down dear," Selicia said, deceptively sweet and warm. She helped pull Blossom into a comfortable sleeping position, looming over her like a bear. A dangerous, magically transforming momma bear. "Sweet dreams…" She chuckled before leaning in again to plant another peck on Blossom, this time right on her lips, up close and personal, just to invade what little personal space she had and show the little enhanced bitch who owned who. Blossom tried to get away from it, but her injury and the tight space meant that she could not.

The painkiller took effect quickly, and as Selicia stood up, Blossom could immediately feel its side effects. Her vision blurred, and no matter how she fought to stay awake, she soon slipped into a much-needed sleep.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Sal's Milk Bar.**

**8 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1521.**

As promised, Detective Mullens had met the Girls for their fortnightly meet-up at Sal's Milk Bar. Detective Olivia and Stanley Talker had come along too. They were all out of uniform; the Girls had been deactivated for duty as they had yet to recover fully from their atrocious injuries, while Mullens, Olivia, and Stanley had all taken the day off.

The Girls were in their normal dresses with their sashes tied around their waist like ribbons. White high socks and Mary-Jane shoes. But they were also dressed as much in bandages, and Blossom had suffered the worst of it: the Purple Man's blow was hard enough to cause hairline fractures in her arm. As such, her left arm was in a sling. Most of the bandages were wrapped around the chest, out of sight.

The detectives were out of their trenchcoats – that was just about the only difference with them. Stanley Talker the talking dog had opted to go with a grey hoodie and a short pants.

Things had changed - it didn't take a veteran detective to notice things. The Girls used to sit together at the bar tables, but now, Bubbles had retreated to an empty booth, nesting in a corner seat by the window as if shielding herself from an explosion waiting to happen. Her milkshake sat on the table untouched, where everyone else's was almost done. The ice in her tall glass had already melted halfway to nothing, forming a film of cloudy water on top.

Still, Bubbles sat all alone, hunched and staring into the table, her eyes glazed over like a corpse's. Had Mullens not known any better, he would have thought that she was a wax statue installed by the milk bar to improve customer patronage.

Blossom and Buttercup, on the other hand, seemed to be getting along a little better. They were talking to each other a little more, likely because Bubbles had been taken out of the equation. What did require a veteran detective to figure out was the fact that the Girls had gone through another traumatic event the previous day in the woodland reserves. He'd called up Agent Blake to check on the Girls, and it wasn't as easy as it seemed; he had to go through a USDO operator before he was allowed to speak to him.

From what he heard, it ain't good. Blossom had spilled everything to Agent Blake, who was her next closest confidante after her father, and he'd found out from Blake that Bubbles had basically committed a sin in police partner code terms. She had failed to watch her sisters' back even when they'd watched hers. And her reason wasn't any better: It was because she was scared.

It sounded bad, and Bubbles ought to sound like the dirty little villain, but the detective couldn't blame the little kid. After all, they were kids, whether three months old or five years, it didn't matter. She wasn't ready for the kind of shit even adults fear in the streets, super-strength and eye beams or not.

Stanley Talker had taken notice of Bubbles earlier on. After slurping up his milkshake in a bowl, he'd jumped on top of the booth seat Bubbles was on and licked her in the face, anticipating a giggle or at least a smile. It didn't work. So he sat next to her and did what he was best known for.

"Hrrr… Can't be that terrirle, can rit?" the talking dog said. The truth was, even he knew that it was bad - Detective Mullens had briefed him and Olivia on what he'd found out about the Girls' operation the previous day. Bubbles did not answer. "Talk to re, kid."

"It was…" Bubbles whispered in such a soft manner that even the talking dog had difficulty hearing it.

"Rut you knor what?" Stanley Talker said, trying to coax Bubbles into talking more. He found it to be effective as far as he knew. There were lots of officers in his station who needed someone to talk to - they'd treated him as some sort of a therapy dog and he was a damned good one at that, being able to fulfill the roles of both a team pet and conversation partner at the same time.

"What?" Bubbles mumbled as a tear escaped an eye.

"The world risn't so rad," the talking dog said, and by that he meant that the world wasn't so bad. "Rook rat re - Ri ras running from re rUSDrO for ronths rand now life's reen good rith re police."

"I hate myself," Bubbles sniffled. "I hate this world."

"Don't say that," Talker said. "Tell yourself that things will get retter. Trust re, Rur-rles." Bubbles did not say a word to that. In her mind, it was impossible to believe the talking dog. Things were bad in the past, and things had been bad since. January was good only because it wasn't as bad. The world seemed to consist only of different degrees of terrible to Bubbles.

"Rur-rles?" the talking dog tried to get Bubbles' attention when he realized she hadn't replied to him. "Do you want to re ralone?"

Bubbles replied by wrapping her arm around the dog's neck, and the talking dog knew what he meant. Sitting down in the booth beside her, he allowed Bubbles to lean on him and rub her tears away with his hoodie.

Time slipped by like a trickle of sand in an hourglass. Bubbles had done nothing in the meantime, taking not even a sip of her milkshake. If there was an hourglass, it was broken because time seemed to have stood still at that moment.

The stillness was only broken when Detective Mullens slipped into the booth, sitting on the opposite side of the table as Bubbles.

"You mind if I have a minute with Bubbles here?" he asked Stanley Talker. Wordlessly, the talking dog stood on all fours, gave Bubbles a friendly lick in the cheek before turning around and jumping off the seat.

"I heard it was bad," Mullens spoke respectfully, softly to the depressed little girl. She, however, had kept staring at her lap. The old detective continued: "I won't lie to you, girlie, and I won't sugar-coat it. It was terrible, what happened yesterday, and I can't say that you're blameless."

Bubbles' only response was to shut her eyes. What she did wasn't a mystery when tears had fought through her eyelids regardless. The detective could feel, no, he knew, that she had balled up her fists. He knew because he used to do it, back in the day when everyone he cared about were still fresh memories that he could almost touch.

"You could have done something to distract the Purple Man. Shot at him or punched him, or anything to get your sisters out of the way. They would have been killed, Bubbles," the detective went on. Despite the accusative content of his words, he was still being soft-spoken and gentle – something Bubbles would never have imagined Mullens to be more than a month ago.

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles mewled, then sniffled.

"That's good. It means you know what's wrong. It means you love your sisters, and you won't do it again," Mullens added. "As much as I hate the idea of the three of you leading the fight against crime. Bubbles, I know what you want, and I'm sure many people want the same for the three of you just as much. Including me. Children, you know, should be safe and happy and having fun."

"I don't want anything anymore," Bubbles sobbed.

"Yes, you do. You're just too upset right now to see it," Mullens said. "You know, an old man like me… I've made mistakes like yours too. Wanna hear it?"

Bubbles sniffled. "It can't be as bad as yesterday," she said. To Mullens, it felt like a win because, at the very least, she seemed interested in what he had to say.

"Oh, but it can be. I was once a young, handsome cop in a neat uniform, you believe that?" Mullens reminisced.

"No…" Bubbles let slip.

"Right. Anyway, I wasn't so handsome when I had my first multiple armed perps scenario," the old detective went on with his story. "Old jewelry store in Old Town. We went in there, guns blazing. I was caught in the shoulder like you. My partner and two others went on, but it went south really quickly. They called for my help, but I stayed down for, I don't know, half a minute maybe. By the time I got my act together, my partner had to be put in ICU and those two other cops? They gave their lives for a fistful of pretty, shiny stones belonging to some man they don't know. All because I took half a minute too long to act."

When Bubbles heard the story, she finally broke into a full-on sob.

"Bubbles, hey," Detective Mullens said softly to the enhanced little girl – how times had changed; two months ago, he would have more likely smacked Bubbles in the cheek but now… "Look at me." And she did, giving him that needy, thirsty look. "Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

Bubbles shook her head – too upset to think, so upset she likely couldn't even add one to one, much less put two and two together.

"That story I told you? It was a dime in a dozen. I've made more mistakes since and I'm still sitting here with a badge on my belt and a gun to waste them low-lives," the detective spelled it out for her. "You're luckier than I am, Bubbles. Do you believe that?"

"No…" Bubbles said dejectedly.

"You have two sisters, Bubbles. I had one really close brother-in-arms and he's gone. Your sisters are still there, drinking strawberry and mint milkshakes. You still have a chance to make things right with them. And those men who died because of me? No matter how many criminals I put in the slammer, I can't bring them back." Detective Mullens said, a hint, just a hint of sadness in his voice. The stonewall he'd been building in him over the past few decades had gotten as long and thick as the Great Wall of China, but it was never enough to keep all of it in, and Bubbles saw that. She reached out for his hand, and he took it, even though he had great reservations for showing any emotions except in front of Olivia.

But Bubbles soon fell back into her depression again, like a flatlined heart a doctor had failed to resuscitate.

"But they hate me," she murmured. "Buttercup has always hated me and now Blossom hates me too…"

"They're just really mad. Give them time, kid," Detective Mullens advised. "If my ol' pal could come around eventually – even though he shouldn't have - I'm sure your sisters will."

"But you weren't there yesterday," Bubbles said, and the bare mention of 'yesterday' had gotten her sobbing harder than ever.

"What do you mean?" the detective asked. "Here, at least take a sip of your milkshake before you die of dehydration." He pushed Bubbles' blueberry milkshake closer to her. The sweet little girl took one short suck of the straw from it as if it was laced with poison, before insisting on death by dehydration.

"We were taken home yesterday late at night, and Blossom and Buttercup hadn't spoken to me ever since the Purple Man…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**7 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 2113.**

The Girls were taken home late at night, and Blossom and Buttercup hadn't spoken to Bubbles ever since the Purple Man. This was despite their injury having no effect on their voices and consciousness - Buttercup had woken up hours ago. Despite being put in the same Lamborghini speed transport - Mister Blake's - Blossom and Buttercup hadn't even so much as turned to look in her general direction. They had only spoken briefly to each other, but never to her, and sometimes about her, rudely referring to her in the third person.

When the speed transport had finally pulled up at The House, the light at the window was already switched on. Professor Utonium and Selicia were out the door faster than the Girls could leave Agent Blake's car, and the Girls were in a deplorable state - most of their gear was taken off, they were bandaged all over and all of them had thick thermal blankets on. Blossom's face looked like it had been trampled upon. Bubbles was a poster child for a Good Samaritans depression detection ad. Buttercup's mouth was kept close by a cloth wrapped around her head, under the chin.

Professor Utonium and Selicia were, of course, shocked, with the former looking almost sickly, something that had never happened ever since the previous year. Rushing up to the Girls, Selicia bent down to hug Buttercup while the professor did the same with Blossom and Bubbles - though he had to pull Bubbles closer as she was trying to stay away from Blossom for some reason.

"How on Earth did this happened, Blake!?" the professor accused the Girls' chaperone. "What did you do!?"

"I'm sorry, Utonium," Agent Blake said, making no attempts to defend himself. His second-in-command and closest men, however, had become more guarded.

"They were trying to help my men and they were… attacked by a hostile enhanced individual. I rushed to help them as fast as I could and…" he tried to explain. His soft voice, his apologetic tone, however, did nothing to calm the professor down. Standing up, he started aggressively towards Blake.

"I put my daughters' lives in your hand! I trusted you and-" the professor growled at the security lieutenant.

"Dad, no!" Bubbles cried and pulled her Daddy by the hand strong enough that she was able to stop him, at the cost of aggravating her wounds. "Ow!"

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry!" the professor desisted when he realized he had hurt his sweetest adopted daughter in his anger. Selicia came up to the professor, putting her arms around him.

"Thomas, honey, we need to take care of our Girls first," Selicia said, and reluctantly, he backed away from Agent Blake. She then turned to Blake and whispered an apology to him.

The family had literally spent the night in the lab as a result of the disaster that was the manhunt. The Girls' injuries were grievous enough that they had to be put under and performed on simultaneously. By midnight, they had hundreds of stitches between them and the professor thought that the Girls were lucky they did not have internal injuries. He had examined their wounds while they were asleep and came to the conclusion that whoever it was that attacked them was strong enough to maim them as easily as a bear would a regular human being. Had the Purple Man aimed a little lower, he might have ripped open their bellies and done the damage he wasn't sure even their healing factor could remedy.

The next day, he and Selicia had made sure to prepare the biggest, tastiest breakfast for them, and before they even woke up, they carried them upstairs into the living room. With them convalescing, even with their lightning-fast healing factor, it would take more than a night for them to come back from the Purple Man's savage attacks.

When the Girls finally woke up, it didn't take long for the professor to realize that the damage done to them wasn't just physical. At the dinner table, there seemed to be a change in the relationships between the three of them. Where Buttercup was previously the odd one out, Bubbles had fallen silent with her eyes glued to everything else but her sisters - mostly her plate of waffles. Blossom was talking to Buttercup more, though not as much as Blossom and Bubbles would have. Every time Bubbles tried to engage in conversation with Blossom, she would be given the glare and ignored.

Not wanting to force the Girls to get along as it would be futile, the professor left them be. Selicia secretly liked the new dynamic better, even if she disliked Blossom. It meant that Buttercup had risen in importance. Although she had less against Bubbles than she did against Blossom, Selicia thought that Bubbles didn't deserve to be at the right hand of Blossom - she had neither worked for it nor put her position to use. Blossom had been making decisions all alone and Bubbles would just follow them blindly and jump off a cliff like a lemming if the almighty and glorious leader said so. Buttercup would make a better right hand, if not a better leader.

At least, that was what Selicia read into the dynamics among the Girls.

School was out again as a result of the Girls' injuries. The professor had to phone Miss Keane about it, and Miss Keane had expressed her fears that the Girls' education would be affected if this kept up, going on to say that early childhood was a critical period for the Girls' development, a period which would end whether or not the Girls had learned everything their potential would allow.

"I can't thank you enough, Miss Keane, for looking out for the Girls," Professor Utonium had said before hanging up. "But it won't come to that. I think I have a solution for that too."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**8 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1315.**

Playtime was more passive than before, owing to the severe injuries the Girls had suffered. Bubbles, however, bore the brunt of it as she had kept to herself as much as Blossom and Buttercup were alienating her. While Bubbles played with her dolls in a corner of the room half-heartedly, more miserable than having fun, Buttercup had brought out her car collection, and Blossom had joined in on the vehicle mayhem she was starting. The pink-eyed girl had even managed to get Buttercup to play a more tame game simulating the traffic they'd been seeing in Townsville.

Their Dad had seen it all. He had passed by the room on purpose several times to check on them. He had suspected since breakfast that animosity had grown between Blossom and Bubbles, and he had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to 'corner' Blossom so he could solve this problem before it got any worse.

"Girls, I think it's time we prepare for your trip to the milk bar," the professor called out to them. Blossom and Buttercup responded with enthusiastic smiles on their face. He padded up to Blossom and Buttercup and stroked the latter girl in the head. "Why don't you go to Mom and she'll give you a sponge bath?"

"Bubbles, go with Buttercup," he said when he turned to the hunched form of the blue-dressed little girl in a corner of the Girls' room. At first, it seemed as if she didn't hear him, but then she got up (very) reluctantly and ambled towards the door.

"What about me?" Blossom asked, still beaming.

"I'll give you your sponge bath, flower bud," the professor said, before taking her hand. She had to go around him as one of her arms was in a sling. "I think your Mom will have her hands full with both Buttercup and Bubbles to take care of.

The professor led Blossom to the common bathroom out in the corridor. Inside, he shut the door behind them before turning the faucet at the bathtub.

"How are you, Blossom?" he asked as he felt the heat of the water, gauging it to be of an acceptable temperature. "Hanging in there?"

"I'm fine, I guess…" the leader of The Three said as she tried to remove her own dress, only to feel pain in her side. "Ouch…"

"Let me do it," the professor said, coming to her. "You get to be a princess today - you've done a lot yesterday. Too much, in fact." The professor's word choice had reminded Blossom of Princess - Elodie - and she could only wonder how she'd been doing all this while.

The professor removed Blossom's dress, slipping it from above her. He then went on to gently remove her bandages. The sight underneath was horrific - the wounds had healed just about halfway, which meant that there were still hideous rifts in the enhanced little girl's skin, all across her chest and arms. The stitches were still there, many dozens of them. Blossom had seen it while she was changing into her dress, but she couldn't get used to it: seeing it again made her upset. And angry. And the professor could see it in her eyes. It was the perfect opportunity for him to act.

"Do you want to talk about it, Blossom?" he asked, and as the water rose in the tub, he sat down on the side of it and gently - carefully - lifted Blossom and placed her on his lap. She didn't answer as she was conflicted about it.

"Whatever happened out there, Blossom should stay out there," the professor said. "Bubbles is still your sister - and she'll always be your sister. She's the sweetest girl I know. You're lucky to have her."

"Lucky!? Look at what she's done to me! I should have listened to Buttercup!" Blossom yelled, out of control, before regretting it when she realized she had startled her own Daddy. She had been going out of control lately, and it was something she couldn't fail to notice. Hot tears prickled her eyes after she realized it had happened again, and right in front of her father. "I'm sorry…"

"Honey, it's okay," the professor cooed at Blossom, but she'd already started crying.

"I've changed, haven't I?" Blossom sobbed. "I promised you I'll always be your little Blossom and now I've changed."

"Hey, you are my little Blossom - that hasn't changed," her Dad comforted her, wiping her tears away. "It's not Bubbles' fault bad things happened. You have to accept that, Blossom."

Try as she might, Blossom couldn't understand what the professor said. Bubbles was clearly at fault, for failing to act when she could have. She was mostly fine, and could have done something to help. She was mostly fine, and she and Buttercup were badly hurt because she had cowered when they needed her. Without knowing it, Blossom had put on a scowl as hideous as her wounds, and the professor noticed it.

"She did nothing when the Purple Man was hurting me, Dad," Blossom asserted. "She loves me but she did nothing when I needed her."

The professor sighed, unsure of what to say. The way Blossom had put it, it did seem like it was Bubbles' fault. Still, the professor could never blame Bubbles - the Girls weren't supposed to be out there, to begin with. At least, that was his view.

"I don't expect you to forgive her immediately, but you have to try Blossom," he added. "You're the smartest of them all. Why not show Bubbles how wise you are and maybe she'd be inspired to do better next time?" Memories of Bubbles cowering while she was getting pounded on and cut up by the Purple Man, however, told her otherwise. This, along with how she had screwed up in the sewers and factory, had put the final nail in the coffin.

"I'll think about it," Blossom said in a defiantly sarcastic way. It seemed familiar to the professor. Where had he heard that before? It was the first time he heard Blossom say it.

Unknown to both of them, Selicia had redirected Bubbles back to the professor as she wanted to be alone with Buttercup. Feeling unwanted and miserable, Bubbles was walking back to her room when she heard both her dad and Blossom talking. Even her Dad thought she was wrong. She'd been eavesdropping, and she'd heard the whole thing.

And what they had said behind her back broke her heart.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Sal's Milk Bar.**

**8 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1535.**

When Bubbles was done narrating her story, she was back to sobbing again, not that she had ever stopped.

"Jesus, kid," Detective Mullens said. "That's really something alright."

Bubbles story had rendered him speechless. It wasn't every day that he'd heard such stories. It was just about as bad as the kind he would hear from street kids - children who were either mixed up in gangs or had family members who were into that kind of stuff. Except Bubbles' was the limited edition law enforcement version.

"Listen… People say all sorts of things when they're mad," he reasoned. "And your father's just trying to make peace between you and your sis. I don't think he agrees with Blossom at all."

Bubbles sniffled. "You think so?" she said. "What if she's angry forever?"

"Nah, ain't gonna happen, girlie," the detective said. "It takes a lot of energy to be angry. I know for a fact that it… eats away at you. Olivia used to be mad at me, and she's as stubborn as they come, just like me."

"Really?" Bubbles said, unconvinced. She was no stranger to stories and tall tales that weren't true.

"I'm not playing with you. Look at us now - a dad-daughter team, and a pretty good one too," Detective Mullens said, trying to sound as optimistic as he could, no matter how much the world had beaten him down. Even if he had to appear a little cartoonish. "My point is, anger isn't forever, kiddo. Now, a lil' girl like Blossom… I don't think she's got it in her to stay mad for very long."

Bubbles looked out the window. The winter clouds above had blocked out most of the sunlight, but there was a silver lining between two clouds, allowing some light through. Mister Mullens had said much about her problem - and she thought that that was enough, even if she doubted most of it. Perhaps there's a silver lining for her too, after all?

"I believe you…" Bubbles said. It was all she could do, with things going out of her control. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she took a hearty, long sip from her milkshake.


	20. Chapter 17: Vice (Part 1)

Reply to Guest: See bottom because it's long.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Vice (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2045.**

Bubbles remained alone even after a mundane day had come and gone. The Girls were finally able to go to school on Thursday, and their patrol duty was cut short to two hours since they had only just recovered, their battle scars still visible on their otherwise young, spotless skin. It would be another day before they disappear entirely.

Nothing had happened during patrol. The only action they were involved in during the day was found on the golf course with Mayor Wilford shortly after patrol, who had asked to meet them after hearing about the incident in the woods through Miss Bellum. During the conversation, which Buttercup found boring and Bubbles was too upset to listen to, they were given a chance to try their hand at golf, but it became a rather brief session when Blossom accidentally sent a ball hurtling far beyond the bounds of the course, Buttercup had caused an explosion of dirt and grass in the ground when she tried to strike the ball and Bubbles wouldn't even join in.

Instead, she sat alone at the spectator's table, under a parasol. Her only source of comfort was the dream she had last night.

She was in the woods all alone, and it was a cold and snowy night. She was beset by monsters who looked like the Purple Man, and she couldn't escape. For some reason, her powers were gone and she couldn't run very far.

When she happened upon a house that looked exactly like hers, with Blossom and Buttercup sitting on the front lawn, playing with their construction trucks, she thought she was safe. But the house told her otherwise, with it being run down, with severe red lights emanating from the round windows on the second floor. She tried to tell them about the monsters, but they ignored her entirely, still playing with their toy trucks, still conversing between themselves. When she grabbed Blossom in an attempt to gain her attention, she actually punched her - and Blossom was still as strong as she was in reality.

The punch had sent her miles back and right smack in the middle of a horde of those Purple Men. When she thought she was going to be torn apart, a bright light shone from deep within the woods, overtaking her and the creatures that wanted to divide her up. But the dream was over the moment she looked upon her savior - a woman with golden hair, sparkly blue dress and silver shoes, with wings like an angel. She'd stuck out a hand for her to take.

The next thing Bubbles knew, she'd woken up to Mom shaking her awake early in the morning to prepare her for school.

Back in reality, the Girls were back home from the golf course after having their fill of lemonades, cookies and friendly banter. Dinner was eaten with Bubbles being ostracized once more as Blossom and Buttercup conversed between them, talking about battle tactics and martial arts while ignoring Bubbles' feeble attempts at contributing.

It was the worse while Selicia was training the Girls before sending them to the professor for a bath and playtime after that. As usual, Bubbles was pitted against Blossom because the Mom knew she would never stand a chance against Buttercup. Furthermore, she knew that Blossom always go easy on Bubbles.

Except this time, Blossom did not go easy on Bubbles. Already too depressed and suffering from a distaste for physical violence, Bubbles was barely putting in effort when she went for a predictable chest punch, expecting Blossom to just dodge it. Instead, her leader sister went all out on her. With a shout, she delivered a chop to the side of her neck, stunning her before seizing her by the wrist and thrusting a hooking kick to her knees, forcing her to the ground and pinning her arm to her back, making sure to give it a good, painful twist and making her cry out in agony.

And Selicia had made them go at it again and again. Blossom did not let up one bit, and Bubbles knew that where Blossom once cared, she was now the reverse; she even enjoyed making her squeal, likely as punishment or revenge for leaving her to die to the Purple Man. In their second round, Bubbles was driven to defend herself more vigorously, and had tried a double punch, only to be felled by a kick to the side of her knee, a spinning kick to the face, which she blocked but at the cost of getting knocked down, before she was subdued swiftly with a neck lock - Blossom had made sure that it was tight to the point of strangulation, and as if Mom was conspiring with her, she wasn't called off until after an agonizing minute or two, when she actually believed that Blossom was going to choke her to death.

On the third round, Blossom had gone all out, blocking Bubbles' pitiful attempts at doing the same, before delivering a sweeping punch to her thigh, which got her down to her knees once more. The match ended quickly, as always, when Blossom gave her a right hook to the face, and this time, it was hard enough that Bubbles bled from the nostrils as she sat on the ground. She wept when the only reaction from Blossom was a cold stare. Before the Purple Man, it would have been a profuse series of apologies, a hug, and a napkin.

"Bubbles! How many times must I tell you to NEVER take your eyes off the target!?" Selicia had scolded the defeated little girl, adding salt to wound. Bubbles had been consistently looking away from Blossom, mostly because she couldn't bear to make eye contact with her. "NEVER let your guard down! God, what am I supposed to do with you!? No wonder Buttercup and Blossom were hurt so badly!"

Back in 'her' room after a bath, in which Blossom and Buttercup played with the water without her, Bubbles was left by the wayside again as Blossom and Buttercup played with a construction set, with Blossom throwing in her wooden blocks as building material. Bubbles had only her mind to play with, with Octi lying limply in her lap, after she found everything else unpalatable because of her situation. Yet, all she was doing was to think back to those times when she had faltered, to those horrible times that made her feel terrible beyond a normal person's comprehension.

That was when the hotline rang. And its song was almost a godsend. To Bubbles, it meant a distraction from her solitude and alienation, or even a chance to redeem herself.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ It rang. Blossom flew to it within the third ring, ready as ever to help the weak.

"Mister Blake, is that you?" Blossom had answered enthusiastically; it had always been him so far, and he had been nothing but a good friend. In the woods, when they were in so much pain, he was right beside them at all times.

"This is General Blackwater," the big man's voice boomed into her ear instead. "I have a special assignment for the three of you. Do it better this time than you did the last time." He'd said it sternly, coldly and without remorse - perpetually in a bad mood.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip, Outer Edges.**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2102.**

"Aw, yuck! Not this place again!" Buttercup moaned as they flew into the area known as The Strip - she could identify the district by the more garish colors of the buildings and street decorations. They were flying really low this time by the explicit instructions of General Blackwater, so low down that they were following the streets, mere feet above the tallest vehicles. The last time the Girls were here, it didn't end well, and it wasn't just because they ended up chasing a bunch of criminals from The Strip to Highway 13, resulting in severe property damages, heavy civilian casualties and little contribution to the war against organized crime. The adults here were… strange. Odd. To put it mildly, weird to the Girls. Not so mildly, they thought the adults here were disgusting. For some reason, some of them would pull off some or most of their clothes while they were on stage and the others would like it, to the point of hooting and whooping at them, catcalling with every flex and jerk of their bodies! The Girls couldn't understand one bit why they would behave in such a manner, nor what the appeal of such an activity was.

"I wonder what did General Blackwater mean by 'special assignment'?" Blossom asked aloud, mostly addressing Buttercup while Bubbles kept silent. Even their formation was broken because of Blossom and Bubbles' falling out, with the latter flying behind them. "And why do we have to fly so low? I hate the smell of the smoke…" By that, she meant the vehicle exhaust fumes coming from the busy traffic of the city.

But it wasn't just the smoke that Blossom hated. The reason why she loved flying so high was that cutting through the city was faster and easier. By flying low, she was bound to the directions of the streets, and she had to remember exactly how to navigate it, street by street. Even with her superior memory and intelligence, it was a major headache. A slow and painful process.

After rounding a corner, they had finally made it to the address General Blackwater had given. This time, there was no heart signal, and the number of accompanying cops or soldiers were very few - in fact, there were no USDO soldiers at all. At first glance, it appeared as if there were no cops, and Blossom had to squint and zoom in with her eyes to spot her favorite policemen: Mister Mullens and Olivia. Stanley Talker was with them, and he had blended in far better than any human being could.

They weren't in their usual clothing. Mister Mullens was in a dark blue suit, something incredibly uncharacteristic of him - the intention being that he was supposed to be a tourist looking to roll a few dices and pull a few levers. Olivia looked like a waitress with a formal blouse and pants from a high-end restaurant. The talking dog… had to go naked to blend in as a normal, unremarkable dog, complete with a restrictive collar and a demeaning leash which Olivia was holding onto.

The Girls landed in front of them, unsure of what to expect and why their police friends were playing dress up.

"What are we doing, Mister Mullens?" Blossom asked.

"Yeah, I hate this place," Buttercup added.

Bubbles remained silent, her eyes glued to the floor. Mullens, Olivia, and Stanley were looking at her, concerned, but their duties took precedence.

"I'm glad you do. I've got a new lead after busting up the sewers," Detective Mullens explained as he lit a cigarette. Blossom found it disconcerting, and when she took a glance at Olivia, she saw that she appeared the same way too. The detective had stopped smoking weeks ago - and the little girl knew from her Dad that it was a bad habit - a vice. That he would start again meant that something was wrong. "The drug lord you bagged for us, Blossom, squealed that some of his merchandises were going into The Strip…" The detective took a puff of his cigarette as he leaned against a lamp post, looking like he had taken on some extra weights upon his shoulders.

"What is it, Mister Mullens?" Bubbles finally talked, unable to stay silent any longer. The old man looked incredibly troubled, and she was worried about him. He had been nice to her and she wanted to do the same for him.

"Some of the drugs aren't just going into The Strip, they are going to the worst part of it. We're talking about men - and women - who... well, takes an unnatural shine on kids, boys and girls both. And they exploit them…" the detective explained further, the next word always harder.

"What do you mean?" Blossom asked, unsure of what he was saying.

"It's something I was hoping the three of you won't have to know about, at least until you're older - much older," the detective went on after taking another puff. "Not all adults see your innocence as something to be cherished, and today, it's just our luck we get to deal with the worst of them." Blossom and her sisters were still confused as to what Mister Mullens meant, but she didn't have time to be confused for long when he nodded in the direction of something - someone. "But we won't be alone in this today."

The Girls turned to look in the direction the old detective was nodding at. Two more men were walking up to them, one of them dressed a little more like a classical detective - or a gangster - and another with tattoos covering his entire body. The top he wore, which was just a small vest baring midriff, parts of the chest and his arms, was flaunting it.

"Meet Detective Jack Wednesday and his associate, Felipe Hernandez," Detective Mullens introduced. Jack Wednesday was a detective who was considerably younger than Mullens - a man who looked like he was only a few years older than Olivia, at his early 30s at most. He wasn't the same bruiser-type, looking more like the sleek and smart sort of detective, not too tall, not too muscular. Too smart for most gangsters, but sometimes too smart for his own good. He was a rising star in the TPD on the fast track, and with crime's corrupting grip on Townsville seemingly weakening, he was able to rise even further.

"Pleasure to meet the three of you - it's great to finally work with the famous Angels of Justice," Detective Wednesday greeted the Girls. He extended a hand to each of the Girls, who shook it awkwardly as they recognized the gesture but had rarely ever used it. Before the Girls could speak, however, he'd already gone on. "Call me Mister Wednesday. I heard the three of you love using that title. Anyway, I was once in the juvenile division and now I'm putting my foot into vice, starting with this case."

"But what are we doing?" Blossom asked again when she was finally allowed to speak, though, with this Jack Wednesday character, that window was much smaller and tighter. Her question, this time, however, had put hesitation in even the energetic Wednesday. The younger detective exchanged looks with the elder, then with Olivia, before returning his gaze to Blossom, his hazel eyes hardened, but unable to help but display sympathy for her.

"We need at least one of you to go undercover with us as a… merchandise. We'll be busting a child trafficking ring, and it's going to be a big one, with hundreds of kidnapped children to save and many major ringleaders - and their underlings - to arrest," Mister Wednesday explained. "If we pull this off, the children of this city will be much safer, once and for all. No one will dare to sell a kid for a pound of marijuana in this city again once they know the three of you are on the case."

"Girls, this will help me put the Amoeba Boys behind bars for a very, very long time," Mister Mullens added. "Our favorite sewer drug lord confessed that the Amoeba Boys have been protecting them in exchange for a cut of the child trafficking money - if we can pin it on them, they'd be locked away for life - for sure. Even some of the corrupt have reservations about child exploitation."

"The plan's simple enough, I'm sure you kids will manage-" At this, Blossom felt vaguely offended, but Mister Wednesday continued without noticing the change in her expression. "-Because of the traffickers' way of doing things, one of you will have to go in as a kidnapped child while smuggling in a GPS device - courtesy of your USDO pals. The device will reveal where the traffickers' hideout is. Using a computer in my van, I'll find out where you are, inform the few hundred undercover cops in The Strip, and bust the trafficking ring before they knew they were in for it," Detective Wednesday explained, at length, the plan, again leaving no room for a two-way conversation. "I know this is a lot to ask from you - whichever one of you - but I can't use regular kids, you understand, right? Right - so who's volunteering?"

"Wait - what will the other two of us do?" Blossom asked.

"Help bust the child traffickers, of course," the newly-minted vice detective said.

"Um… I would go but…" Blossom said, conflicted as to her decision. "I'm the leader, and I have to lead my sisters." She looked at Buttercup with a worried look on her face, then to Bubbles, with her expression changing to one of coldness as a single look at Bubbles' had reminded her of the perceived betrayal. "I need Buttercup because she's the toughest of us three."

"M-m-me?" Bubbles stammered when she realized that all eyes had turned to her. "But I can't!"

Blossom glared at Bubbles angrily - thinking that Bubbles was at it again, being her usual, cowardly self. Couldn't she see that it was the best way to do things? Taking Bubbles by the arm, Blossom pulled her aside roughly behind Mullen's car to have a private conversation with her.

"You're not getting out of this one, Bubbles!" Blossom chided her meekest sister.

"But I can't! I'll just mess up again!" Bubbles cried as she stared at the floor, afraid to meet Blossom's glowing pink eyes, eyes that did too well in expressing anger.

"You said you wanted to be a normal little girl," Blossom tried to hand out the carrot. "Now's your chance to act like one."

But Bubbles wasn't having it. She knew that acting as a kidnap victim did not constitute being a normal little girl.

"Bubbles, look at me," Blossom ordered her sweetest sister when she realized Bubbles wasn't nibbling on her carrot like a bunny. When she wouldn't respond and was instead mewling pathetically in fear, Blossom raised her voice as the stick: "Look at me!" Reluctantly, Bubbles obeyed, though it was a hard thing to do, looking at those glowing pink eyes that were burning with rage and showing dislike towards her. She had to really force herself to look at them. "Do you want me to forgive you for what you did in the woods?"

"Y-yes…" Bubbles replied, her eyes dancing between Blossom's eyes and her eyebrows, then her lips, and back and forth.

"Do you want us to play together again?" Blossom asked, unaware that she was more like Mom than she would like to be, just like what she said.

"Yes…" Bubbles replied predictably.

"Then go in as a normal little girl," Blossom delivered her ultimatum. "Do it, and I'll forgive you and we'll play together again."

"But what if I-" Bubbles tried to say, but was cut off again.

"It's the only way, Bubbles!" Blossom said impatiently, nearly raising her voice once again, displeased that Bubbles could not see things her way. Putting her hands on Bubbles' shoulders, she tried to do things her Dad's way: "We'll help so many people - children like us!"

Bubbles remained silent. This felt wrong - everything felt wrong, and in The Strip, no less.

"Bubbles, you're my sister and… I'm sorry I've been mean towards you," Blossom tried again. "I still love you, Bubbles. Won't you do it for me? I promise I'll forgive you - I won't leave you alone again."

Bubbles nodded curtly, totally unwilling, but agreeing only because it meant redemption in Blossom's eyes. They then returned to everyone else who had been waiting on them, with Blossom's hand gripping Bubbles by the upper arm.

"Well?" Detective Jack Wednesday asked. Blossom and Bubbles stopped before them, and when Bubbles wouldn't answer his question, Blossom gave her a jab of her elbow, prompting her to act.

"I'll do it, Mister Wednesday…" Bubbles said reluctantly.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip, Outer Edges.**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2147.**

"I don't like this…" Bubbles said as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was inside Detective Wednesday's van, and she had undergone a complete do-over. She had swapped out her uniform and tactical gear for an expensive white dress, let her hair down and dyed it brown. She had to put on black contact lenses that blocked out the glowing light from her eyes (mostly). Even her own sisters, who were with her in the van, had trouble recognizing her after that.

"It won't take long at all, so bear with it," Detective Wednesday said dismissively as he was leaning into the back compartment of the van before he had to lean out again - his veteran colleague had been jumping on his back because of this.

"Isn't there any other way to do this?" Detective Mullens made his disapproval known. "We're still talking about a little kid here!"

"I'm sure It'll be fine. Unlike other little kids, Bubbles' got all her 'enhanced abilities' and all that, as the USDO likes to call them. She can't be hurt or restrained, isn't that right? I was there when the USDO announced their deployment," Jack defended himself at length.

"That's not what I'm-" Detective Mullens tried to object, but he was cut off very quickly.

"Therefore, her life and limbs are secure and we have nothing to worry about, not that anything could happen to threaten her - it wouldn't take long for us to track her down and start busting down doors, and the child trafficking ring does not damage their own goods. Even in the event that she has been sold and taken away, which is unlikely in the time frame we're working with if you can do the math, she'll easily be able to rescue herself through the application of her enhanced abilities. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a vice operation to run," the younger detective had spewed out even more points just when everyone thought he had run out of it. Getting back into the back of the van, he closed the door and called out for his associate, Felipe, to start driving, leaving the Girls' more familiar friends to take up their own positions.

"Now, let's run through the whole thing once again in case the three of you have trouble remembering everything," Detective Wednesday said to the Girls, turning to Bubbles especially. "You remember everything I told you, bubble girl? Repeat them to me again."

Depressed at what she was being forced to do to win back Blossom's love, Bubbles had nonetheless done everything she was told to the best of her abilities. She'd run through everything the detective had told her over and over again even as she changed her outer appearances.

"My name is Anastasia Summers and I am the 5-years-old daughter of a well-off grocer from California. I was kidnapped at the airport while I was on vacation and brought straight here," Bubbles recited her cover story.

"Good. I didn't think you have it in you," the detective praised Bubbles, though the little girl felt vaguely insulted instead, not that she let it show - she wasn't about to try anything that could ruin the whole operation, whether the potential consequences of her actions and words were real or imagined. She wanted Blossom to smile at her again, to play with her and comfort her again whenever she was down, and she wanted it all so badly. She couldn't imagine spending another day with Blossom frowning at her and treating her like an enemy. "Now, let me run through the ground rules for you once again: Do not use your enhanced abilities. Do not reveal who you are. Do not resist the bad guys - just do as you're told. And act your part - act gutless, helpless and hopeless. Cry and scream when appropriate. Blend in."

"Okay…" Bubbles agreed - not that she had a choice. The rules were easy enough - she essentially had to do nothing and be the coward that Blossom and Buttercup thought she was. That Bubbles thought she was. It seemed like an easy ticket to win back Blossom, and yet it didn't give her hope. It all felt wrong somehow.

"And we'll hide in here until it's time to go," Blossom added after Bubbles had said her final word. Blossom and Buttercup were sitting in cardboard boxes, among many others and all sorts of other random junk.

"Right. Now for the final layer of disguise…" Detective Wednesday said as he pulled out some things from a cardboard box - a blindfold, rags, and ropes. "Just calm down - you'll be fine. Or don't, if it helps you act the part. Who knows? You might be on your way to becoming a Hollywood actress."

With that, the detective began tying Bubbles' hands behind her back, then blindfolding and gagging her. When Bubbles started crying, her bawling muffled by her gag, Buttercup found it satisfying, and actually liked Bubbles better that way. Blossom became concerned at what she was putting Bubbles through, but she didn't let it show. She told herself that it was the only way Bubbles could contribute - something which Bubbles herself would want if only to feel useful and helpful to her friends, the citizens of Townsville.

It was all for the greater good. Even though Blossom did not know the expression, she was thinking the same thing.

* * *

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Reply to Guest: Don't worry about asking some uncomfortable questions or saying some controversial things. I'd be happy to respond. First: Buttercup's background. It's true that some Caucasians have black hair, but statistically, there's more Asians with black hair than Caucasians. Furthermore, this universe's Townsville has a Little Tokyo with a million Japanese living there, and since Buttercup's DNA was sourced from Townsville, there's a very high chance one of the Girls will end up having some Japanese DNA - and that's not counting other Asian minorities. I think it's more unlikely that Bubbles ended up with a Swedish immigrant's DNA lol.

The reason why I made Buttercup 25% Japanese is due to the above, as well as how Buttercup was portrayed in the source material. The ethnicity of the Girls was never explored. However, Buttercup was shown to have an affinity for Japanese/Chinese culture (though not extensive), and it inspired me to vary the Girls a little - if only to ground the series in reality, as well as to open more doors. Hence, Blossom is the most 'American', having 3rd generation Irish-American DNA, Bubbles having Swedish DNA and Buttercup having 25% Japanese and 75% 'American' (more like Russian-descended) DNA. This also plays to the fact that the idea of the 'American' is really a whole bunch of immigrants coming to the US at some point or another, starting, of course, with the British in the early colonial times, with many, many other Europeans and other old world people of other continents coming in one time or another as well.

The scooby-doo talk was unavoidable in my universe because it's bound more by reality. A dog's mouth simply can't form human words as well as a human could. It's a miracle that he could even be understood - and I think I broke some rules of reality doing that. Just look at Mishka the Talking Husky on Youtube lol - though to be fair, Mishka didn't have the intelligence of Stanley.

Also, I didn't know that the writers of The Powerpuff Girls favored Bubbles more. Darn, I really need to up my game, don't I? Can't call myself a PPG fan that way...


	21. Chapter 18: Vice (Part 2)

**Chapter 18: Vice (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Abandoned Warehouse.**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2204.**

A white van with the typical washing-machine logo of an unremarkable laundering business printed on its door pulled up in the back alley of an old building, an old warehouse that had become a haunt for illicit and criminal activities. Four muscular men guarding the back door came forward with shotguns, rifles and machine pistols. A woman in a coat stood between them, a slender pistol in one gloved hand.

The backdoor of the van opened, and out came what appeared to be a gangster of the Lombardi type, pushing out a little girl who had been blindfolded and gagged with her hands tied tightly behind her back. Her frightened whimpers were muffled by the gag and the ball of rags in her mouth.

Felipe Hernandez came out from the cab of the van.

"Katerina, my friend!" the tattooed Mexican greeted the woman with open arms and familiarity. "We meet again!"

The woman raised her pistol instead, cocking it, and so did her armed guards. Felipe, however, didn't look surprised.

"Fancy for you to show up here, Enrique!" the woman screeched, the paranoia in her voice was not a mystery, unlike herself. "You're in the wrong block, 'friend'. We don't do drugs here – as a business, I mean."

Felipe laughed, and he didn't let down his arms because of the guns pointed at him.

"You know about the USDO, bella chica," Felipe explained. "I sold everything while I can. I've decided to start a new what-you-call-it? Business venture."

The woman looked at the little girl Felipe's accomplice had brought along. When the little girl backed away, the 'Lombardi gangster' seized her by the arm and pushed her forward. Felipe waved a hand at the little girl in a white dress.

"My first product - what do you think?" Felipe boasted. "I'll be bringing only the finest merchandises from now on - for a price, of course. Something tells me there's a niche in luxury goods."

The woman seemed distracted by what she saw - perfect skin, perfect cheeks. Well-conditioned hair and a good, healthy physique. It was obvious that the 'product' had been well taken cared off before she had been abducted. She wanted to see more of her. Coming up to the little girl, she ripped off the blindfold. A pair of tearful, beautiful dark brown eyes stared back at her. Those eyes were pretty, almost glowing, even. They were full of character - an instant winner.

"So ah… I'm new to this whole gig. How do we do this?" Felipe asked, looking like he had scored a lottery ticket. "We negotiating here or what?"

The woman returned her pistol to Felipe's forehead again.

"You're damn right we'll negotiate here. We run a tight operation, it's how we've been doing this for years," the woman explained to the Mexican at gunpoint. Her eyes went down to the little girl before coming back up to the Mexican again. "I'll give you five hundred greens for the girl."

Felipe didn't look happy with the woman's proposal. A master of deception, he'd faked his immoral dissatisfaction big time, impossible to tell from the real thing.

"I want two thousand, no less," he said. "C'mon, it wasn't easy getting this kid from the Townsville Aerodrome - and it's my first time doing this. Give a working man a chance to break into this, will you?"

"One thousand, 'working man'," the woman haggled, her pistol still trained on Felipe's forehead - the Mexican didn't seem too bothered by it. "It's not my problem where you got her from."

"One thousand five," Felipe counter-offered calmly.

"One thousand, two hundred - accept my offer now, or accept my bullet," the woman forced the deal. "I'm getting impatient, newbie."

"Fine - man, you drive a hard bargain," Felipe said almost casually, hiding the triumph he felt with the nervous smile and laughter of a defeated man. "You've sure gotten better ever since our drug days."

"Another word out of you and I might put a bullet in your pretty Mexican brain," the woman said crudely before nodding to one of her bodyguards, clearly offended by what he said. The bodyguard slung his shotgun on his shoulder, took out a paper bag from his jacket before pulling out some cash from it. After counting an appropriate amount, he handed the dough over to Felipe roughly before giving him the stare.

"Okay, okay… She's yours," Felipe said before nodding to his own man, the Lombardi-looking gangster. He pushed the little girl forward into the arms of one of the child-traffickers. She struggled against him, but could not break free and run away. "Pleasure doin' business with you. I'll come back with more chickens for you to sell."

With that, Felipe and the gangster - who was actually Detective Jack Wednesday going undercover - got back into their van and drove off, leaving behind the little girl, who was actually Bubbles in disguise, with a GPS tracker sewn into her dress.

"Wow! Where did you learn to talk like that, Mister Hernandez?" Buttercup asked after getting out of cover from behind a stack of boxes.

"Too many years working undercover, that's how," the Mexican, who turned out to be another cop, said. "The line blurs too much sometimes. I envy you, little miss - you know exactly where you stand as one of the good guys - or good girls."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Child Trafficking Front)**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2235.**

After being sold, Bubbles was taken to another vehicle to be transported elsewhere, not that she would know the location as her blindfold was put back on. She was taken deep into The Strip, into the deepest parts of it where the cops would look the other way, and illegal prostitution, trafficking, gambling, and drug dealing and using proliferated.

As one of her cronies drove the van, the woman and one of her bodyguards were all over each other, making out and running their hands over each other. They had struck gold - like predators of the African savannas, they had hunted well. Years of experience in child trafficking had honed their ability to pick out the best pedophile material. 'Anastasia', not that they bothered to learn her name, was a good pick. They hadn't expected much at first when one of their messengers had given them the heads-up about a new player in the business. But now, they were going to earn tens of thousands from a single child. Hundreds of thousands, even. She knew of at least a few rich clients who would be visiting the auctions, one of whom had his own dungeon filled with children who had never seen the light of day for years. 'Anastasia' would be a welcome addition to it.

The road they had taken was like the jaw of a crocodile through The Strip, to avoid suspicion and the rare idealistic detective. It might have lengthened the journey time, but there was no rush - their method had kept them safe for years, with hundreds of kids sold and counting.

When the van finally stopped, Bubbles was led out of it in an unexpectedly gentle manner. The child traffickers didn't want their 'product' to be damaged after all, nor do they want her to panic as she would be harder to control and move.

When Bubbles' blindfold was finally taken off again, she found herself in a bedroom of some sort, with red lighting and a heart-shaped bed, no doubt a twisted satire of love. The smell in the room was horrible and unthinkable, impossible to understand to a little girl. Unknown to Bubbles, she was taking in a noxious fume comprising of cigarette smoke, booze and bodily fluids from every possible human orifice. She finally saw one of her kidnappers clearly for the first time – a woman in her early 30s with an Eastern European look to her. She looked up at her, but the woman simply pushed her, forcing her to sit down on the heart-shaped bed. Bubbles couldn't help but feel filthy upon touching it.

"Look at you, such a beautiful young thing," the woman said in a sultry voice. She wiped Bubbles' tears away as she caressed her cheek. "Don't be afraid. You're going to be loved by everyone you meet. What's your name?"

"Anastasia…" Bubbles lied, but then she remembered her fake last name. "Anastasia Summers. Please don't hurt me…"

"But I won't, and neither will they," the child trafficker boss said. "I'll make sure of it – you're safe with me." It was a convincing lie. Had Bubbles been a normal little girl, however, she would have been none the wiser. The voice and the face were convincing.

"I want my Daddy…" Bubbles cried, and she didn't have to fake it. She was not supposed to use her superpowers, and any number of things could happen to her if she didn't. "Please…"

"Shh… Hush, little puppy," the pedophile appeaser whispered to Bubbles, putting a finger on her lips. "This is how it's like to grow up. Believe me, I know. My advice to you? Try to enjoy it. That's a very good line, by the way. Work on it."

Outside, the rowdy sound of people shouting numbers unnerved Bubbles. Just what was going on out there?

"Ten thousand for the black bitch!" someone outside screamed like a maniac.

"Twelve thousand!" another shouted, pure competition in his voice.

"Five thousand for the redheaded boy!" another man shouted, the lust in his voice not held back at all.

"Sold!" a more authoritative but uncaring voice declared.

One of the woman's bodyguard came in, and for a moment, the voices outside were louder.

"A hundred for that filthy little wench!" another man shouted.

"Going once, going twice…" the authoritative voice called out. The door closed after that.

"We're in luck, Katerina," the man, a guy in a pair of singlets and jeans and boots, said, sounding like he had won a million bucks at the lottery. The truth wasn't as grand or lucrative, but it was as close as he knew to striking the lottery. "He's coming, said he'll give her a try before buying first."

"How much is the rent, Jac?" Katerina asked, "Did you mention the rent?"

"We agreed on a thousand," Jac said. Katerina smiled. Bubbles didn't like the sound of it.

"And this is what you get when you build trust with your customers," Katerina quipped before turning to Bubbles. "You hear that, Bubbles? He really loves you. And now… it's time for you to get prepared."

Katerina loomed over Bubbles, who tried to get away by crawling over the bed. The woman seized her by her legs. Bubbles had wanted badly to use her abilities - she'd wanted to fly off into the night and never come back, but she remembered what Blossom said.

"NO!" Bubbles screamed, her voice high-pitched and shrill, every bit of it authentic as she felt trapped by both her surroundings and her crime-fighting duties. She felt hands seizing her dress, and before she knew it, it was torn away from her.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Mussel Street.**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2255.**

Detective Wednesday was working on his computer when the unthinkable happened. The bubble on his map that indicated Bubbles' location had disappeared. With GPS systems being in its infancy even with the USDO, the computer was struggling to triangulate her exact location when the 'estimated location bubble' had stopped shrinking, jumped around at random before pulling a disappearing act.

"God damn finicky electronics!" the younger detective swore in frustration.

"What's going on?" Buttercup asked when she looked up at Wednesday – she had been making paper boats with the waste paper found at the back of the van. She'd left it up to Blossom to worry about Bubbles.

"The GPS just… stopped! I won't be able to find Bubbles like this!" Detective Wednesday said. His eyes darted between his computer and the radio. Waiting for the GPS to start working again could put Bubbles in hot water - he'd downplayed the threats she could face for the sake of the operation and busting a major child trafficking and pedophilia ring. In truth, by abstaining from the use of her enhanced abilities, she ran the risk of child molestation at least and rape at worst.

Calling on all units to do a block-by-block search of the areas highlighted by the GPS as probable locations of Bubbles could take far too long, alert all criminals within the child trafficking ring of their activities and cause them to flee - at which point, it would be impossible to arrest all or even some of the offenders. Hundreds of children would be lost that way with only a few abandoned by their captors. The child trafficking ring would then remain intact, relocate and start over again. Thousands more children would be kidnapped and sold, and scarred for life.

"But… Bubbles!" Blossom exclaimed. Her mind was previously clouded by anger towards her meek sister, but now there was regret and worry, and wonder as to whether she should have taken her place. "What do we do!?"

Jack Wednesday continued to stare into the screen of his computer, sweat pouring down his face. Despite the front he enacted to show the others, he wasn't a thoughtless and ruthless man. The idea of putting a child in the position to be raped did not sit well with him. Hell, before his promotion to lieutenant and part of the vice squad, it was his duty to prevent that. However, when he rationalized the mathematics - either save one child (whose duty was to enforce the law anyway) or hundreds (whose only duty was to grow up) - it quickly became clear what the best decision was.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Child Trafficking Front)**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2258.**

Bubbles sobbed as she held her new dress closely to her chest, unsure of whether to feel disgusted by it and strip it off or to treasure it just like the previous one. It was loose-fitting, likely to make it easy for removal later. Unlike the previous dress, it was black, which was all the better to hide any filth that might result from what would come next.

Katerina handed Bubbles' white dress to Jac for disposal. He walked out of the room with it nonchalantly.

"I saw your scars just now," Katerina said, referring to the three ugly marks on her arm. Unknown to the child trafficker, it was the result of the fight with the Purple Man, and too little time had passed before it could disappear. "Must be your dad, isn't it?" Bubbles shook her head at the accusation, tears still dripping.

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me. I can promise you that it won't happen again - unless it feels good for you or your next 'daddy'." she went on further. "Looks good on you. Makes you look used. Some men and women like that." Bubbles hated the woman. Selicia, even in her blackest mood, would look like an angel next to her. In trying to put some distance between them, she moved deeper into the heart-shaped bed.

'Blossom, Buttercup… Please hurry up," Bubbles thought as she watched the woman like a wary little kitten.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Mussel Street.**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2259.**

Detective Jack Wednesday's face was on the keyboard of his computer as innumerable fears and worries were wreaking havoc within him. He'd tried everything - rescanning for signals, diagnosing the GPS program, restarting the program, restarting the computer, banging the monitor of his computer and praying silently to whoever would listen from outer space - nothing worked. His past failures returned to haunt him.

In a city as wretched as Townsville, someone like him could only solve seven, maybe eight out of ten of the cases that were handed to him, at least on average - and he was the best in his field, which had its own taboos. His boss got to decide what kind of cases to hand over to him, and he could only try not to think about what had gone unreported, and what cases had been ignored, then closed prematurely when his supposed superiors decided to look the other way.

There was only so much he could do whenever he decided to secretly go rogue, break into the cold cases division and solve a few more cases on the side, burning the midnight oil, usually to roll the dice and either find some tiny skeletons in some obscure backyard, or a few severely mistreated kids whom he couldn't get to in time before they were marked for life.

This operation was supposed to be like a Mecca to him, something to chase away his nightmares and ghosts, perhaps redeem him for his failures, real and imagined.

And it wasn't going very well. He had been left totally in the underworld without a ray of light to follow…

Until Bubbles' 'probable location bubble' came up again.


	22. Chapter 19: Vice (Part 3)

Reply to Guest: Yes, I did it so well apparently that I was blackmailed for it. As long as you remain civil, feel free to speak freely.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Vice (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Child Trafficking Front)**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2300.**

Katerina opened the door to Bubbles' rent room to peek out. There were footsteps in the distance - Bubbles' hearing was good enough for her to discern it from the raucous bidding happening outside.

"I want that Vietnamese girl for two thousand!" someone made another offer.

The woman turned back to Bubbles, whose heart sank even further than she thought it could when she did.

"Looks like he's here," the child trafficker said. "Don't worry, I know him intimately. He's gentle as long as you are, and he'll treat you real good too as long as you do the same."

A hand, sleeved in expensive cashmere wool, shot out from the opening at the door, widening the gap. A man in his thirties, undeniably handsome and well-dressed and likely well-connected, even hard-wired into the society of the city, appeared at the threshold. He looked at Bubbles with the softest gaze, his eyes blue like hers. Had Bubbles met this man on the streets, she wouldn't have known that he would be found in a place like this. She would have liked to talk to him, or even befriend him.

"My, you weren't kidding about the girl," the man said to Katerina, before giving her a peck in the lips and a stack of hundred dollar bills. "Where did you get her from?" The woman thought about it, and it occurred to her that she hadn't bothered to find out where she was from.

"Anastasia, where are you from?" the child trafficker asked Bubbles, who was visibly sweating as her mind was racing with some crazy ideas on what would happen next. Her question had gone unheard and unanswered as Bubbles, for a crazy moment, hoped that the man was only here to read her a story, or play with her. "Anastasia Summers, don't make me ask again."

"Ca-California," Bubbles found it surprising that she remembered her cover story.

"Ah, California. I've been there too many times. It was sunny and beautiful there, last I checked. Full of hot girls too - no wonder Hollywood's there," the man said, before turning to Bubbles again. "Do you want to be an actress, Anastasia?"

"Y-yes…" Bubbles said - and she wasn't lying. She'd seen the TV, and she wanted to be there, and not while she was fighting one criminal or another.

"I'll leave you to it then," Katerina said as she left the room. "Holler if she's giving you trouble."

"You know me. They never do," the man said to the child trafficker before turning back to Bubbles. "Be sweet to me and I can make that happen, Anastasia Summers. That's a beautiful name, by the way."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Mussel Street.**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2301.**

Detective Wednesday felt like hollering at the computer. Despite regaining the signal from Bubbles' GPS transponder, it was an intermittent signal, disappearing and reappearing as if on the whim of some trickster god. It'd never shrunk by any substantial size, and the whole 'probable location bubble' was the size of nine city blocks. Even with hundreds of undercover cops, it would take forever to search through them. Scattered throughout The Strip, some of them would be out of range. Almost all would likely be searching the wrong buildings if they had to go through nine city blocks.

"This is Mullens! Where the fuck is my go-ahead signal!?" the older detective was practically screaming on the radio, though it was likely due to the volume. Detective Mullens sounded dead worried, desperate even. They both knew what could happen to Bubbles, even though Wednesday had downplayed the threat.

"Just wait, damn it!" Detective Wednesday snatched his radio off the table and shouted after pressing the 'speak' button. "I'm working with some shitty instruments here!"

Blossom felt like she could have a meltdown there and then - she'd begun fantasizing about busting through the van and all the buildings on The Strip to find her sister, but she was smart enough to figure out that it wouldn't work out that way. For all her powers and enhanced abilities, she felt helpless.

Buttercup, on the other hand, was nodding off. A sliver of drool was slipping down her lips. It was way past bedtime.

Detective Wednesday stared at his computer, begging for it to do better - as far as he was concerned, it was his only option for now.

And somehow, it'd worked. The location bubble began shrinking again, slowly at first, before doing so rapidly. He jumped at the development, staring hard at the screen, making sure that he remembered where the bubble was highlighting least it disappeared again.

What was once a gigantic bubble covering nine city blocks became the size of four, then one. Then a quarter of it. Good enough. Had to be. The younger detective grabbed his radio.

"This is Lieutenant Wednesday to all units, location confirmed!" he was practically screaming into the radio. "Storm The Blue Moon, Gold Pole Strip Club, Backside B2B, and Your Inqueery Hotel, now!" He turned to his partner in the cab: "Felipe, drive!"

"Which?" the Mexican-descended undercover cop asked. Wednesday hadn't considered that. Between a bar, strip club, adult business office, and sex hotel, which would make the best front for a child trafficking ring? They all looked like the right answers. And now they were all starting to look like the wrong one.

"Backside B2B, now! Step on it!" Detective Wednesday ordered. The van screeched into a jolting start soon after that.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Child Trafficking Front)**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2301.**

If Bubbles wasn't terrified, she was now. The man, who called himself her new 'daddy' and 'lover', had chained her wrists to the bedposts, and she wasn't supposed to use her superpowers. 'It's so you'll know what's right', the man had said. The cuffs were loose, but tight enough that she couldn't wriggle out of it. They were strong enough that she would need her enhanced strength to break loose.

"I'm helping you here, Anastasia," the rich man said as he slipped out of a bathrobe and crawled up to her in bed, with nothing but his boxers on - this fact alone traumatized Bubbles immensely, as the last time she saw an adult naked was back when the Highway 13 incident happened. There were a whole bunch of them even, back in the strip club with the strippers. That was when she understood that naked adults were bad. "You'll grow up quickly, and you'll love it."

He reached for her dress and pulled it down gently. Bubbles mewled in fear - although she hadn't fully grasped the concept of shame in its entirety, she knew she wasn't supposed to be naked in front of anyone except for Dad, Mom, and her sisters – with the only exception being Blake, who became her governor when Dad was too sick at one point to care for her. How she wished they were here now!

"Please don't…" Bubbles begged for the man to stop.

"You know, I like it when you girls do that," the man remarked as he leaned in close to her - they were staring face-to-face such that Bubbles could smell the man's breath - and it was deceptively refreshing, minty and lemony. "Makes it more satisfying when I finally break you and make you come around to my way of thinking."

And with that, he kissed her in the cheeks as she shivered in terror, then the mouth - which thankfully did not last long. He ran his lips down her neck and Bubbles could feel a shiver going down the same area. He ran his filthy hands down her legs and body. "Don't worry, I've got a long track record."

"No! Stop!" Bubbles pleaded with the man. She hated the sensation of flesh and saliva on her skin. She hated everything that was happening.

"Shh…" was the man's only reply. "This is how love is made. How you were made." Not that Bubbles really knew. Not that the man really knew how Bubbles was made, or who 'Anastasia' really was.

"STOP!" Bubbles screamed in her high-pitched voice - the last straw had been the feeling of her panties coming off. "NO!" She threw the man off with just her legs, who fell off the bed with a surprised yelp. He rose from the floor, looking mad and incredulous that such a thing could happen. He slapped her savagely, and it was when Bubbles looked back around at him, the anger coaxed out of her, that the man knew that something was wrong with his newest prey.

One of Bubbles' black contact lenses had fallen off, revealing the glowing baby blue underneath it. Angry that she had been violated and made to feel helpless, Bubbles had completely forgotten about her undercover job. With an effortless jerk of her arms, she snapped off the chains tying her to the steel bedposts above her and let off a sonic scream, which blew the child rapist away. He slammed against the door.

Her scream could be heard throughout the entire building. The windows of Bubbles' rent room, which was papered over, exploded outwards. Some sort of alarm had sounded off in the building, and people could be heard screaming. As the pandemonium spread, Bubbles pulled up her panties properly and cocooned herself with the bedsheet from the heart-shaped bed. Floating herself to a corner of the room, she began sobbing as she hid under the dressing table there.

Her near-rapist, with blood slithering down his ears, eyes, and nostrils, stood up with difficulty before disappearing through the door and screaming that the USDO and The Three were in the building.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Child Trafficking Front)**

**9 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 2305.**

Blossom, Buttercup, Detective Wednesday and Felipe could hear it from a mile away. The sound of windows breaking and numerous vehicles driving off in a hurry. Bubbles' sonic scream. The policemen didn't like the sound of it. It wasn't a part of the plan, nor the expected planned chaos.

"This is Lieutenant Wednesday, how many units at the Backside, over?" the detective bellowed his question into his radio as if it had offended him.

"There's two of us at the front," one of the units reported. "We're the first ones here."

The news hit Wednesday like a car in a dark alley. He'd attended raids before, organized a number even whenever his cases had gotten big enough. He could see bad news from a mile away, with or without the smoke signals.

"Anything to report, over?" the detective interrogated his radio like a suspect.

"They're, ah, not using the front door. The other units didn't make it in time," the police officer on the radio said. "Lots of vehicles driving away from the back. Our suspects are getting away. I'm sorry, sir."

"This is Mullens. I'm heading there now," the older detective said over the radio. "The Blue Moon's legal."

"All units in vehicles, pursue all vehicles coming from Backside B2B!" Jack Wednesday ordered through the radio like a pissed-off drill sergeant with a class of failures. "All vehicles from there are to be considered suspicious!"

The detective leaned back. The computer's useless now. To Blossom and Buttercup, he looked like a wreck. It was no wonder why: whatever had happened with Bubbles in the adult business offices had acted as an early warning to the child trafficking ring. They'd evacuated and it would be futile to try to chase them down.

Shortly after that, Felipe pulled the van up in front of the offices. He jumped out with his pistol out, and so did Felipe. Blossom and Buttercup practically flew out, floating above the van.

"This is Wednesday. The Three are at the Backside Offices. I repeat, The Three are at the Backside Offices," Wednesday put out a PSA for his fellow cops over the radio. They went in straight immediately, but the place was deserted. Blossom and Buttercup went through the lobby and main office space on the first floor, as well as the recreation area. Their guns were out and Blossom was keeping her heat beams charging, but there was no one to use them on. The rooms were all empty, and the bad guys had left in a hurry; the lights were still on, dim though they were, and the drinks, cigarettes in their ashtrays and condoms were still there. The criminals had taken everything illicit with them. There wasn't even half a dollar bill left that could be linked to them.

"I think I hear her," Buttercup said as she floated over the stage area of the recreation room, which, unknown to her, had been used as the auction area.

"Hear what? I don't hear a thing!" Blossom exclaimed aloud, still confused as to how Buttercup could hear so well when she scored lower on the hearing score. Buttercup did not reply, but instead flew towards a door and opened it. Blossom followed, and they both peeked into the room. It was lit in red, with a heart-shaped bed in the center. Blossom could finally hear something, what amounted to sobbing and sniffling.

Detective Wednesday and Felipe came up behind them just as the two of The Three entered the red-lit room. Coming up to a dressing table, Blossom and Buttercup had finally found her – Bubbles had been crying and hiding there, with a foul-smelling bedsheet wrapped around her tightly. There was the jangle of chains whenever she moved.

The detective muscled past them to see what was going on. Bubbles, despite the trauma she suffered, saw that she was safe, and came out from under the dressing table. She let go of the bedsheet, such that it became looser.

"What the hell did you do!?" Detective Wednesday accused Bubbles, who shrank away from him. The detective, however, was more preoccupied with the results of the operation than her.

"I told you the ground rules! Don't use your abilities! Don't reveal yourself! And you didn't listen!" He bellowed at the little girl. Before he could lecture Bubbles any further, a cop in plain clothes appeared at the doorway. A man in a baseball cap and leather jacket.

"Sir, we've found a few kids," the police officer said. "They were on the second floor, probably ran off and hid when the traffickers were evacuating."

"How many?" Detective Wednesday asked without taking his eyes off of Bubbles.

"Five of them," the officer said, before eyeing Bubbles and frowning at her as if she was a pest. "Looks like we've done some good, sir." He disappeared from the door.

"Can't say the same 'bout them 'Angels'…" the police officer's voice trailed off but made an impression.

"Five of them," the detective repeated his subordinate's words, his eyes still on Bubbles, who cringed at the way he looked at her. "Five. Did you know how many kids were here?" He didn't wait for an answer. "An estimated three hundred. Three hundred kids. Some your age, a few younger. We could have saved three hundred," the detective had said this, forgetting that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were not even 3 months old. "We could have saved more throughout the city had we caught those traffickers and made them talk."

"Weeks of work - weeks of preparation and hope, flushed down the drain just like that…" the detective went on. He stared daggers at Bubbles, who was still crying where she sat. "You Girls aren't what you're cracked up to be."

Severely disillusioned, the detective simply turned around and walked away, too shocked and disappointed to reprimand the Girls any further. Instead of redemption, he'd found damnation - and another road deep into the bottle.

"DAMN IT!" the detective shouted halfway through the room, kicking a stool that happened to be close by, breaking the furniture against the wall. And then he was gone. Felipe took a sympathizing look at Bubbles, apologizing with his eyes, before following his fellow detective out the door.

Bubbles stood up, her eyes still on the red-carpeted ground.

"Blossom..." she said, her voice a near-whisper. She was shaking, and in pain on the inside. She'd let go of the bedsheet wrapped around her entirely as she reached out for Blossom, desperately a little something – a human touch free of taint. Anything. Her wrists were still cuffed, and broken chains dangling from them. One of her eyes was still dark brown because of the contact lens while the other was free and baby blue. She looked odd this way. "I'm scared… Please hold me…"

Blossom pushed Bubbles back, and she bumped into the dingy old dresser she was hiding under. Her bedsheet fell all around her. Buttercup flashed a sadistic smile at Bubbles when she had become almost entirely naked once more, save for her panties. Having learned shame the surest but hardest way, Bubbles folded her arms over her chest.

"I gave you a chance, Bubbles!" Blossom said coldly as she stared daggers at her. "Did you hear what Mister Wednesday said? We couldn't save hundreds of kids! Hundreds! I can't imagine-" And she wasn't kidding - the Girls had barely learned the concept of numbers running into the three digits. Therefore, numbers that were three digits or more were as what anything above the quadrillions was to an adult. It was an unfathomable number.

"Mister Wednesday said there's more than three hundred," Buttercup added with a mischievous grin on her face as she observed Bubbles for a reaction. Bubbles sniffled and had to hold back a sob. Her words had only served to make Blossom even angrier at Bubbles after being reminded of the terrible truth.

"Do you know what those kids must be going through now?" Blossom reprimanded Bubbles in place of Detective Wednesday as tears prickled her eyes. A single drop drew a near-invisible line down her left cheek. "He told me what they're going through while we were waiting in his van. Those children were kidnapped and they didn't get to see their mom and dad for days! Weeks! Even months and… Years!" As the Girls hadn't lived over a year, the idea of a year - a time period comprising of twelve months, was just as unfathomable as numbers that ran into the hundreds. "They were made to do things they hate and they didn't get to play!"

"But-" Bubbles was about to say more when Blossom cut her off.

"No buts! You've done it again, Bubbles! You've ruined everything!" Blossom scolded.

"You don't understand! It was horrible!" Bubbles screamed desperately as tears and mucus spilled from her face. "They were hurting me! There was a man doing disgusting things to me! He was- he was touching me and- and-"

"I DON'T CARE!" Blossom yelled back at Bubbles, her temper deteriorating once more as Detective Jack Wednesday's words continued to torment her. The fact that there were more than three hundred kids in the same boat all over Townsville drilled at her psyche. The leader of The Three clutched her head as if it was about to explode, digging her nails into it. She snarled incoherently at Bubbles after that. "YOU JUST HAD TO DO NOTHING! NOTHING!"

"You look fine to me, Bubs," Buttercup added dismissively just to upset Bubbles further. "Better than how we were when you didn't help us with the Purple Man."

"Blossom… Please! I'm scared… it's cold, and dirty and… I'm really upset…" Bubbles begged and pleaded and mewled as she tried again to hug Blossom. "Please…"

"Get away from me!" Blossom exclaimed unsympathetically as she pushed the half-naked Bubbles away again, this time hard enough for her to knock into the dressing table. She fell down on her butt and didn't get up. Neither did Blossom let up with her tirade: "You gave up on hundreds of kids just because someone touched you! You're selfish! You're useless!"

"Don't forget 'cowardly'. Forget it, Bloss. She's not hardcore, not like us." Buttercup continued taunting the helpless Bubbles as she stood beside Blossom like a little devil whispering evil suggestions into her. Bubbles could only look on at her toughest sister in utter dismay.

"You hear that, Bubbles? Buttercup's right. I've had it with you," Blossom went on coldly. "You can't seem to do anything right. You can't fight, and when you get to act like a normal little girl, you couldn't do that either."

"Why do I even have a sister like you?" shaking her head, Blossom turned around and walked away, her love and care for her sister so diminished that it didn't worry her that she was sitting on the floor of an abandoned place, without clothes and suffering from trauma and feelings that were beyond terrible.

"Phew, I'm tired - I can't wait to get some hot chocolate and bedtime," Buttercup wished casually as she followed Blossom, well aware that it would upset Bubbles even further.

"Blossom, please don't go…" Bubbles continued to call out to Blossom, but she was completely ignored. "You said you'd forgive me! You promised!"

"BLOSSOM! BUTTERCUP!" Bubbles screamed one last time but by then, both her sisters had disappeared through the open doorway. They had left her there, and even when she half-expected them to come back with arms folded and 'learned your lesson?' on their lips, they didn't.

By the time Detective Mullens, Olivia and Stanley Talker got to her, she was totally unresponsive and rocking herself where she sat, mumbling to herself incoherently as her soulless, still-teary eyes stared into space. But there was something she kept repeating:

'Don't leave me.'


	23. Townsville Tribune Extract 10 FEB 1989

**Townsville Tribune Extract 10 FEB 1989**

The following are newspaper articles taken from the Townsville Tribune on the date of 10 FEB 1989. The newspaper articles are selected based on relevance to Project Powerpuff and B-47, B-48 and B-49.

* * *

(This article is found on the front page, with a picture of the current pope, John Paul II, standing behind a grand podium, giving a speech.)

**CATHOLIC POPE DECLARES THE THREE 'NOT DIVINE'**

In a widely publicized statement yesterday, Catholic Pope John Paul II reveals the Catholic church's stance on Townsville's The Three, also known as The Angels of Justice, to a massive crowd of tens of thousands. As the pope and the Vatican Council deliberated on their decision when it comes to the status of The Three - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup - the Christian community was in upheaval ever since their appearance.

Drama ensued when churches battled with each other for their voices to be heard - with some believing that they were angels from God, while others proclaiming them to be the works of the Devil himself. Within the Catholic sphere, the advent of The Three and their rise to fame ever since stopping a terrorist attack at the Morbucks Industries Research Laboratory had resulted in some within the Catholic denomination jumping the gun and declaring them to be divine, resulting in their excommunication. They have gone on to form Catholic cults, creating what appears to be a new denomination of Catholic or Christian faith, now thousands strong.

It was amid this crisis of faith that the pope finally makes his announcement that The Three are not divine in any way - that they are not a new 'trinity', or angels, or representations of God himself. Neither are they manifestations of the Devil or demons. They are to be considered worldly creatures, though whether they are humans possessing souls or merely animals, flesh made animate and given intelligence by the ways of man, is a matter best left to the schools of theological debate.

Critics of the Catholic faith contend that Pope John Paul II's decision is steeped just as much in politics as it is in faith. Had the pope announced that The Angels of Justice were divine, they would have looked bad as they had excommunicated thousands for making the same conclusions. Had the pope announced The Angels of Justice to be literal incarnates of evil, it would mean advocating resistance or even hostility against them and the USDO. Thus, their declaration that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup are worldly is the most tactful decision - a most worldly decision.

The pope denies politics to be a factor in his decision when interviewed in a press conference following his address, stating that it is grounded in the Bible and voice of God.

* * *

(This newspaper article is found in the politics section of Townsville Tribue, page 8)

**TOWNSVILLE POLICE OFFICIALLY REVEALS NEW LAW ENFORCEMENT UNIT**

The Townsville Police Department has officially pulled the veils off of a newly formed branch of Townsville's primary law enforcement service. In a press conference yesterday, Commissioner Davis reveals that planning for the new law enforcement unit had started ever since the Highway 13 Incident perpetrated by Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup of The Three. When questioned if it is a unit created to rival the USDO and even combat The Three, Commissioner Davis denies such a claim, stating that the TPD and USDO are in a close partnership to fight crime in Townsville, and that the TPD now fully trusts Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup to assist them in doing the same.

The new TPD unit is called the STARS - the Superiority Tactics and Response Squad. While similar to the existing SWAT units, the STARS units are supposedly organized to be the elite of elites, modeled after the military, with some of the new recruits drafted directly from the various branches of the military, in addition to select members from the existing SWAT units and the cream of the crop from the investigative branches and patrol officers. Commissioner Davis states that they will be responsible for preventing and thwarting high profile terrorist attacks, as well as attacks made by enhanced individuals, also known as bioweapons, fielded by terrorist groups. As such, they will be heavily armed, again mirroring that of military units.

While their numbers are few at the moment, at around 50 members spread over 4 squads, evenly but thinly distributed throughout the city, they are projected to grow in strength over the course of the years after they leave their current trial stage.

When questioned as to what his involvement with the TPD's expansion is, Mayor Wilford has stated during the press conference that such a move would not have gone forward without his approval and admits that he has indeed signed the bill to introduce STARS into the local law enforcement scene.

'STARS will not be misused under my watch - we are not heading towards the dystopia of a police state and neither will our beloved Angels of Justice be subjected to their tactics,' Mayor Wilford stated in the previous day's mayoral press conference.

* * *

(The following is a lifestyle piece found on page 15 of the Townsville Tribune.)

**CITIZENS OF TOWNSVILLE WANTS THE THREE RENAMED**

In a poll conducted by Townsville News Network, it comes as no surprise in this day and age that the citizens of Townsville generally wishes to rename 'The Three'. This, however, is a general opinion. Out of roughly 1000 citizens polled, 59.5% wants them renamed, 27.9% do not want them renamed while 13.1% are unsure.

There are many reasons given for renaming The Three, with the top reason (34% of positive respondents) being a pride for the young 'superheroes', as some have started referring to them as. The second top reason (21% of respondents) given is in the veins of respecting the fallen in the early days of The Three and coming to terms with the past. Unsurprisingly, the third top reason (19%) is purely aesthetics – they do not like the current name.

In reality, however, one does not simply rename The Three. On official capacity, only the USDO possess the rights to amend their names. According to official sources, they do not even have a team name for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. Through the Freedom of Information Act, it is also revealed that they are usually referred to by the codenames B-47, B-49 and B-48 internally, and they were derived from an enigmatic project titled 'Project Powerpuff', of which no hard information has been released to the public yet. As such 'Subjects of Project Powerpuff' is what amounts to their current team name.

Even if official channels are bypassed by the court of public opinion, the citizenry will be too divided to force a change from the already established names. The news media, including this newspaper, will also have no reason nor justification to change the girls' names - the news media reports the news, and does not create it.

And finally: Would Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup take well to being called something else? Would it be ethical to force a name on Townsville's newest guardians?

These philosophical questions, however, did not stop the most creative and brightest of Townsvillans from coming up with their own names for The Three, below are some of the more popular ones collected from various sources:

_The Angels of Justice_ (3000+ supporters. Source: Church of The New Trinity. Rationale: Religious Conviction.)

_The Whoop-Ass Girls_ (1000+ supporters. Source: Townsville Harlem Corner. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_SWAT Girls_ (700+ supporters. Source: Townsville Police Department Precinct 11. Rationale: Function.)

_The Dynamite Girls_ (500+ supporters. Source: Townsville Youth Development Center. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_The Powerpuff Girls_ (500+ supporters. Source: Townsville Union of Journalists. Rationale: Aesthetics, Association with Project Powerpuff and USDO.)

_Tough Cookies_ (300+ supporters. Source: Hells Angels Motorcycle Club, Townsville Charter. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_The Hard Candies_ (300+ supporters. Source: Townsville Gentlemen's Club. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_The Powerpunk Girls_ (300+ supporters. Source: Hard Rock Café Rock Club. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_Little Power Girls_ (150+ supporters. Source: Townsville National Guards, 5th Infantry Company. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_The Space Marine Munchkins_ (150+ supporters. Source: Townsville National Guards, 6th Infantry Company. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_The Ultraviolets_ (150+ supporters. Source: Townsville National Guards, 7th Infantry Company. Rationale: Aesthetics.)

_The Rowdyruff Girls_ (100+ supporters. Source: Townsville Farmer's Union. Rationale: Criticism.)

_Sugarstar Sweets_ (80+ supporters. Source: Mommy Margaret's Bakery. Rationale: Commercial.)

At the end of the day, only the USDO is capable of naming the city's newest defenders and carrying out the will of the people - as a federal agency should. Will one of these names ever emerge as the dominant collective noun for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup? It appears that 'Angels of Justice' has been well-introduced to the vernacular of Townsville, beyond the confines of the new Catholic cults' church walls, but only time will tell what form their official team name will take, or if it will remain as the ugly and unwieldy 'Subjects of Project Powerpuff'.

* * *

(This news article is found on page 2 of the Townsville Tribune, main news)

**THE THREE BREAKS UP CHILD TRAFFICKING RING IN THE STRIP**

11 pm, 9 February. As the working week approaches its twilight, The Strip is abuzz as usual with entertainment and activity unabated all year round. Men and women gallivant on the streets, picking up other men and women and going into bars, strip clubs, casinos, and hotels.

As the sooty jewel of Townsville, The Strip has been the center of controversy in every arena of debate and action. For every election there is, there is always talk about Mayor Wilford's inability to rein back on The Strip, and there is always a counter-argument that it is better that The Strip exists in one place than every part of Townsville. A not-insignificant amount of wealth flows through The Strip, whether it be tourist dollars or local - it is said to be the second or third most profitable district in the city, depending on who is asking. It is a place where parents would warn children to stay away from, and yet at the same time are places some parents would go to.

It is also a place where the Townsville Police Department is known to look the other way every other second, where the vice cops respond only to the worst breaches of human decency. It is also something the USDO decided to change, and where The Three was involved yesterday.

Eyewitness accounts had filtered into the Townsville Tribune offices even before our journalists could interview the cops involved. Hundreds of undercover police officers descended on four buildings: The Blue Moon, Gold Pole Strip Club, Backside B2B, and Your Inqueery Hotel.

Two of The Three, Blossom and Buttercup, were seen at the front entrance of Backside B2B before they swiftly charged in.

'Bubbles was breaching the building from another entrance,' Detective Jack Wednesday, one of a few rising stars of the TPD, hero cop and known protector of children, asserted when questioned about why the third of The Three was missing. No eyewitness accounts could verify his statement, though it is possible that she was not seen due to the speed of her flight, and possibly stealth tactics.

The operation was conducted all in the name of saving 5 children, who the detective claimed was a tip-off from an informant. He also claimed that the disproportionate number of participants in the operation is not indicative of the size of the child trafficking ring they were raiding, and is merely an attempt to initiate more police officers into the worthy pursuit of saving children from the clutches of Townsville's vilest criminals. 'It is a training exercise in tandem with a real operation,' he added.

'In any case, we've broken the back of Townsville's bigger child trafficking rings - they'll be running scared after what we've pulled in The Strip. With the city's Angels of Justice on the case, they'd better run really fast, because they're going to catch up with them fast,' Detective Jack Wednesday had gone on further to claim when interviewed. 'They will need time to regroup and rethink their strategy, and in the meantime, we'll be hunting them down. Townsville's children are safe once more, thanks to The Three.'

While the heroics and justified heavy-handedness of hero cop Jack Wednesday have certainly not gone unnoticed, one cannot help but smell some fish among the less salty beverages of The Strip. While no doubt brimming with bravado and masculinity, Detective Jack Wednesday's previous exploits were resource-light even when his police chief had expressed that he had availed his entire precinct's resources to him whenever available. He was described to be a highly intelligent and resourceful investigator and crime buster. Thus, that he would throw an entire army of plainclothes policemen, and even The Three on top of it no less, 'just' to rescue 5 children and arrest no one on the crime scene seems suspicious per se.

Unfortunately, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup could not be reached for an interview. They were seen leaving the scene in a police vehicle shortly after the cessation of the police raid, with Bubbles oddly shrouded in a trench coat. Detective Jack Wednesday declined to comment when asked about this development.

* * *

(This piece is found in the Crimewatch section of the Townsville Tribune, page 24, which focuses on monitoring trends and statistics in crime and related facts as opposed to reporting on specific incidents of crime as the Main News section does.)

**CRIME IN TOWNSVILLE ON THE UPSURGE - LAW ENFORCEMENT QUESTIONABLE**

With the entry of the USDO and their now-famous The Three, also known as The Angels of Justice in some circles, crime had seemingly been crippled, and the perpetrators' unlawful activities on the way to the history books. January saw a 60% drop in major crime activities and 55% in minor offenses. However, as a quarter of February comes to a close, sources inside and outside the TPD indicates that half of those gains are now lost.

There are even experts claiming that the statistics might even have been falsified or inaccurate - though these experts are in the minority. The majority of experts within the TPD, USDO, government administration, and academic circles believe that the statistics did not account for 'potential crime', with much of the criminal underground in hiding and at large. With organized crime in Townsville considered the most sophisticated and well-organized in the entire United States of America, it is not out of the realm of possibility that a 'cease-fire' and 'retreat' had been called by the leaders of the underworld - mainly the Lombardi dons - after the major victory scored by the USDO and The Three in the Battle at Morbucks Industries Research Labs.

Now, it appears that the 'cease-fire' and 'retreat' instruction has been rescinded. While the USDO and TPD have been responding with equal opposing force, many have called into question the limitations of the law enforcement agencies operating in Townsville, and whether it will just be another long, bloody and ineffectual campaign against crime on top of the last two decades of terror and moral decay.

The TPD bore the brunt of criticisms, as numerous sources claim the police to be more corrupt than honest. While a few hundred arrests have been made by internal affairs over January and the first week of February, these are believed by experts to merely be a token gesture made by high-ranking corrupt officials, a diversionary tactic to keep the current status quo going. It is believed that the number of police, justice, and government officials on the payroll of any one or more criminal enterprises in Townsville nearly outnumbers the honest, or has already outnumbered them - the measurement of this metric is often hindered by numerous factors.

The USDO, although considered largely upright and incorruptible, has been criticized for their use of heavy-handed and unsuitable tactics in their war against crime. Previously an agency focusing mainly on cutting-edge technology for the betterment of the United State's military and law enforcement, as well as subterfuge, their switch to a more military-oriented mindset is seen as inefficient and overkill in a law enforcement scenario. Massive amounts of resources are often deployed to combat proportionately small groups of belligerent criminals. There are rumors that they are using illegal methods in their war against crime as well, such as torture, unlawful imprisonment and summary executions on both criminals and their own operatives.

The Three, or The Angels of Justice, comprising of Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, are widely regarded as a failure by most experts despite the limited success they have seen in arresting criminals, shutting down criminal enterprises and suppressing crime. Most critics point to their USDO-reported age of 5-6 years as a hot button for debate, for numerous reasons. The wide number of problems attributed to The Three's age and experience are cited as major factors resulting in the failure of certain operations, as well as putting a ceiling on the degree of success in more fruitful operations. The potential of their 'enhanced abilities', including the 'infrared beam' and 'sonic scream' or even the more 'mundane' enhanced physical performance, are thus wasted where it would have done many times the level of good in adult law enforcers. The most pressing of all is The Three's inability to rescue hostages alive and intact - something that even the 'traditional' SWAT team could do better with conventional weapons and tactics based on statistics. This is not to mention that the reality of employing little children in hard law enforcement is a huge problem in and of itself, and the USDO statement that they are 'not children' and 'not human' does little to stymie the tide of criticisms pointing out this fact.

However, there is hope yet - the very fact that this article could be printed where previously shorter token articles were made to assuage the public is a victory in and of itself. The rest of the United States is awakening to cheer Townsville on - the FBI, ATF, and DEA are now rumored to make a return to Townsville in the coming months after their disastrous attempts at assisting with law enforcement in the city in the past, joining the beleaguered TPD, USDO and Angels of Justice in the war against crime.


	24. Chapter 20: Deterioration

**Chapter 20: Deterioration**

**Pokey Oaks County? Pokey Oaks Woodland Reserve?**

**? FEB (?) 1989. ?**

"Bubbles? Bubbles?" a kindly feminine voice was calling out to Bubbles, no, it was singing her name. "Bubbles…"

Bubbles, however, would not respond to it. She had been surrounded by a horde of Purple Men, and she was too afraid, too scared out of her wits to respond to anything. At this point, anything and everything could be a trick.

"Open your eyes," the woman's voice said patiently. Bubbles felt coaxed into doing so, and when she did, she wasn't disappointed nor afraid any longer. The most beautiful and angelic being she had ever seen was hovering in the air before her, her face framed by golden locks of hair, her dress sparkly blue. She was held aloft by a pair of angelic wings, ethereal and mesmerizing. "It's going to be okay."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 1920.**

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The dreaded clown phone rang again, not even twenty-four hours after the previous one, the bad night that removed Bubbles out of Blossom's sisterhood round table permanently.

Blossom had been playing with Buttercup, as usual, falling into her tomboyish influence when it came to leisure. An hour earlier and outdoors, they were playing catch the way Daddy taught them – except the ball had flown as far as a few houses over, hundreds of feet into the air. However, they didn't play catch for very long as flying everywhere was tiring. Now, they were putting together a train set, stuffing plastic people into the passenger compartments and cargo, both normal and weird, into the freighter sections. There were logs in one cargo compartment and Velociraptors in another.

Bubbles had been staying in bed all day. She didn't even go to school when Blossom and Buttercup did. While she wasn't sick, not that she ever was, she didn't feel like doing anything. Had it not been for her Dad, she wouldn't even have eaten or gone to the toilet at all. She had to be dosed with a box of sleeping pills last night.

Last night had been running on repeat since Blossom had done a little tit-for-tat, abandoning her in the child trafficking front building just as Bubbles had left her for dead with the Purple Man. Had Detective Mullens not found her, she would have been left there, at least until Dad forced her to fetch her.

After Detective Mullens had found her, he'd put his trench coat around her, asked her gently what had happened before reassuring her that everything was going to be fine.

Before Blossom and Buttercup could leave, the old man had hunted them down and prevented them from being dismissed and sent flying home. He'd straightened things out with them, though Bubbles couldn't remember what was exchanged between them nor did she listen, because what had happened in the child renting room had been on her mind since.

Before she knew it, all three of them were in Mullens' muscle car. Olivia wasn't in it – she had taken the subway home instead. Straining her memory, Bubbles remembered that the talking dog had refused aggressively to go with Olivia. He'd sat between her and the other Girls instead, putting its front leg around her shoulder like a human pal as she leaned on him speechlessly, her mind a total blank.

She remembered what happened next when Mullens had personally sent them home. Mostly because her Dad was there. He'd rang the doorbell and Daddy answered it.

Selicia had ushered them inside and they sat around the coffee table in the living room. Blossom and Buttercup looked nervous, probably because they were afraid of getting into trouble. But Bubbles… Bubbles was still in that child renting room, still chained up and violated. She could still see herself in chains as she stared blankly at the wall of her living room.

"I'm afraid today's a bust," Detective Mullens had said, Bubbles somehow remembered. "It was bad, Mister Utonium."

"What were they sent to do, officer?" Bubbles remembered her Dad interrogate Mullens as if he was some criminal, a mix of firebrand accusation and horror in his voice. "What did you subject them to this time?"

"It wasn't me," the detective had defended himself. "I was just one of the foot soldiers today."

"That's what they all say. Aren't you a little too old to fall for the Bystander Effect?" Dad had criticized Mullens harshly.

"Look, I tried talking to the man of the hour!" Mullens had gone at length to defend himself, making himself look worst. "I tried talking him out of it! But it wasn't my operation, and I had to follow the chain of command!"

"Don't you shout at him!" Mom snapped at Mullens even though he didn't really raise his voice all that much. Mom was holding Dad's hand possessively for the entire thing. "Can't you see how hard it is to raise children like this?"

"Of course, ma'am, it's not that I-" the old man tried to clear things up, but was interrupted.

"Talk is cheap," the professor said to Mullens as if he was facing an enemy in a fight to the death. It was the first time Bubbles had seen her Dad this way, looking like he was ready to kill someone. "Tell me what happened."

And Mullens did. He gave them everything – Detective Wednesday's plan involving Bubbles, the child trafficking ring, the raid, and finally everyone's reactions when Bubbles broke cover prematurely and caused the operation to fail, condemning every kidnapped child (but five) in the ring to life as either manual laborers or under-aged sex workers.

"Is it true, Blossom?" Daddy had turned to Blossom when Mullens got to the part where Blossom tried to abandon Bubbles in the middle of The Strip. Bubbles had never seen her Dad so angry before. Even Blossom was terrified to tears of him.

"Is what Mister Mullens said true? Did you leave Bubbles behind?" Dad had asked with a voice shaking with restrained anger. "I want an answer, Blossom Utonium."

"I was just so angry, Daddy…" Blossom explained in tears. "All those children – She shouldn't have used her powers, Dad! She shouldn't have-"

"Don't you 'Daddy' me! Go to your room, Blossom," Daddy's eyes were shut when he demanded, as if he was in great pain, his voice seething with anger. Anger that could no longer be contained, no matter how dearly he loved Blossom. "Now!" The pink-eyed of The Three flew up the stairs, crying, but soon her wailing could not be heard after the door to her room was slammed shut.

"Buttercup, you'll go to my room," Dad had then said.

"What did I do!?" Buttercup snapped back, and Daddy didn't like it one bit.

"Don't raise your voice at me, young lady!" Dad yelled back, pointing at her before pointing to the second floor: "You should've defended your sister! Now get going. I'll talk to you later." Bubbles shook when he was shouting, even though it wasn't directed at her.

"Fine," Buttercup said, sounding like she had still done no wrong. She'd pouted all the way up to the second floor and slammed the door shut. There was silence after that. It was awkward to have a police detective witness all this. Neither was their family exactly a normal American family. In some far future, he would likely think back to this moment and thought it was like something out of a TV series.

"Don't be too hard on them, Mister Utonium," the detective finally said, trying to alleviate the tension. He was never good at that. Conversely, he had a talent for creating tension. "I'm sure they didn't know what they were doing. They're kids, after all."

"Don't tell me how to parent my own daughters, officer," Dad snapped at Mister Mullens. "And don't you dare patronize them again."

"I wasn't, Mister Utonium."

"Of course you weren't," the professor said defensively. He'd been on edge for far too long to do otherwise.

"Dad… Stop… please…" Bubbles remember herself pleading for her Daddy to stop chastising Mister Mullens, despite drowning in her own depressing memories, in her own miseries.

"I think it's time I take my leave, then," the old detective said with a sigh, realizing that he had overstayed his welcome. It didn't take long for him to ruffle some feathers, but he was used to it: he'd experienced it all the time when he had to visit the homes of his dead or injured colleagues or of victims of crimes. Within a few years of doing this, he'd thought of himself as a therapist or a counselor of the punch bag variety. For every slap, shout, accusation and insult he took, he was making the victims feel better. This particular incident, however, would stay on his mind forever, probably even follow him six feet under.

* * *

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The clown phone had continued buzzing in Bubbles' mind, implanted deep into her memories as a herald of doom.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_

_Bubbles! Bubbles! Bubbles!_ It seemed to scream at her. The clown phone sounded as if it wanted to drag her to some forsaken place.

"Bubbles! Bubbles! BUBBLES!" it turned out to be Blossom screaming at her after all. Bubbles had been lying on her side, facing an empty corner of the Girls' room. When she turned to face the music, she realized that Blossom had been looking down at her from above, floating in her tactical gear with her MP5, which was the length of her entire leg, in one hand. "Finally! Didn't you hear the phone? Get dressed!"

"I don't want to…" Bubbles said, her face a blank as she stared up at the ceiling. She turned in bed after that, again facing away from her as she lay on her side.

"General Blackwater wants all of us - I told him you wouldn't want to, but he didn't care," Blossom said, her arms crossed as she seemed to stand in mid-air. "I wouldn't have bothered with you otherwise. Now get dressed!"

Reluctantly, Bubbles got up, even with her mind still crowded by the past week's nightmares, real and imagined. She was still in her pajamas - not only did she miss school, but she had missed the day's patrol as well. Time had ceased to be a concept with her. There was only one time period now: the past, the horrible, horrible past.

Bubbles floated to the walk-in closet, trying her best to stay in the present, but the flood of bad thoughts kept washing over her like a tide at its highest, drowning her – and she was still chained in that terrible red room-

"Hurry up, Bubbles!" Buttercup shouted from the window, already impatient from waiting a few seconds. She'd been sore not just in body but in her mind as well - getting defeated by the Purple Man had made her really unhappy. It'd ruined what she thought was her day. The operation at The Strip was supposed to provide her with some fresh meatbags to make up for the Purple Man, but then Bubbles had ruined that. She wanted to make up for both today. "I want to punch some things! Man, what a slowpoke!"

A minute later, Bubbles was still not out of the walk-in closet yet, and Blossom had to fly in to help get her dressed. As it turned out, she had zoned out inside, while changing, and had only succeeded in removing her pajamas. The very act of removing her clothes had reminded her of the bad night, not that it was ever out of her mind.

The professor had entered the room while Bubbles was getting changed. By the time she was done, the professor was already sitting on the Girls' bed. On seeing him, she flew to him for a hug.

"Do I have to, Dad?" Bubbles was gripping tightly onto his lab coat. She didn't want to let go if she could help it.

"Does she really have to go, Blossom?" the professor asked the declared leader of The Three.

"Mister Blackwater wants all of us there. He said it's big," Blossom said, all the while trying not to look at her most pathetic sister because she knew she'd glare at her and Daddy didn't like that.

Selicia had walked in on them in the meantime. Buttercup wasted no time in embracing her. In the meantime, the security officer turned mom gave Blossom a warning through her stare, angry enough she thought it would turn red from green. That look alone scared Blossom – she didn't want to know what was next if she failed to keep Buttercup untouched.

"But I don't want to…" Bubbles mewled.

"Bubbles, look at me," the professor said as he stroked her cheek lovingly. Bubbles searched his eyes desperately, hungrily, hoping for some kind of magic in it. "I can get you out of this, believe me. I think I have a way out for you – the three of you."

"When can I stop doing this?" Bubbles could feel hope rising in her as she latched onto his words.

"Give me a few weeks. I have to make sure it's safe," the professor said.

"But I can't, Dad! I can't take it anymore!" Bubbles cried. She could feel small arms wrapping around her own when she did. Seeing Bubbles like this had shattered the professor inside.

"We have to go!" Blossom said impatiently. "See you later, Dad."

"Yeah, come on, you baby!" Buttercup added as she yanked Bubbles off of Dad before flashing a toothy, guilty grin at the professor when he frowned at her for her choice of words.

The Girls had to fly out a single port window because of Bubbles, with only two streaks of light behind them.

The professor looked on, feeling helpless and falling into despair. Selicia sat beside him and embraced him. It was all she could do – to be there for him.

"It looks bad now, but maybe Bubbles will pull through. She's slow to adapt to change, but she'll get there," she said in an attempt to comfort him. "It happened before, and it can happen again."

"And I'll make sure it happens," the professor said as he opened his eyes, wide and determined. Standing up, he marched out of the room and down to the lab.

"What do you mean?" Selicia asked as she followed him down.

"I've been hesitating for far too long!" the professor said. "Calculating and recalculating, going through the entire procedure over and over! Analyzing the same risk factors over and over!"

"Honey, what are you talking about?" she asked as they'd gone down the stairs and into the living room, barely keeping up with her 'husband'. His language had always been a mystery to her.

"The Anti-X, Selicia. I'm talking about the Anti-X," he said as they both got through the airlock leading to the labs.

"It's the only way Bubbles will pull through," he continued as they descended into the lab. "It's the only way they'll all pull through. They're not fit for law enforcement. They never were."

Below, dozens of potted plants were arranged neatly in rows and columns on one huge table, all of which were covered by bell jars. Some of them looked mundane, while others were fantastical. There were a few with glowing flowers – mostly sunflowers - and a few that could even move, with their flowers tracking Thomas and Selicia for some unknown reason the professor did not pursue. One of them shot a pea at them, only for the pea to bounce around in the bell jar.

When the professor got to his desk, he pulled a few pages of documents out of a drawer. Then something hit him. He froze.

'I'll think about it,' Blossom had said when he asked her to be more patient with Bubbles. It'd suddenly occurred to him where she got it from. While he was spitefully rejecting Mister Morbucks' plea for help on the phone, he'd turned to look at the Girls' door when he saw Blossom peeking at him from there, probably wondering why he was shouting. She'd heard it from him. Alice came to mind after that.

'Don't forget who you are. You're a good man, and you shouldn't let anything change you,' Alice had advised him back on Saturday, 'The Girls look up to you, Tom, and if you break and become something else, so will they.'

He'd never taken the advice to heart. Much as he liked Alice as a friend, he'd never liked her psychiatric perspective - too little science, too much wriggle room that could lead to mistakes and misinterpretations.

Until now. She'd been right all along. Blossom was changing because of him - whether his role was big or small did not matter. He'd changed her in some negative way.

"Thomas, what's wrong?" Selicia asked, very concerned about the way her lover had frozen up over the desk. She came up to him, putting a hand on his back, letting him know that he wasn't alone.

"Am I a good man, Selicia?" he asked. He wasn't even sure anymore, after everything. Had he changed and taken Blossom down with him? "Am I still a good man?"

"Yes," Selicia said without reservation, without pause, without a hint of trickery or cunning - something she'd do for Thomas and Thomas alone. "You've always been a good man, since the first day I saw you. I love you - and I mean it - because you're what I can never be."

The professor reached for the phone after giving Selicia's words some thought. Picking up the receiver, he paused, then realized he was missing the number. He searched for it through the cardholder and after failing to find what he was looking for, went to the wastepaper basket instead. It was where he found it - a card with gold and silver trimmings and a crown in the middle, all crumpled up but very well-made with the name in the middle of it unmistakable. He started punching the numbers in and put the phone to his ear.

The phone ringed in his ear as if deciding whether to act on the professor's little confession.

It beeped continuously, forcing a pregnant pause as if letting him decide to slip back down the hole.

Until eventually, it relented.

"What is it now?" a deep voice, hoarse and exhausted, answered the phone. "I've already told you, I can't attend that board meeting! Can't a man have a peaceful moment to himself these days!?"

"It's Professor Utonium," Thomas said.

"It's you," the man on the other end said defensively, apprehensively.

"I'm sending the Girls to Elodie," the professor said.

"You- you are?" the man on the other end said, sounding like he'd just witnessed a feat of true magic.

"Yes. Now, they're involved in another mission today, so chances are-" the professor had tried to explain the terms, but Mister Morbucks was so grateful he couldn't stop to listen.

"Thank you- Oh thank you! Really- Thank you so much-" the billionaire sounded like he was crying, on all fours, even.

"Chances are, they'll only be able to make it tonight, if even that," the professor continued explaining without pausing to acknowledge the rich man's gratitude or feelings. "Or if they come back injured, probably tomorrow, or the day after. Maybe you should tell Elodie they're coming. It'll cheer her up."

"I had to lie to her constantly that they're coming, this entire week. And when they didn't, I had to lie that they were caught up in something. Saving the day or building a house for the poor or some other excuse that… tears at my soul," Mister Morbucks let off his deepest thoughts, surprisingly, before catching himself and stopping it. "I can't thank you enough-"

"Don't thank me, Morbucks," the professor said coldly. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for your daughter, and mine." And with that, he slammed the phone down. He hunched over his desk, wondering if he was doing the right thing - wondering if, like all his other good intentions, he would just end up hurting someone again. Selicia embraced him as he agonized over his decision even when he'd made it, putting an arm around his shoulder.

"You did the right thing, Thomas," Selicia said. "You've always done the right thing."

"Selicia, honey, I need to work now," the professor then said, the determined look on his face still unchanged. "I'll be with you when I'm done." Realizing that he might have been a little insensitive when Selicia's expression changed, he pecked her in the lips as he caressed her face - a way for him to express his apology and love.

"What about the wedding photos?" Selicia asked - they had been planning to have a family photo with the Girls, and the plans had to be pushed back constantly whenever the Girls came back looking like they'd been through a war zone - though that wasn't far at all from the truth.

"Maybe next week," the professor pushed it back again, even further. Upset and disappointed, Selicia left him alone and went up the stairs leading to the surface. With her gone, the professor began walking away from his desk. Walking past the supercomputer and the Chemical X storeroom - he'd been stockpiling on Chemical X lately - he came to a special glass room tucked secretively at a corner of the lab where no one had gone to. He switched the lights on in the glass room.

In the center of the glass room was a metal table that was made to the size of the Girls, resembling an X with a rectangle in the middle, looking oddly like some space-age sacrificial altar. There were shackles on every limb of the X. A tray full of medical instruments was sitting beside it. The entire table was made of Duranium, with legs that went deep underground, secured to the foundations of the lab by steel and concrete such that it would be impossible to lift the table without lifting the entire house. The professor had ordered it built over the past couple of weeks the moment he realized that Anti-X was a real possibility. It was built little by little while the Girls were out, expedited by Wiggums, the head of USDO's logistics arm himself until it was done.

But it was more than just a precaution. Buttercup would certainly not give up her powers willingly. Would Blossom? No, he decided that neither would she - she had become very invested in helping others with her enhanced abilities. He was only confident that Bubbles would relinquish her enhanced abilities when given the chance. For the rest of them… It would be better that it be him who forcefully take it away rather than someone else. It was something only a father should do if it came to that, he decided…

For the Girls' own good.


	25. Chapter 21: The Descent (Part 1)

**Chapter 21: The Descent (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 1930.**

On the way to the crime-in-progress, Bubbles was flying behind her sisters and in the wake of their X-haust light as usual. Blossom and Buttercup were chatting happily in the meantime, about how it was great to be back in school once more, about what they would be going up against this time around, and how they would go about dealing with it.

Bubbles, of course, was completely excluded from the conversation, but the conversation itself soon died down quickly when Blossom and Buttercup discovered that they had run out of things to talk about.

Without external stimuli, Blossom soon drifted into her own thoughts, going back to the previous day, when Daddy got angry with her – really angry.

She remembered crying all the way into her room and staying there, just like what he wanted. She'd hoped that he would no longer be angry if she did. Looking outside one of the round windows, time passed quickly as she became buried in her own thoughts, in the injustice of it all: why should Dad be angry with her when Bubbles had been the one at fault? Not only did she fail to save Buttercup at one point, but she'd also failed to save them both - her very own sisters! On another occasion! And that was not to mention the three hundred other children too!

Hadn't she forgiven her enough, back when they were just starting out in law enforcement? When she'd abandoned them during the fight against Junior, one of the Amoeba Boys? Or when she failed to board an escaping car, failing to end the Highway 13 Incident before it became severe? Buttercup did not fail to mention, either, that Bubbles had abandoned her to Naga.

The door to her room soon opened, and in stepped her father, with his arms crossed. Blossom was snapped out of her moody introspection.

"Blossom," he'd said her name in a way she had never heard of before – a way that was brimming with negative emotions. Now, she had seen the other side of her father, the side she had never really seen before. "I am very disappointed in you."

Blossom turned around. She had stopped crying, but the feeling of being misunderstood never went away.

"But it's not my fault!" Blossom argued.

"Which part!? Is it the part where you left your sister behind, naked in some dirty place!? Or is it the part when you pushed her!?" the professor accused. The words he said had disarmed Blossom completely. The way he'd said it had painted a terrible picture she could not hope to defend. "Huh!? Which part!? You tell me!"

"Three hundred children were missing because of her!" but Blossom was going to try anyway. Tears were already streaming down her eyes. "Kidnapped!"

"And is that what you want for your sister!?" the professor barked at Blossom, who shrank away from him in fear – he had never talked to her that way before. "Because that could have happened had it not been for Mullens! Townsville is a very dangerous place, little lady! Mojo Jojo or Naga or someone else - I don't know who - could have been watching nearby!"

"But she's been leaving us behind!" Blossom stubbornly continued to defend herself. "It wasn't the first time!"

"You know what, I think you're right!" the professor shouted, further infuriated by Blossom's sudden lack of empathy and wisdom. He started towards Blossom menacingly.

"Dad? What are you doing!" Blossom screamed as she saw the way her Dad was coming towards her - without the same love he always showed, and with malicious intent.

"You're perfectly right! I should throw you out for abandoning Bubbles!" the professor said as he marched up to Blossom as she backed away, knocking over a stool with a teddy bear. "I should even offer you up to Jojo or Naga as a peace offering!"

"Dad, NO!" Blossom screamed as she darted away, accidentally knocking down a mountain of soft toys.

"Let's see, who should it be!? Any ideas, Blossom!?" Despite her speed, the professor was able to catch hold of her."I'm sure they'll take good care of you!"

"NO!" Blossom screamed as she yanked her hand out of her Dad's grasp and sped away again, this time hiding behind her pink kiddy table.

The accusation, what the professor said – how right the professor was had made Blossom lose control and cry like she never did before. The convincing act he'd put up to make his point had made it even worse - even Bubbles would look better in her usual crying fit if Blossom was melting down next to her. So much so that it'd snapped the professor out of his anger and forced him to put an end to his act prematurely.

He had to go back to being the nurturing dad. At first, Blossom was constantly backing away from him whenever he tried to come close, but she eventually accepted a hug from him and wet his shoulder thoroughly with her tears. It took a very long time for her to calm down, which was uncharacteristic of her.

"Blossom, as hard as it is for you to believe, it's not Bubbles' fault," the professor had gone on to explain when she had calmed down and entered a kind of receptive daze. "It wouldn't be any of your faults if any of you did something wrong. The three of you weren't supposed to be out there."

"But you said we're special, and we're supposed to fight crime," Blossom sniffled, still hugging her Dad. It was at this point that the professor wished that Blossom was more forgetful. It was challenging to think of a way out of what she remembered.

"But the three of you are kids, too," the professor reasoned. "And fighting crime – that's an adult's job. Maybe the three of you should start only when you're older…"

Despite everything her Dad told her, she could not bring herself to forgive Bubbles. But she knew that Dad loved her, and so she resolved to be less angry with her, perhaps even eventually forgive her despite the consequences of her mistakes, when enough time had passed and she'd done something - anything - to make up for it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Silver Age Cineplex.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 1952.**

It became apparent quickly where the crime in progress was the moment they saw the heart light in the sky and the facade of the building that was surrounded by the police and USDO. The signs on the roof, box office, and posters were designed to attract attention, and they had done just that.

But it seemed that something else had succeeded better in attracting attention: the number of police and USDO vehicles and manpower deployed was enormous. At the front alone, there were something like six squad cars and a few SWAT vans, as well as just as several humvees and a couple of APCs. Just as many vehicles were on each side of the cineplex, partly out of necessity as the building was huge, and had served as the main center of entertainment for the entire tenement area.

The Girls swooped in and landed as soon as Blossom saw where Mister Blake was, and he was with the usual suspects: Mullens, Olivia, and Stanley.

"The movies?" Blossom wondered aloud the moment she landed. "What is there to steal in the movies?"

"Beats me," Olivia replied as the group formed a circle to plan their raid on the cinema. "There's not a lot of money and valuables to steal in there. They're after something else. Maybe something they can't just steal."

The group crowded around the hood of a humvee, where they had laid out a map of the cinema - apparently, the criminals in there had been holding hostages, and had been around for a couple of hours. Hostage negotiations had come to a standstill, preceded by delaying tactics on both sides. Conflict became the only option, but when it was apparent that there would be heavy casualties no matter which point of entry they used, they decided to call in Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.

"We're not dealing with your run-of-the-mill criminals here," Agent Blake had gone on to explain the situation. "We have reasons to believe that they are affiliated with a cult. Eyewitness descriptions fit the bill - some of them wore strange robes and accessories or had equally strange markings on them. And there's a lot of them, something like twenty or so of them at least, mostly holed up in cinema 3 of the cineplex based on our observations."

"But what does that mean? They're still normal people, right?" Buttercup had asked naively.

"Cultists… They're not very normal if you ask me," Mullens had answered her instead. "They're going to be really dedicated to whatever they've been asked to do by their leader. They'll do whatever it takes, even if it means sacrificing themselves."

"Do they have superpowers? Like us?" Blossom inquired. The detective thought her question was very pertinent for a three-month-old, even if naïve.

"No, of course not," the old detective said.

"Then they're easy," Buttercup assumed. Blossom, in the meantime, had noticed something worrying however: Bubbles hadn't been listening. She was staring at the bumper of the humvee, her eyes distant, and evidently so was her mind. The leader of The Three could not help but to glare at her.

"So Blossom, any idea how you want to do this?" Mister Blake asked.

Blossom did not answer immediately, as she was momentarily distracted by Bubbles' lack of attention and participation.

"How about like before? Bubbles could use her sonic scream and we could fly in to save the hostages," Blossom proposed. Looking back at Bubbles, she was certain that her mind was still in some other world - a castle in the sky, for example. She put her hands on her hips and glared at her some more.

"That's a little run-of-the-mill for the three of you, but it could work," Detective Mullens said, all the while ignorant of the tension growing between Blossom and Bubbles.

"But what about the hostages? Won't the sonic scream hit them too?" Agent Blake asked. Blossom, however, did not catch his question.

"Bubbles. Bubbles!" Blossom shouted at her sister to try to catch her attention. Quite infuriatingly, Bubbles had withdrawn herself to such a state that she didn't hear her.

"BUBBLES!" Blossom screamed one last time, the loudest she could muster, to the point where she was turning heads several squad cars or humvees over.

"Huh?" Bubbles vocalized absentmindedly, half-stuck in the past. "What?"

"Were you listening just now?" Blossom interrogated Bubbles. "What did we talk about, Bubbles?"

Bubbles did not answer, knowing full well that she had missed everything, and knew nothing about what was going on in the situation.

"How many bad guys are we fighting today, Bubbles?" Blossom questioned her coldly, shaking with anger.

"Urm… Ur… Nine?" Bubbles had to take a wild guess, basically giving her the largest number she could think of.

"Fine - do you know what you're supposed to do this time?" Blossom jabbed at Bubbles further, her patience strained by Bubbles' error.

"I don't know…" Bubbles said, still so preoccupied with what happened the previous night that there was little room left for anything else.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Buttercup remarked from the side, more out of mean-spirited spite than surprise and disbelief.

"What is wrong with you, Bubbles!?" Blossom hammered at her with her rhetorical question, as she gesticulated wildly.

"I don't… I'm sorry…" Bubbles tried to explain, but she was struggling to do so - there were things in her head that she didn't want to talk about, not in such a public place, and then there were things she could not put into words. "I just…" She'd continued to stare at the ground, her hands clasped together in front of her as she didn't know what else to do with them.

"Hey, Blossom," Agent Blake tried to break it up. Blossom did not even hear him. "I think you need to-"

"You're useless, Bubbles! Useless, useless, USELESS!" Blossom screamed in blind rage as memories of past difficulties caused by Bubbles came up, and the real possibility of more pain and failings caused by Bubbles had enraged her. In her wild rage-filled imagination, she believed that the hostages inside would die and all criminals involved would escape because of Bubbles. Dad would then somehow be mad at her again, Buttercup would be injured and then her Mom would punish her, likely in an imaginative, painful way. It was all too real and vivid that it might as well be a reality to Blossom. "Dad told me to forgive you! But you're USELESS!"

"I HATE YOU!" And before anyone could stop Blossom, she slapped Bubbles hard enough that she'd slammed into the humvee face-first, at which point, Mullens and Olivia had to risk their lives to restrain Blossom before she could harm her own sister any further. Thankfully, Blossom had cooled herself off when she realized who was stopping her.

"Rur-rles? Are you rokay?" Stanley Talker asked, very concerned. He nudged Bubbles in the arm with his snout.

Bubbles had broken in a cry late. The slap and her face planting into the armored plate of the Humvee had shocked her at first. Turning around, she sat on the military vehicle's bumper, covering her face as she finally bawled. But when she realized how low she had sunk, how badly she had screwed up and how many people were looking at her, she took off, her baby blue streak of light looking like an uneven streak of tears. She'd gone at maximum speed, taking everyone by surprise, going through some dark alley and likely several streets over.

"Oh great, now we'd have to go after her or Dad's going to go crazy about us leaving her," Buttercup moaned in frustration. Detective Mullens, in the meantime, had lost it. He forcefully took Blossom by the arms and plopped her down on the humvee's hood hard enough that her butt hurt.

"You lil' pipsqueak! That how you treat your own sister!?" he scolded Blossom, and she didn't like that one bit. For one thing, he'd used the same word as the time he gave her a ride-along, back when they weren't friends yet. Then there was the fact that the detective had told on her and Buttercup, causing Dad to go ballistic on them. What kind of a friend would do that?

"Didn't you see her, Mister Mullens? She wasn't even listening! She wasn't even trying when she should be working harder!" Blossom defended herself.

"Did it ever cross that little mind of yours that you were being a little heavy-handed!?" the detective scolded, pressing a finger into her collarbone. Blossom didn't like that one bit.

"Like how you used to talk to me?" Blossom talked back. The detective was taken aback by both her memory and audacity, at how she'd dug up the past. Behind him, Olivia was crossing her arms and glaring at Blossom.

"You're getting a real mouth problem, you know that?" Detective Mullens chided.

They would have argued further, had it not been for a window breaking on another front and the sound of gunshots back and forth breaking them up.

"I have to find Bubbles, Mister Mullens," Blossom said as she floated and brushed past his shoulder. "Dad will be mad if I leave her behind again."

Agent Blake stood in her way, blocking her not just with his body but with their friendship.

"There's no time, Blossom," Blake said. "We need you in there now. People – hostages and police officers both – will die if we wait."

"But what about Bubbles?" Blossom asked, torn between listening to Blake and going her own way, torn between her love for Bubbles and her anger.

Yes, it was a bit of a problem. The USDO agent's eyes went to the ground as if to search the floor for answers, only to actually find it there for once.

"Stanley Talker, I know you don't like me because of my affiliation, but…" Agent Blake said, tried to be delicate with the dog's 'feelings', if it had feelings analogous to a human's. "You're the best person to find Bubbles right now – I know the two of you have bonded well, and we humans don't have the same tracking skills as you do."

"Hrrrrr…" the talking dog glared at Blake through his ballistic lenses as he sat on the ground, contemplating and still disliking the man because he worked for the USDO.

"You've seen Bubbles. She needs a friend – I can't get to her but you can," Blake went on further. The talking dog got up shortly after he was done talking, then padded towards the alley Bubbles flew through.

"Rrrr… Don't think that Ri'm doing this recause of you," Stanley Talker said sternly to the USDO human before sprinting away into the alley, faster than any dog ever could.

"Will the two of you be able to handle it alone?" Blake asked Blossom.

"Pfff, we'll be fine without her," Buttercup answered the question for Blossom, scoffing at their apparent 'need' for Bubbles to be in their team. Blossom couldn't even find it within herself to object to it. Deep down, she loved Bubbles, but recent events - an entire week of it, had shown that Bubbles just wasn't cut out for fighting crime. "Miss Goggle-Eyes will just cry for no reason and ruin our plans anyway."

"We'll have to go with or without Bubbles," Blossom said, avoiding the question tactfully, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. She looked up at Blake, some indescribable fear overtaking her as she did. She didn't even know what she was afraid of or for anymore – was it for herself, or Bubbles? Or of her enemies? Or Mom? Was it the fear of losing her friends and their approval? "Those people need our help…"

"Right… We'll be right behind you, and closer to make up for Bubbles' absence," Agent Blake decided not to pursue the matter, and with that, he started barking orders for his men to prepare for a breach.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Near Silver Age Cineplex.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2003.**

Bubbles flew from one alleyway to another, caring little about what was around her. Cars would screech to a halt or even crash in her wake. People were startled or knocked aside.

And she wasn't just crying – she felt her control slip away entirely – a common occurrence, but not in front of everyone. When she realized she'd given in to her bad memories once more during such an important moment, she couldn't help but feel ashamed, and it was worse when Blossom slapped her. It'd hurt inside more than it did physically.

Blossom had changed, and she blamed herself for it. Had Alice just been comforting her all along? Lying to her that she wasn't wrong just to keep her happy?

Or was Alice right all along? Had Dad been right to coddle her? She did not like the uncertainty of not knowing one bit.

Bubbles had kept on going for a while – she'd kept running until she could feel aching everywhere as she felt drained from the speed. It was only then that she stopped, and after deciding that she had run away far enough to avoid being seen by her friends and sisters did she finally settle down.

Sitting down on a boxy old television screen, she burst into tears, sobbing in the dark where no one would listen. It was better this way, she thought with whatever little presence of mind she had left. Because no one would get angry or get hurt this way.

"Poor little girl… So misunderstood and utterly misused," a voice came from the dark, startling Bubbles out of her despair. It was feminine and rich in pronunciation as if spoken by a well-read or cultured person.

Bubbles jumped to her feet and would have lit her eyes up to brighten the alley had someone else not done it for her. From deeper in the alley, a woman floated down from high above, glowing brightly with white light, looking like an angel. She even had wings too, resembling that of a dove's, or an angel's. Touching down on the filthy, muck-covered snowy floor of the alley with her silver shoes, the woman – or angel – came towards her, covered in a dress that wasn't just blue like the sky – it was sparkling. Her hair wasn't just blonde – it was golden like the promise of a good morning. A satchel bag hung on one shoulder - it was the only thing that wasn't shiny, being dark blue. In one of her gloved hand was a wand that ended in a star. In the other was a handkerchief, which she used to wipe Bubbles' tears away.

And the enhanced little girl allowed her to do it, without suspicion or doubt, as she had exhausted her capacity to think by then. Neither did it seem like she had anyone left to turn to – and the woman, pure in the way she looked, pure in the sense that she was never tainted by the horrible events of her life, felt like the only avenue for comfort left.

Bubbles sobbed anew as the angelic stranger caressed her in the same cheek that Blossom slapped. The woman hugged her for some time, patiently cooing at her until she stopped shaking and crying.

"You… You're the woman from my dreams…" Bubbles mumbled after taking a second look at her.

"That was me, yes," the woman admitted.

"But who are you?" Bubbles finally asked. "Why are you being so nice to me? When even my sisters…" She couldn't finish her sentence, as the topic was still painful to talk about.

"That's because I'm your fairy godmother, Bubbles," the angelic woman introduced herself, answering both her questions at once as she took a few steps back to let Bubbles see her again in her fullest glory, putting her arms out like a messianic figure. "I've been watching over you since the day you were born, and I will watch over you until the day you return to the ether. You've been strong, Bubbles, but your strength has its limits. I've come to help you in your darkest hour, dear Bubbles."

Bubbles stood up - she'd finally found the will to do so. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she finally smiled, because something had finally gone her way.

"I've always wanted a fairy godmother! Oh, I need you so much!" Bubbles exclaimed, but she soon became dejected once more. In her experience, things had rarely worked out very well. "But… How're you going to help me? Things are really bad - Blossom and Buttercup hate me and I- I- just can't fight crime. Dad said that he needed weeks before he could save me but I don't know how I can even last tonight…"

"Well, that's why I'm here… Yes… Yes…" the fairy godmother said in a kindly, maternal voice. "You are destined for greater things than catching a few hoodlums, Bubbles. That you're wishing to be a normal little girl isn't your failing, but the failing of everyone around you. Do you believe that?"

Bubbles couldn't be sure - she had to search within herself for answers, and even then, there was a whole lot of things to think and feel through for someone who had just lived for three months.

"I've watched over you, Bubbles, all this time. Although it pains me to see it, I had to stand by and watch your mother mistreat you - oh, how she would fail to teach you and bring you to your fullest potential. Your sisters were no better… Yes… Yes… Buttercup, especially, but Blossom is to blame for some of it too," the fairy godmother explained. "Even your father seeks to lead you away from your destiny…"

What the fairy godmother had laid out to her was convincing, and it'd made her mad, and disillusioned, and disappointed, at least up until the part where she mentioned her father.

"But Dad loves me…" Bubbles defended her father meekly.

"Oh, dear, how you leap to the defense of your loved ones so readily. You are good, Bubbles. Pure of heart," the fairy godmother said. "Yes… Yes… your father loves you, as does your mother and sisters, and your friends - there is no doubt about that. But sometimes, even those who love you do not know how to help you. I, on the other hand…" The fairy godmother looked at Bubbles expectantly from the corner of her eyes as she felt the rough surface of her satchel bag, rubbing it as if to suggest that it contained something of interest to her.

"How will you help me?" Bubbles asked. The fairy godmother turned to face her directly with a smile as if she had been expecting that question all along. Opening her dark blue bag, she reached into the darkness within it and pulled out what appeared to be a metal syringe.

"I will bless you with my magic, Bubbles," the fairy godmother said mystically as she put out her hand to present a leather pouch with something long and thin inside, waiting for Bubbles to take it. Hesitant at first, Bubbles stretched both of her arms out, her hands forming a cup. The fairy godmother gently put the object into her hands. Pulling the gift out of the leather pouch and looking at it, she saw that it was a small metal syringe with a glass center where she could see a dull, red liquid inside. On the side was printed 'His Secret', but right beside it, '2.0' was scribbled using a dark red marker. "Contained within this device is my magic. Use it, Bubbles, and all your problems will go away…"

"Will I live happily ever after?" Bubbles asked. She had been read a lot of fairy tales, and she couldn't help but see the parallels between her life and those stories. The princesses in those stories would always start out amid terrible circumstances, terrible people and with humble backgrounds. The fairy godmother smiled widely, before holding it back and damming it into a kindly smile. She chuckled.

"Why, yes… yes… of course, dear," the fairy godmother said with her all-knowing smile. "A princess like you deserves a happy ending, do you not? Now… Do you know how to use it?"

"My Mom taught me how to use a needle…" Bubbles said, referring to the times when Selicia had trained her as a field medic. Holding up the syringe before her, something occurred to her as she removed the plastic cap covering the needle of the syringe: "Wouldn't it break if I inject myself with this?"

"Oh no, of course not. It is special, made just for you… Now hurry along and use it!" the fairy godmother gently pushed Bubbles to inject herself with it. "I sense that your sisters might need some help - help that you can't provide unless you use my magic, dear."

As if on cue, Bubbles could feel her right temple flaring up in pain - she knew what it meant. It meant that her sisters, one or both of them, were in trouble, in serious pain.

"Yes, fairy godmother…" she muttered as she quickly got to work. Under the fairy godmother's glow, she slapped the inside of her forearm to find a vein. Once she found it, she took a deep breath and aimed with the syringe needle… but hesitated. Fear overtook her, though this time it was fear that she couldn't understand. It felt like something beyond the fear of needles.

"Your sisters are in trouble, Bubbles…" the fairy godmother repeated herself. The way she looked at Bubbles had become strange - piercing, intense, almost willing her to stab herself with the needle. "If you can't help them, they will grow to hate you with a passion even if they live through tonight…. yes… yes… That is certainly not what either of us wants…"

_'I HATE YOU!'_ Blossom's voice echoed in Bubbles' mind.

_'You're useless, Bubbles! Useless, useless, USELESS!'_

Bubbles could feel her temple becoming worse. She could only fear the worst.

_'She's not hardcore, not like us.'_ Buttercup's voice joined in the fun in Bubbles' war-torn mindscape.

_'Why do I even have a sister like you?'_

"You can't help your sisters without my blessing, Bubbles…" the fairy godmother repeated herself.

Yes, Blossom and Buttercup did need her help. Yes, they were mean to her, but no, she wasn't going to abandon them again if she could help it – the last time had been one too many times. Sisters were sisters, and love was love. It was what her Daddy had always taught her and she wasn't going to forget it, ever.

Taking the plunge, Bubbles stuck the needle into her vein and depressed the plunger, pumping the dark red fluid into her. The fluid felt hot in her veins, and she could feel it spread like molten iron inside her. It was painful at first, but then something else took hold. Bubbles withdrew the syringe and dropped it out of shock and regret, both of which didn't last very long because of what happened next.

The first thing she felt was pleasure - intense pleasure she had never felt before, better than being plunged into a warm bath after a freezing day out in the open. Even better than sleeping snugly in Dad's loving and warm embrace. It was better than any candy she had eaten or any rush she'd felt doing anything. She could feel it on every inch of her body, inside and out. Then the fear was gone - as if it was a thing of the past, as if she never knew it. To be released from the tyranny of fear itself had completely enthralled her. Bubbles clutched her head as she felt overwhelmed by the sensation of pure delight running through her veins, and throwing her head back as she fell to her knees, moaning with it as she smiled and chuckled. She closed her eyes, taking in the sensations.

There was no more fear, and something else crept up in her, slow at first, but quickly gaining momentum. Boldness. Unbridled anger. Fury. Boundless fury! Bubbles opened her eyes and caught sight of herself in a broken mirror not too far away, and saw that her eyes had turned hellish red. Cracks were running down the mirror as if splitting her face in two, but she liked what she saw. A grin spread across her face as she imagined what she was going to do to the people who were hurting her sisters, as she imagined what she was going to do to people, period.

"Thanks, miss fairy godmother!" Bubbles exclaimed with an aggressive growl in her voice, cruel laughter erupting after that. Balling up her fists so tightly that her knuckles and wrists cracked, she tensed up her muscles in preparation for battle. "Thank you, so much! SO VERY MUCH!" She couldn't help but laugh madly as pure pleasure and rage coursed through her veins.

"I'm glad to help. Now go… Go and save your sisters!" the fairy godmother prompted as she pointed her wand in the direction of her sisters, and Bubbles turned to fly away, her streak of baby blue light in her wake, now with a thin core of hellish red in its center.

"Yes… Yes… I'm so very glad to help…" Bubbles heard the fairy godmother say faintly before her voice disappeared entirely from the distance.

But she didn't care. All that mattered to Bubbles now was to rip and tear… until it is done.


	26. Chapter 22: The Descent (Part 2)

**Chapter 22: The Descent (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Silver Age Cineplex.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 1954.**

Agent Blake wasn't kidding when he said that he would stick closely to the Girls to make up for Bubbles' absence. As Blossom and Buttercup took cover on either side of the grand entrance into the old cineplex, Agent Blake's men had formed two groups and sprinted to catch up with the Girls and take up positions behind them.

The moment Blossom and Buttercup flew into the lobby area, past the box office, guns were already blazing and there was no going back. A couple of armed guards were taking potshots with shotguns the moment they streaked in and surveyed the room.

"Buttercup, left!" Blossom ordered as she flew over the man on her right, stoically enduring a shotgun blast to her chest as she did. He had been hiding behind a wooden desk. She was able to shoot him with her heat beam easily from her vantage point, knocking him out. Buttercup had a less elegant solution; crashing into her assigned target and dashing him against the wall before delivering a knock-out punch to his face when he was too stubborn to fall unconscious.

Agent Blake and his men needed only to come in and cuff those men. Blossom and Buttercup took up positions behind Cinema 3 as they waited.

"Hey Bloss, these men are not cultists!" Blake informed the Angel of Justice. Numerous possibilities assaulted his mind, putting pressure on him. "There could be more than twenty bad guys, watch out!"

And he was right. Doors leading into the lobby area burst open simultaneously, forcing him and his men to scramble into cover; some had to leap to safety when more gunshots resounded. A Powerpuff Task Force soldier was caught in the ambush, bullets ripping through him as he fell to the ground - dead or alive, no one knew.

"Go! Get the hostages! We'll hold them off!" Blake shouted over the gunshots and Blossom nodded. He spotted criminals, still of unknown affiliation, shooting from the doors of restrooms for both sexes, as well as multiple employee corridors. There were two or more to each door, which meant he was outnumbered.

Blossom and Buttercup crashed through the sturdy doors of Cinema 3, then through another set of double doors meant for soundproofing. Rows upon rows of seats greeted them immediately. The lights in the cinema were still bright, at least, revealing men and women hiding behind seats, with guns pointed at them - mostly shotguns, for some reason.

The hostages were lined up near the silver screen, forced to kneel with their hands bound behind their backs, and their ankles tied as well. There was a couple of security guards, and nine others - three of whom were men, the rest women. A couple of children who looked like siblings, about twice the Girls' physical age. They were guarded by a couple of women in red, flowing robes. They had street-grade machine-pistols in their hands. Cultists.

A man in a similar robe stood before the Girls, in the same aisle. He seemed to be the guy in charge. His full beard and mustache, and long flowing hair invoked the appearance of a kind of religious leader.

"Ah yes, His young little angels…" the head cultist said as if greeting them in some kind of a party. "We've been expecting you."

There was an explosion outside. A grenade had gone off. Whether it belonged to a criminal or Blake's men, neither Girls knew. It worried Blossom – she was worried about Blake and friends. There was no telling if they were fine or shot dead. She saw the hostages at the front of the cinema, and that worried her too.

"Let them go, mister," Blossom warned the head cultist. "If you give up-"

"Give up? There's no giving up," the head cultist interrupted. "All will fall under His power willingly or otherwise. No, only by giving in to him will we truly be free – Blossom and Buttercup, let me propose to you this instead: join us and you will have anything to your hearts' desire!" He looked at Blossom eye-to-eye. "Blossom, He can give your friends peace and you, everything there is to know." He looked at Buttercup. "And Buttercup, only He can sate your desire for battle and glory, if you would let him."

"Who are you talking about?" Blossom asked.

"Really?" Buttercup could not help but utter, wanting to know more.

"Yes. And unlike even your dearest 'mother' and the USDO, He will not stop you from doing what you want with petty morality and philosophy…" the head cultist ignored Blossom and preached to her sister instead. Buttercup did not understand half of it, but she liked whatever she could grasp. Sick of Blossom and Dad telling her what to do, it sounded like a good deal.

"Don't listen to him, Buttercup! He's a bad guy!" Blossom said to her sister before turning back to the head cultist. "Let those poor people go, or you'll be sorry!"

"Very well," the head cultist said nonchalantly and made a gesture to his fellow cultists. The women in robes guarding the hostages unsheathed knives and placed them dangerously on the closest hostages' throats. "Then I'll make it simple for you. Give in to Him or watch those people die."

"Why do you have to be such a bully!?" Blossom shouted in disbelief. "What did those people ever do to you?"

"It's nothing personal. Their lives are immaterial but instrumental," the head cultist said, with a condescending smile aimed at Blossom. "So, what would it be? An inexhaustible supply of pleasure from knowing? Or pain and death?"

Blossom glared at the head cultist, glaring straight into his eyes, resisting the urge to blind them with her infrared beam. Her eyes kept switching between him and the hostages. But no, she couldn't trust him. She knew not to trust strangers, much less those who were vague about their acquaintances and affiliation.

"Buttercup, the left hostage, now!" Blossom ordered as she flew towards one of the hostage takers, enduring a hailstorm of bullets from the shooters even as she unleashed her very own with her heat vision and MP5, knocking out several cultist shooters or wounding them. But before she could punch her out, she had already slit the security guard's throat. The same thing had happened with Buttercup's attempt at saving a hostage.

Then it happened. The other criminals in the room had started gunning down the hostages. After punching out her hostage taker, Blossom tried to help by descending upon the shooters with Buttercup by her side, ripping through cinema seats, tackling bad guys, but there were too many of them. Half the hostages had hit the floor, dead. The other half, out of fear. But there was also shooting coming from the projector room. A sniper, who had taken the life of another hostage prone on the floor without second thoughts.

"Buttercup, go up!" Blossom ordered as she continued to wreak havoc at the seats, giving one cultist a stunning upper-cut before smacking aside the machete of another and giving him a power-punch to the chest.

The head cultist did not run, but he stood where he was, watching with interest, arms folded behind him.

Buttercup flew up and into the projector room, breaking through the wall and smashing apart the film projector and knocking the red-robed cult sniper there into the wall. His wooden-stocked hunting rifle clattered to the ground. It seemed that his conviction had given him more tolerance to pain, as all he did was to scramble to his knees, ignoring his wounds and pain.

"Wait!" the cultist pleaded, and somehow, it'd gotten Buttercup's attention.

"What!?" Buttercup asked brusquely with a shout. The cultist ripped off his pendant – which had a crab-like claw carved into it – and held it in his hand before putting out his arms as if expecting a hug from Buttercup.

"I sacrifice myself for your pleasure!" the cultist said. "Tear me to pieces, I ask of you!"

Buttercup hadn't thought about killing behind Blossom's back at first. Everything had happened so quickly that she didn't even have time to think. But now that the cultist had presented himself to her…

"Are you kidding? Why would you-?" Buttercup tried to interrogate the cultist, finding him and his request more strange than anything, but he'd interrupted her by tearing open his red robe and the buttoned T-shirt underneath, revealing flesh crisscrossed with scars.

"He requested this of me and I bow to his will!" the cultist explained, his face twitching and his lips shivering with some kind of an obscure and perverse pleasure he felt from this.

It'd enticed her entirely, the offer too good to pass up. It'd tempted her so much that she couldn't resist grinning. She'd already had an idea of what to do with him.

"If you insist – open your mouth," Buttercup ordered the cultist kneeling before her in submission. He did exactly as he was told, opening his mouth wide as if receiving the flesh of Christ during a Catholic mass.

Staring at the cultist with a hungry, intense look, Buttercup seized him by the lower jaw with her other hand on his face and gave it the hardest yank she could muster. Blood splattered all over her vest when the cultist's lower jaw came right off, the skin and muscle snapping like wet rubber.

And he was still smiling, or at least what amounted to smiling when one no longer had a lower jaw. His upper lips were still curling upwards even as blood was being vomited out of the torn flesh and blood vessels below.

Next, Buttercup thrust her fist through the cultist's liver, cutting through flesh and hitting bone. She yanked whatever it was out, and it turned out to be the man's spine. It was the first time she had pulled a man's spine out through the liver - she didn't know she could do that. Unable to control his lower body any further, he fell on his back, upper lip still curled as he grasped Buttercup's arm lovingly, even caressing that very arm that was ravaging him.

"Urrgh…" Buttercup was disgusted by the man, how he was worshiping her arm. Taking one of it by the forearm, and putting a foot on his shoulder, she pulled it out by the shoulder socket before giving it a twist by the elbow as if it was a chicken wing, dislocating the elbow, and throwing the mutilated arm out of the way. The man had stopped moving by then, his upper lip uncurled. She gave him a kick in the side. No reaction. He was dead.

"There goes the fun…" she said, almost regretting how she had proceeded straight to tear the willing cultist apart - she thought she should have ripped off one finger at a time from his hands, or one tooth at a time. And it was all Blossom's fault! With her constant surveillance, she had made it a habit to rush through her kills. Her torture of Marcello was a fond memory, one that she wanted to replicate but hadn't been able to for the past month or so because of Blossom's tyranny.

The head cultist's offer had piqued her curiosity and interest. Would there have been more cultists for her to hurt and kill had she accepted his offer? The more she thought about his call to 'give in', the more she wanted to join up with him to find out… And she was so deep in thought that she was taken completely by surprise-

When Naga came bursting through the door to the projector room, tackling her out of it through the hole she made. It'd caught Buttercup so off-guard that she had forgotten to fly, and so the wayward little girl landed among the cinema chairs, groaning. After making a bigger hole for herself in the wall of the projector room by smashing the corners, Naga jumped out of it and landed close to her.

Blossom, who had to take down one gun-toting cultist or criminal at a time on her lonesome, was just punching out her last bad guy when Naga decided to join the fight.

Naga was armed differently this time, with a pair of shotguns, each wielded by two of her four arms. Her armor was the same, however, consisting of scale armor that reminded the Girls of a snake, and a hexagonal-patterned under-armor. Boots. Gloves. Hair tied into a bun. And her amber compound-iris eyes.

And she wasn't alone. The scraggly-bearded head cultist came forward, a serene smile on his face that was out of place in the chaotic battlefield. He unsheathed a machete, the blade of which seemed to reflect different colors of light at different times. However, it was his eyes that looked more dangerous - they had started glowing red somehow, and a normal person's eyes would not do that.

"Long time no see, Blossom," Naga said to the leader of The Three. "Ready for a rematch?"

"This is the last time you'll hurt my sister, Naga!" Blossom replied, balling up her fists, getting ready to strike.

"Are you sure, Little Miss Bossy?" Naga taunted as she pumped both her shotguns, working all four of her arms at once.

"Well, I'm sure!" Buttercup burst out of the heap of chairs she had landed in, a streak of green light following her up to the middle of the air. Without saying another word, she launched herself at Naga, who responded by firing both her shotguns at her.

Blossom, in the meantime, was engaged by the head cultist, who rushed her with his machete, taking swipes at her as he shouted like a madman while she dodged the surprisingly fast and furious blade strikes.

Buttercup had missed Naga on her initial attack, having been distracted by the twin shotgun blasts as she had to put up her arms to shield her face. She wasn't prepared when Naga lunged forward at her. Buttercup ended up crashing through a pillar holding up the projector room, causing it to crash down upon her.

The head cultist wound up his sword arm for a sweeping strike with his machete, only for Blossom to dart out of the way deftly as she was floating. Sensing an opportunity, she jabbed at him in the throat with a kick, knocking him back as he clutched his neck, momentarily unable to breathe. Sensing a chance to quickly neutralize the cultist as a threat, she went in for a tackle, knocking him down an aisle, herself rolling with him, before delivering a knock-out blow to his jaw.

Except he wasn't knocked out. He'd taken it like a champ, somehow stronger than a regular human being - than a human being trained for combat, even. The next thing she knew, she felt her skin split in her thigh, pain erupting as if acid was poured on her leg, before going deep down to her bone. She darted backward, looking down at her leg… To realize that she had been slashed in the thigh, and blood was pooling there. Seeing it made the pain worst. Clutching her wound, Blossom stifled a scream and held back tears as the head cultist rose, a bloody machete in hand. The weapon had turned out to be Duranium - Blossom thought that she recognized the inconsistent shine of the world's hardest metal.

Bursting out of the concrete rubble that had fallen over her, Buttercup shot towards Naga, knocking over more cinema chairs. The four-armed woman sidestepped the charge and whirled around just in time to block Buttercup when she had stopped quickly to throw some punches on her back.

Letting go of her shotguns, which hung on her neck, Naga continued to block Buttercup's unskilled but brutal strikes, before launching a knee at her, which Buttercup blocked with her own.

The tide was turning – Naga began throwing out punches of her own, in seemingly random combinations, at speeds only an enhanced being could ever hope to match. Upper left, lower right – then both upper arms – followed by both left arms then both right arms. When Naga punched with all her fists, Buttercup was thrown for a loop and was only able to block her upper arms while neglecting the lowers, which struck her in the stomach, sending her flying into the silver screen, breaking the fourth wall.

Seeing that Buttercup was in trouble, Blossom opted to end her confrontation early by firing a quick and dirty pair of weak heat beams weighed to knock out the head cultist, only for him to throw up his hands over his face, blocking it but receiving burns on his forearms.

Blossom stared at the cultist wide-eyed, mouth dropping. Just who was he? For her entire life, no ordinary man could withstand her attacks.

She simply couldn't believe it. Heating her eyes up, she charged them for a big one. The head cultist took the opportunity to draw a pistol from within his robes. They both fired at the same time, both of them blocking each other's shots simultaneously. The man was burnt; Blossom felt a sharp pain deep in her forearm.

But the head cultist had finally gone down, his blocking arm burned severely, his robe on fire. But so had Blossom, who lost control of her flight and collapsed from the severe pain. It was a Duranium bullet, fired from a Duranium pistol.

Meanwhile, Buttercup flew through the hole in the silver screen – she wasn't done with Naga yet – and straight at the four-armed woman with a flying kick only to be grabbed by the ankle and slammed into the floor, creating a crater in the carpeted wood, with Buttercup fallen through.

Sensing an opportunity, Buttercup sprang up and through the floor right underneath Naga, hitting her in her unmentionables with her right fist, causing her to fall back, clutching her groin with her lower two arms in a near-fetal position as her face contorted with pain. Floating upwards, Buttercup took advantage of Naga's fall by propelling herself at her head foot-first - what was meant to be a killing blow - but Naga had forced herself to roll out of the way. Buttercup's foot was buried in the floor instead of flesh and bone.

Blossom was clutching her arm as she dragged herself behind a cinema seat, bearing with an excruciating sensation that was spreading fast. Examining her arm, she immediately regretted it when she realized that the Duranium bullet had gone right through her forearm and embedded itself between her chest and belly. She could feel it in her, not as a tiny bullet, but as a bubble of pain, pulsing and expanding; the only good thing was that it had taken residence in her flesh and not a vital organ, not too deep from the surface.

Meanwhile, the head cultist was getting up. One of his arms was burned severely and in too much pain to be of any use. He tossed his robe away, letting it burn on the floor. Returning his pistol to its holster, he picked up his machete and started coming towards Blossom, intending to do his master's bidding and complete the task.

"Enough of this!" Naga screamed in frustration as she struggled to her feet and drew four swords from her back. "It's time for this to end!"

The flash of four Duranium-edged blades had intimidated Buttercup. The battle had dragged on for too long, and she was becoming weary, especially after getting thrown through too many walls and the floor. She'd even had trouble getting her foot out of the ground. As she tried desperately to pull it out, Naga began charging her, swords held with their tips facing her, hungry for her blood.

The moment Buttercup could see her reflection on the lethal blades, she forced herself to take flight, expending now-precious X-energy. She had only narrowly averted being cut to ribbons as she could feel sharp edges on her right arm. Stopping the thrust in mid-air, she let herself drop in an arc further down the movie theater. Naga continued her pursuit. Knowing that she couldn't run anymore, Buttercup dug in her heels and prepared to counter-charge the snake woman. Staring intensely at Naga, she plotted her next moves, her decision changing with each twirl of Naga's quad blades.

It felt impossible - it would be like brushing clay against a cheese grate and expecting it to come out fine. Fear broke through the steel fence in her heart as she realized just how much trouble she was in. Her vision grew green for some reason - which was when it happened. Naga's charge was broken somehow, and Buttercup saw her armor split, blood spurting out and skin tearing out of the blue - or out of the green. The four-armed woman dived for cover, which was when lines were cut into the cinema seats she was hiding behind.

But before she knew it, her green vision was gone, and when it was over, Buttercup felt exhaustion more severe than before - and it hit her belatedly that she had discovered her own version of the heat beam, except things did not burst into flames with her. Things were cut up right before her eyes instead.

Buttercup's joy at discovering a power that would put her on the same league as Blossom, however, was cut short when Naga hurled a cinema seat at her. Although the seat was well-cushioned, the force was great, sending her rolling down-range, back closer to the silver screen. Heaving the chair off, she discovered too late that Naga was swinging and thrusting her swords at her. She could only dodge so far before her back was to the wall, and by then, she felt, immediately, Naga's vengeance cutting through her face and chest before she was able to roll out of the way, turn tail completely and run. Drawing her pistol out of desperation, Buttercup fired multiple shots behind her on her retreat, which did little to hinder her enemy.

Blossom, in the meantime, was just as exhausted as her toughest sister, and she could only crawl away from the head cultist as he came closer and closer to her, machete held high above his head, and he couldn't wait to bring it down. Then there was the added complication of the head cultist's rear guard bursting into Cinema 3 - swallowing her pride, Blossom drew her pistol and fired on them, taking one down with no idea if she'd killed him and forcing the other to take cover behind a corner speaker.

They had served well as distractions, however, as the head cultist was able to gain on her with a sudden sprint, hacking at her with his machete, putting deep cuts in her shoulder and her arms when she threw her hands up. She could only cry helplessly not like a little girl, but as a little girl, as she began feeling faint from the pain, her vision blurring…

Buttercup wasn't far away from her, in terms of physical location and state. As she continued to retreat, Naga hurled two of her swords at Buttercup - one she narrowly dodged by ducking, but the other going right through her left thigh, causing her to fall forward, next to Blossom.

"It is done," the head cultist said cryptically as he stood over Blossom. Naga came up beside him, adding two more blades to the execution squad. Blossom shielded her face with an injured arm, afraid of what might happen next, while Buttercup had flipped herself to a supine position, a hand on the Duranium blade in her left thigh, afraid to pull it out and yet afraid to leave it in.

"My, my, you kids are growing up so fast. You girls are becoming a handful," Naga taunted as she twirled her blades in anticipation for the kill. "Too bad Bubbles isn't here to save the day - again - I would sure love to kill her too."

Blossom couldn't help but think back to her folly of succumbing to the rage in her and ending up mistreating her sister. Anger is temporary insanity, and outside of it, she could only regret it. Had Bubbles been beside them, things might have gone differently; there would have been some chance that she would have redeemed herself and done something to save them or turn the tide.

"I'm sorry," Blossom mumbled deliriously in between sobs as she cringed from the impending doom standing over her.


	27. Chapter 23: The Descent (Part 3)

**Chapter 23: The Descent (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Silver Age Cineplex.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2005.**

Stanley Talker didn't so much as found Bubbles as she had flown right by him - and when he'd barked and shouted at her to stop, she wouldn't. In the split second he'd seen her, however, he knew that something was wrong. The color of her eyes was different, and so was her X-energy contrail. It was baby blue, and now it was bleeding red from the center. He should know - being a dog, he saw the world in a spectrum of blue to yellow - that her eyes and part of her contrail had turned yellow to him was disconcerting. Frightening, even. Since when could humans, even enhanced humans, do that without their mystical technology?

Bubbles had returned to the Silver Age Cineplex in just a couple of minutes, ignoring police warnings to stop, not even stopping to help Agent Blake and his men to finish off the remainder of their ambushers. Despite not knowing Blossom and Buttercup's location, she didn't have to - her Sister Sense had gotten stronger, and she was able to locate them by how its increasing strength had denoted proximity instead.

Knocking down the two sets of strong double doors leading into Cinema 3, she was met with the sight of her sisters on the floor of a cinema aisle, both of them severely injured and looking incredibly exhausted. Helpless. Bubbles' hellish red eyes went from her sisters to Naga then the insignificant cultist beside her. Before, she would have seen an insurmountable obstacle, a mountain with four crane-like arms. Now, all she saw was red - rage and blood.

The cultist Blossom had forced into hiding behind a corner speaker had made the mistake of coming out at the wrong time and shooting Bubbles. The bullets and pain were ignored. His presence as a pest and annoyance wasn't. Turning to him, Bubbles zipped to him and shredded his face with a single swipe of her fingernails - the fingertips of one of her gloves were cut open at the same time. He was knocked back, finding purchase on a cinema seat, and when he tried to get back up, Bubbles punched him so hard that his head flew down the movie theatre and bounced off the silver screen, making a splatter of blood. The suddenly headless body twitched as it collapsed. She then turned to Naga.

"You're next!" Bubbles growled at the four-armed woman with a kind of hatred that even Buttercup couldn't muster up.

"You'll pay for that bite you gave me!" Naga proclaimed stubbornly, referring to their first encounter when Bubbles had actually saved Buttercup in The Strip by climbing on the snake woman's back and chomping down on her neck.

Without another word, Bubbles flew across the theatre and cannonball-tackled Naga, at the same time ignoring the sword cuts she gave her, even though it had split skin and spilled blood. The tackle had sent Naga tumbling down towards the silver screen, losing her swords in the process.

"The chosen is here - it is done," the head cultist simply said as he walked away, refusing to help Naga.

Getting up, Naga stood in a defensive stance, her arms held in a posture with certain strikes prepared. Bubbles zipped towards her, swinging a destructive punch, which Naga ducked. The lady returned it with a right hook to Bubbles' face, then a left hook, both of which Bubbles simply laughed them off maniacally like a joke.

"Bub…Bles?" Blossom groaned as she saw what was happening. The Bubbles in the theater was unrecognizable from the Bubbles she knew. The way she fought - the way she talked. It was as if she was a whole other person.

"You have more arms to break than me!" Bubbles simply laughed madly as she gave Naga an unexpected uppercut which sent her stumbling back. Desperate, Naga drew her shotguns out of desperation and fired both of them at Bubbles - doing a grand total of nothing except pushing her back and ruining her Kevlar arm guards and vest. Bubbles launched towards her again, delivering a flying kick aimed at her chest, which Naga blocked by forming a cross with her shotguns. The force of Bubbles' kick was so great that it'd broke both shotguns in two. Naga was sent flying into the silver screen with a loud crash, the force paralyzing her. Falling out of a crater she'd made, she dropped to her knees.

Bubbles floated menacingly towards Naga. While still on her knees, Naga aimed two punches with her left arms - but it was like punching a Duranium wall. In response, Bubbles chuckled masochistically and gave her the same kind of right hook that beheaded her ally. It was only by virtue of her enhanced resistance that the same did not happen to her. Naga had been trying to get up, but the blow had put her back on her knees again.

Stubbornly, Naga went for a double right punch, which Bubbles blocked with ease before she screamed like an animal and clawed at her with her fingernails, putting numerous cuts and slashes in the snake woman's face, even putting tears in her armor. At the same time, Bubbles' gloves had basically become fingerless. Grabbing her by the neck with her left hand, Bubbles continued to pound on her with her right hand, sometimes aiming at her head, sometimes her chest.

Buttercup could only watch in disbelief and wonder if a second Bubbles had taken the place of the crybaby coward she knew.

"One is my favorite number!" Bubbles screamed deliriously as she slammed Naga against the ground on a prone position. She stepped on one of Naga's forearms and broke it by bending it backward with both her hands. A loud, spine-tingling crunch resulted and Naga screamed – her illusion of invincibility destroyed. Finding the woman's pained cry annoying, Bubbles delivered a kick to her skull. "I'll break you bit by bit for what you did!"

"One is followed by two!" Bubbles screeched as she stepped on a second arm and bent that too, breaking it with a sickening crack using her bare hands. Miraculously, despite the excruciating pain she felt, Naga was able to elbow Bubbles in the face, throw her off and get up on her knees. It wasn't even an inconvenience to Bubbles, however, and when Naga followed this up with another feeble punch with one of her remaining arms, Bubbles intercepted it with her own punch, breaking Naga's hand, rendering a third arm useless. "Two plus one is three! Hehe- hehehehehe-"

"You… sick little… freak…" Naga muttered while she was on her knees as she bore with the pain in most of her arms, as she listened, in fear, to Bubbles giggling like a sick puppy. The enhanced little girl then headbutt the four-armed woman, knocking her out.

Sensing that Naga was no longer a threat, Bubbles touched down, clutching her head as she panted from exertion. She could feel it coming down - the fairy godmother's blessing was running its course. The return to a lack of constant pleasure and a state of constant fear was painful to Bubbles such that she was gasping and wincing.

"Bubbles?" Blossom's pained call was the only thing that could distract her from the withdrawal. Bubbles turned around, her pupils changing color from hellish red to baby blue when she did. Blossom had been limping towards her when the change in color alarmed her and caused her to freeze. But the red was just a glimpse, however, a blink-and-you'll-miss moment, such that Blossom was questioning her own eyesight when she saw it.

Buttercup was coming up behind her, one of Naga's swords still in her thigh. She was putting most of her weight on her good leg, and she had to lean on Blossom for support.

"Blossom? Buttercup?" Bubbles said as she walked up to them. Buttercup tried to come closer, but she'd nearly fell had Bubbles not warped forward to hold her up. Blossom limped up next to her.

"I'm sorry for everything, Blossom," Bubbles apologized to them, her eyes swimming in tears. "For being weak - for letting all those criminals go… and those children…"

Blossom hugged her. She knew what was wrong, and it certainly wasn't Bubbles. It had been her all along - the anger in her, and how she had failed to be a good leader and sister even when she loved Bubbles as a sister.

"No, Bubbles," Blossom said. "I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you, or hit you."

"Yeah, and that was hardcore, Bubbles!" Buttercup exclaimed with a smile.

"You mean it?" Bubbles said, unable to believe that she had found acceptance with Buttercup too, something that seemed impossible and unattainable before.

"But how did you do it, Bubbles?" Blossom asked.

"Oh, I… um…" Bubbles struggled with the explanation. She knew she couldn't reveal it. Her Dad had taught all of them about the horrors of Townsville, and drug use was one of them. Though he'd tactfully explained it in a more child-friendly way, it was enough for Bubbles to know that what she did - using the fairy godmother's magic - was wrong. Her Dad would have called it 'abominable', 'reprehensible' and 'evil', along with other impressive vocabularies that only adults know.

"It's a new power I discovered!" Bubbles lied, forcing a smile and faking her excitement over it. Why should it matter that she had to drug herself and lie to her sisters? As long as she had saved the day and the lives of her sisters? Why should it bother her when she had finally found redemption with Blossom and acceptance with Buttercup? Blossom was entirely convinced by the lie - she had never known Bubbles to be a liar, and it was a perfectly logical explanation for the red eyes if she could even trust her eyesight after the beating she took.

"Hey, I discovered a new power too!" Buttercup added. "I can cut things with my eyes now!"

Outside Cinema 3, the sound of gunshots had long ceased. From every door leading into the movie theater, USDO and police officers alike were bursting through, only to discover that the day was saved… thanks to Townsville's Angels of Justice.

Agent Blake's men were quick to secure Naga, putting Duranium cuffs on her many arms and dragging her away. The head cultist was nowhere to be found, however, though his followers and criminal allies - the majority of who were alive, just wounded - were arrested on the spot.

Detective Mullens and Olivia followed up behind the cops and soldiers, searching the cinema for the Girls. Stanley Talker had to boost himself up behind a seat, and when he saw Bubbles, he barked happily a few times, showing a typically doggy grin. They ran up to the Girls, with Stanley in the lead. The talking dog darted up to Bubbles, before putting his forepaws on her shoulders and licking her face.

"You're ralright!" the talking dog said in between licks. "Ri ras rorried rabout you!"

"I'm fine, really," Bubbles said with a giggle. "What makes you think I won't be?"

"Ras ruch ras Ri like you, Rur-rles," Stanley said as he finally backed down. "You're rot a good fighter."

"I've discovered a new power now, Mister Talker," Bubbles said with forced pride as she'd put her arms around her sisters, each of them supporting the other as their injuries had mounted over the course of today's battle. "I think I'll be okay from now on." Of course, Bubbles had said this from a short-termed point of view, the only one she was capable of at the moment - the fairy godmother had got to have more magic to give her - she's got to have more!

That was when Bubbles could feel pain humming in her chest and jaw, getting hotter and hotter. She winced. Blossom and Buttercup had to carry her all of a sudden when she sagged.

"Rur-rles? Are you rokay?" Stanley Talker asked, and there was no answer immediately. He whimpered as a result. "You know, your reyes rere re-" the talking dog could not finish his sentence before Bubbles lunged forward and wrapped her hands around the dog's muzzle. Quickly, she led the dog aside.

Meanwhile, Detective Mullens and Olivia had just reached them - they were detained by a quick meeting with Agent Blake, USDO soldiers and TPD officers.

"What was that about?" Mullens asked off-handedly as he watched Bubbles lead Stanley Talker away by his snout – an odd sight indeed. But thinking that it was nothing more than just some childish exchange of petty secrets between a 3-month-old enhanced little girl and a 2-year-old talking dog, he went on his way to talking to Blossom and Buttercup. "Jeez, you girls are in a bad way." He'd said this while looking at the sword that had gone through Buttercup's thigh. "We'll have to get you to your pops, sooner the better."

"But good job, Girls," Olivia praised them. "Naga has terrorized Townsville long enough - believe me, she was way worse when we didn't know she existed."

"What are we going to do with her?" Blossom asked.

"Your USDO buddies will take care of it," Mullens said. "They probably have a million questions to ask her, and a thousand old scores to settle. The fun's just beginning."

The detectives' meeting with Blake and the USDO a minute ago had been about this. Apparently, they had to figure out what to do with Naga. A quick debate solved the issue, however - while Naga had committed numerous crimes within Townsville, such that the TPD had jurisdiction, the police's lack of equipment and infrastructure to deal with enhanced individuals precluded the local authorities from jailing Naga and conventionally processing her through the local justice system. Since she was originally the USDO's responsibility, she was to be returned to them for containment instead.

"Rur-rles! Not the whiskers!" Stanley Talker exclaimed after Bubbles finally let go when they'd found themselves a corner. "What ras that rabout?"

Bubbles sat down on a carpeted step beside Stanley as she contemplated deeply, more than she had before, about what to say to the talking dog. She traced the zigzagged lines forming a pattern in the carpet with her eyes as she did so until she finally made eye contact with the talking dog.

"Can you keep a secret, Mister Doggy?" Bubbles asked.

"Rof course, Rur-rles," Stanley Talker promised. "What ris it rabout?"

"It's my red eyes," Bubbles said, and even then, she was still trying to think of a convincing lie. She was never any good at it, as unlike Buttercup, she lacked practice. Eventually, she fell back to the closest thing she could get her hands on: "Please don't mention it. It's part of my new power, and I don't like the color."

"Roh hoh hoh!" Stanley Talker imitated the human laughter as he made a doggy grin. "That's rit?"

Y-yes…" Bubbles stammered. "Why? Was there something else you saw?"

The talking dog couldn't help but peak his ears when Bubbles asked that question. He studied her while tilting his head slightly. The question was odd, but he couldn't quite put a paw on what made it suspicious.

"No, not rat rall," Stanley Talker finally said, deciding finally that he was wrong to suspect the sweet and innocent Bubbles. She'd been the victim since… forever. There was no way she could do any wrong.

Blossom had gotten sad all of a sudden. Floating up to the armrest of a mostly intact cinema seat, she sat on it as she shed a tear. Looking over at the dead bodies down the theater, near the silver screen, she hinted at why. Detective Mullens and Olivia could tell. Buttercup was kept guessing.

"It's not your fault," the detective said. "Your friends were pounced on, and the seconds were ticking."

"I wish I could save them," Blossom said, nearly in tears. She was looking down at the children. One of them was shot in the chest and killed. The other, a boy, was crying over her dead body. Both security guards had been killed, one of them with his throat slit while the other was shot in the forehead. One of the woman hostages did not survive the dozens of shots aimed at her.

"It's okay- You did what you could," Olivia comforted her as she came forward and gave her a hug.

"What my daughter said," Detective Mullens added as he came up beside Blossom and Olivia. "Besides, you've saved more than you didn't. I don't know if my boys could have done the same. I've lived through too many moments when they couldn't."

"You Girls rock!" one of the hostages shouted as he was being led by a police officer out of the theater - he happened to be passing by.

"Yeah!" a young woman beside the male hostage added. She was clutching his arm. They were a couple, presumably.

Bubbles, in the meantime, had returned to Blossom after her secret talk with Stanley Talker. On seeing her looking sad, she flew to her and hugged her from behind.

"Don't be sad, Blossom. You're better than either of us in crime-fighting," Bubbles tried to console her sister. "It's why you're our leader."

It had only compounded the guilt Blossom felt. She didn't comfort Bubbles as a sister should when she was upset. Instead, she'd shouted at her and even struck her - on multiple occasions. At that exact moment, she remembered what Dad had said about this - that they should stay together as sisters no matter what happens so that they would always have a family whenever they were far from home.

"I think it's time I take you Girls home," Agent Blake said as he approached the Girls.

"Just like before?" Blossom sniffled, feeling a little better as she was surrounded by friends and family. Her guilt, however, required another solution.

"Just like before," Agent Blake agreed.

"Oh yeah!" Buttercup really agreed even as she winced hobbled along to join the crowd. Blake scooped her up carefully so she didn't have to inch her way around painstakingly.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement-Downtown District Limits. En-Route to USDO Headquarters.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2031.**

It took Naga a while for her to come to. She had never been beaten so thoroughly in a one-sided battle before, not since she was something else - pond scum that would barely qualify as a human being. The moment she had awoken, she found herself sitting down, and when she tried to stand up, she found that she couldn't, and it wasn't just the sharp pain erupting in three of her arms, which rattled. Her hands were all cuffed to a bar on the seat ahead of her. She was in a prison bus, and she could easily guess that she was on a one-way street back into USDO custody.

All around her were seated heavily-armed USDO security officers and soldiers - about twenty of them were guarding her. Even without Duranium weaponry, they could easily overwhelm her as she had been chained by her broken arms and too much pain even without injury could knock her back into unconsciousness.

"Well, looks like our favorite four-armed freak's awake! Good evening, honey," one of the USDO soldiers walked up to her, greeting with what could only be sarcasm in his voice. A bald man in his thirties. She recognized him. He was one of the guards assigned to her since the very day she was transferred to the USDO back when it was still the shadowy Organization, back when she was still human. "I hope you're comfortable where you are."

"Very much, yeah. Thanks for the world-class limousine," Naga said defiantly. "It's real fucking comfortable. How's Carl and gang by the way?"

What Naga said last had pissed off the USDO soldier - she was referring to his security friends, those who were killed in her breakout. He punched her in the temple - the hardest punch he could muster. Yet still, the Naga laughed, brokenly and malevolently. No one in the soldier's security detail cared. They all knew the story, and a punch from a regular human being was far from what Naga deserved.

"You punch like a little girl," Naga insulted the man derisively. The USDO soldier grabbed her by the throat, squeezing it. As much as he was trying to choke the enhanced individual, he couldn't do it, however. Naga need only flex her neck muscles to prevent the squeeze - not to mention the fact that her windpipe could not be crushed with just the strength in a normal man's hand.

"Oh, you have no idea. You have no fucking idea," the bald soldier snarled with seething anger. "You're going to pay for what you did. We're going to make you cry and beg and squeal. You think your arms are broken? You have no idea. Just like how you have no idea how much fun we're going to have extracting every single scrap of information in your brain as we drill and cut and break you with Duranium. I'm going to personally feed you your spare arms if there's anything left of you after that."

With that, the USDO soldier gave her another punch, this time aimed at the jaw, which Naga laughed off all the same.

"I'm going to enjoy using you as a punchbag - and we still have plenty of time before we reach headquarters," the man growled as removed his XM4 carbine from his shoulder and placed it on his seat. "I'm sure you don't mind, milady - since I punch like a little girl. Like Bubbles, who defeated you on her own, I heard."

"Are you sure she defeated me on her own?" Naga said with a stubborn chortle.

As the prison bus ferrying Naga was en route towards the USDO HQ, a short, muscular and oddly-shaped creature was leaping from rooftop to rooftop in stealthy pursuit of the vehicle. Despite being organic, it was able to match speeds with the vehicle easily, and with stoplights slowing it down, caught up with it very quickly.

A red light came up just as the prison bus was about to turn a corner in a T-junction. Leaping from a shorter building a taller one, the oddly-shaped creature clambered up to the edge of the roof's ledge, looking down on the prison bus. There was no rush - and plenty of time for what came next.

The creature didn't even need to exert any strength to leap, nor brace itself for the task of falling off eight floors and down on a vehicle made of steel. Nor was it afraid as it fell, descending down upon the bus as gravity allowed, putting a huge man-sized crater on the roof of the bus.

USDO security officers and soldiers were scrambling within the bus, shouting. Shotguns, submachineguns, and rifles were pointed upwards. A staccato of rapid gunfire aimed at the crater came next, but the bus rocked as whatever was on the roof skittered on top. The bullets followed its vague path on the roof, putting holes in it but hitting nothing and revealing not a single part of the attacker, but every part of the USDO operatives' fears. Whatever that was attacking them was no ordinary human being. Or even a human being, for that matter.

The driver took the initiative, ignoring the red light to respond to the emergency. The skittering on the roof, however, was coming closer to him. Drawing his pistol even as he steered the bus with his other hand, he fired it upwards at the sound of the skittering. A furry, gloved hand, clearly not human, burst through the roof and seized him by his pistol hand, crushing it against his own weapon. The driver screamed. The inhuman arm was relentless, next seizing the driver by the throat and with a squeeze, crushed his windpipe and slammed him against the steel back of the bus cab section.

Without a driver, the bus swerved at the whims of the attacker as he gave the steering wheel a spin. It went over the curb and on the sidewalk, crashing into an apartment building. Before that happened, however, the attacker had punched another hole in the roof of the bus, pulled it wide open and jumped into the bus. Bracing himself for the crash, he watched as the officers and soldiers within the bus were thrown all over the passenger compartment while he remained rooted to the floor.

The commander of the prison bus had been sitting to the left of the driver in the large cab section of the prison bus. Like all the others, he had been thrown forward when the bus had crashed - his attempts at intervening when the driver was attacked had damned him to severe injury as he was out of his seat, and he was sent flying into the windshield. However, as he was strong and well-protected by helmet and kevlar, he wasn't out for the count.

Groaning, he was able to take a good look at the attacker during the lull after the crash: exposed brain covered in a reinforced glass dome, black fur, green discolored skin. It was wearing a cape over a bullet-resistant, loose-fitting uniform. White gloves, white boots. He lifted his XM4 carbine with difficulty as blood and cranial trauma clouded his vision. The thing turned to him and bashed the assault rifle away before he could fire. The commander's last memory was of the glowing, dark brown eyes of the beast now known as Mojo Jojo as there was a sudden laser flash from a weapon it pointed at him. He was instantly liberated from his own body as he felt a burning pain in his neck, tumbling back into his seat skull-first as he watched his body - which he could no longer control, tumbling to the floor of the bus. He could not breathe, nor shout orders and warn his comrades, and when enough blood had spurted from the arteries of his severed neck, he was finally granted his final rest.

Mojo Jojo continued to fire laser into the USDO guards surrounding Naga, beheading those who dared to stick their neck out and fire at him like their commander and slicing into them through the bus seats even when they didn't.

Before long, what was once a proud and dutiful twenty-strong squad was a mere fraction of it, both in manpower and spirit. Mojo Jojo strolled up the center aisle of the bus, clutching his chest. Out of the hundred or so bullets that struck him, a few had managed to dig into his skin, or even cause a hairline fracture or two, he imagined. It was a constant source of his jealousy for The Three – their creation using Chemical X as opposed to Chemical W, followed by exposure to Chemical X had given them better physical enhancements than him. But no matter – he knew he could bridge the gap with his intellect where the Girls would wallow in their own willful ignorance and flounder to learn even basic facts.

As the enhanced Chimpanzee neared Naga, who was crying in pain from her broken arms, another USDO soldier stood out and fired shots at the sapient animal, shots that ultimately did nothing as Mojo Jojo returned fire, cutting through the brave soldier's XM4 carbine and severing the brave soldier's arm, the wound spurting blood as the soldier grabbed at it as if his arm was still there, screaming as he fell.

Mojo Jojo walked up to him, pointing the laser pistol at the man's bald head, about to fire when Naga intervened:

"Wait," she said, before turning to look at the fallen man. "He's mine."

"The concept of revenge. A little payback. Tit-for-tat. I can understand vengeance, the close cousin of justice," Mojo Jojo lifted his weapon as he stepped back. "I saw what he was doing through the windows of the bus. Hitting you, striking you. He's yours."

With that, Mojo Jojo pointed his laser device at the chains of the shackles restraining Naga and fired, freeing her. With her one good arm remaining, the four-armed woman grabbed hold of the bar her chains were connected to and, with immense difficulty because of her injuries, broke it free with a loud 'thunk!' She held it menacingly over her USDO tormentor with a victorious grin on her face.

"Fuck you!" the soldier spat as he grimaced in pain while writhing on the floor. Naga swung her metal bar down at him wordlessly, striking him in the bald head, the sound of bone crunching loud and impossible to miss. She repeated the stroke multiple times, caving the man's skull in until he stopped writhing. Until the only thing moving on him was his twitching eyelids and cheeks. Naga thought she liked him better that way. True, he was one of the nicer security officers back then before she killed all his friends, but he was just as guilty as them by association. He was USDO, and that was enough of a reason to kill him.

She brought the steel bar down on him one last time, smashing his face to a pulp until there wasn't even any twitching left.

"I am glad you had your fill," Mojo Jojo said as he put a hand on Naga's shoulder, tugging gently. "But we must go now – bolt, flee, retreat!" There were sirens in the distance as if the city was coming alive and coming for them.

"No! I want to take this all in," Naga said, shrugging the Chimpanzee's gloved hand off. "I don't ever want to forget this beautiful scene."

Seconds later, she turned around.

"Thank you – for everything," Naga said.

"You saved me in my darkest, lowest, most terrible hour," Mojo Jojo said as he stood back to look Naga from head to toe. "It is only fitting that I do the same. It looks to me that our new ally does not value our lives and limbs." Mojo Jojo gestured at Naga's broken arms when referring to 'limbs'.

"It doesn't matter, as long as we have an ally as powerful as him," Naga said as she stumbled over the dead bodies on the floor of the bus, brushing past Mojo Jojo. "Pretty soon, Townsville, and even the entire nation, will bend to the Foundation's will."

"But in the meantime, Mojo will fix your arms," Mojo Jojo said. Naga smiled at him. They both clambered out of the corpse-filled bus together and ran. With their enhanced speed, they were long gone before the police could arrive on the scene.


	28. Chapter 24: Wrongs Righted

**Chapter 24: Wrongs Righted**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2105.**

The Girls, even Bubbles, had to undergo surgery again because of their fight in the Silver Age Cineplex. Blossom's slash wounds required dozens of stitches. Buttercup needed to have Naga's Duranium blade removed from her thigh, and the damage to the artery, muscle and skin there repaired. Bubbles was crying all the way home when the pain started flaring up like forest fires in her jaws and chest. As it turned out, Naga's punches had fractured her lower jaw and a few ribs, though the fractures weren't serious and needed no surgical intervention - the surgery part came in only when it came to the cut in her forehead and lower jaw, involving at least two dozen stitches.

The fact that she was feeling pain again, and as a result, fear and anxiety, worried Bubbles. The fairy godmother had blessed her with her magic tonight - but what about other nights? As naive as Bubbles was, she knew that crime wasn't going to disappear overnight just because she had defeated Naga. Without more of her magic, she was going to be afraid and anxious again, and she was going to fail and fight poorly at every turn. Blossom's love and forgiveness and Buttercup's acceptance, two things she had fought so hard for, two things she treasured the most, other than Dad and his love, would likely evaporate once more until things would go back to how it was.

The fairy godmother had made no mention of how she would help her from now onwards, but she could only hope that she would provide her with a steady supply of her magic.

Because there was one other thing she needed from it. The drug for the sake of itself. It'd felt good - so good. Pleasurable. Addictive. How it banished her fears and anxieties entirely. For now, even as she sat in the lab, it was as if the fear and anxiety in her were stronger than before - mostly because she knew that she would feel the worst of it next time, without the fairy godmother's magic. But there was something more. Somehow, her fears and anxieties were less controllable than ever.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2215.**

"Dad, there's something I need to tell you," Blossom said to her father as she was alone with him in the bathroom, getting a sponge bath from him as usual.

"What is it, sugar plum?" Professor Utonium said as he carefully wiped away the soap around her stitches with a sponge.

"I've been hurting Bubbles," she said, her voice shaking with a combination of sadness, regret, and fear of her own father. It was something she had to do - she knew that apologizing to Bubbles wasn't enough.

The professor stopped, and put down the wet sponge he'd been wielding, shocked at the implications of Blossom's confession.

"I… know. You pushed Bubbles in The Strip when you didn't like how she smelled," the professor said, hoping that that was the end of that. How could Blossom, the nicest and smartest of The Three, possibly be abusive to her sister?

"No, Dad. Even before that. And after, and… and it wasn't just because she smelled bad," Blossom said, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I slapped her when she didn't save me from the Purple Man… And I didn't just push her once when she didn't save those children in The Strip. I slapped her at the movies today and… she fell and hit her head on a car because of me."

"Oh honey…" the professor said, unsure of how to react to this.

"I'm sorry," Blossom apologized "I've changed, Dad."

"No… You haven't," the professor decided. "You're still my little Blossom. You're a good girl, sweetie."

"But I've hurt Bubbles so many times!" Blossom said, unable to believe her Dad's reaction.

"And you told me about it instead of hiding it," the professor said. "I won't deny that you've made a serious error in judgment - a series of it. But it's only human - and you've been going through some terrible things."

"I won't do it again, Dad," Blossom said. "I promise."

"Did you apologize to Bubbles?" he asked.

"Yes…" Blossom said.

"And did you promise Bubbles too that you won't hurt her again?" the professor asked.

"Yes," Blossom said.

"There will still be consequences though," the professor, however, said firmly. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Blossom agreed. They hugged after that.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1412.**

The next day, when the Girls had recovered enough, Professor Utonium left The House with Bubbles and Buttercup, taking them out for a puppet show extravaganza - something that would help them forget about the week's struggle.

Blossom, however, was excluded from the day's entertainment excursion as punishment. She was left behind at home with Selicia, whom the professor had entrusted with the parental duty of further providing some form of penalty for hurting her own dearest sister. Thomas and Selicia had agreed on an entire day's worth of house chores. As such, while Bubbles and Buttercup spent an hour laughing at puppets, many more on rides and games and chomping on burgers and fries, Blossom had to tidy her room, vacuum the rest of The House, mop it, clean the entire family's armory and every bathroom in The House. Lunch was oatmeal. Dinner was worse; a bowl of vegetable salad that Selicia had deliberately made plain and unappetizing.

What Thomas and Selicia did not agree to, which Selicia had kept secret, was when she'd asked Blossom to strip naked and sit on the toilet. Selicia, who was in her USDO security uniform because she had to report to headquarters in the morning for a security review, had brought her stun baton up. She'd kept her uniform on throughout the day for the authority it loan her. Now, she stood imposingly over Blossom, who was rendered helpless by her own guilt and Selicia's power over her as a parent. Furthermore, she was tired from slaving through chore after chore from lunch to dinner and demoralized from the lack of fun and a good meal.

It was the perfect set-up. Toilet aside, should the rest of the family return home unexpectedly, she could just hide the baton, clean Blossom up and claim that she was just about to give her a sponge bath.

"Do you know why I'm doing this, honey?" Selicia asked as she pushed a tab on the handle of her USDO-issued stun baton all the way up, setting the stun baton to maximum charge – which would be excruciating and paralyzing for a normal adult human being, but 'just' plain excruciating for any of the Girls.

"Because I've been a bad sister to Bubbles…" Blossom said, downcast.

"And Buttercup too," Selicia added to Blossom's list of guilt as her stun baton hummed with electricity. "Remember when I said your punishment will come? Well, this is it. You've been a very bad girl, Blossom."

"I know…" Blossom said, her eyes closed as she tried in vain not to cry. She had found it difficult to sleep last night because of it. "I'm sorry."

"Save it. Are you afraid?" Selicia asked, intending to stretch out the punishment and terror for as long as she could.

"Yes…" Blossom said as she took shallow, frightened breaths when she heard the scary electrical sizzling noise from Mom's stun baton. She recognized it from that time when she gave her a shock from it at the lowest setting during training, just so she and her sisters knew how it felt like.

"Now is that right?" Selicia said as she marched forward and jabbed the stun baton at Blossom's shoulder. Blossom inched back, but there wasn't much distance before she could feel the water tank of the toilet behind her.

"You don't know what is fear yet. Here, let me teach you," she said as Blossom was taking shallow breaths and crying in fear and expectation of an electric shock. Without warning, Selicia pushed the button, shocking Blossom and making her scream – not that there was anyone at home to hear it but Mom.

And she had a very good reason for putting Blossom on the toilet.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 2053.**

Blossom had been in bed ever since suffering Selicia's brutal punishment regime, curled up in a fetal position, her ample, fiery orange hair covering her like a blanket as she sobbed in her dark room, alone. It was imprinted in her memory now – how Mom had shocked her with the baton for half an hour straight, sometimes just waving it in front of her to scare her. She remembered falling off the toilet after her forced defecation and scrambling to a corner between the bathtub and the toilet, smearing the floor with her filth.

Her Mom had continued calling her names and shocking her regardless with her baton, and on top of that, blamed her for dirtying the toilet floor with her shit and urine.

By the time it was over, Blossom could barely remember being bathed by the same Mom who had been tormenting her and put to bed, spick and span as though nothing had happened at all. Selicia had intended this – even warned her that there would be more if she ever spoke of it, that she would further destroy the family if it was no longer a secret.

Despite her terrible ordeal, however, Blossom was able to force a smile through, in between sobs. She had been punished – and therefore free of her guilt. She had been a good girl, like what Daddy said. She had been honest about her mistakes, and that had set her free. She couldn't bear to imagine what it would be like to have to hide her terrible mistakes and look her Dad in the eyes every day, with her evil secret on the surface of her mind. She couldn't bear to imagine how she would face her sisters and lead them again, knowing that she was guilty and unworthy.

It was all over. And now, she was alone in her misery. But not for long.

Blossom did not hear the front door of The House open at first, but she did hear Dad's footsteps coming up the steps. For some reason, it'd made her anxious. Despite expunging her guilt, she was no longer sure of how to face him, or her sisters.

And speaking of which, her sisters had likely flown up the stairs as she didn't hear their footsteps. The door to her room had opened and the light switched on before she could react to them. Turning in bed, she saw that they were both clutching paper bags in both hands, smiles plastered on their faces.

Bubbles' smile quickly disappeared the moment she saw how obviously Blossom had been crying in her room – her face was still flushed, her cheeks were still wet, and her hair was uncharacteristically messy. Her red bow was askew and bent like the ears of a depressed bunny. Putting down her paper bags, Bubbles immediately rushed to her side.

"Blossom! Please don't cry, Blossom!" Bubbles comforted her sister the moment she saw how miserable she was. At a loss for what to do, she turned to Buttercup, who shrugged her shoulders – knowing little about emotions and empathy even within herself, she was even more hopeless when it came to comforting others.

But it didn't take long for Bubbles' to figure out a solution.

"Don't cry, Blossom, I've brought you something nice," Bubbles said.

"What is it?" Blossom sniffled, already doubting that anything could cheer her up. Bubbles' smiled at her mysteriously before turning around and, even more mysteriously, started rummaging through one of her paper bags. Carefully, she pulled something out of it before turning around and showing it to Blossom.

Blossom had been observing Bubbles with mild interest, her punishments, and mistakes still fresh on her mind.

Bubbles held up a pair of puppets in front of Blossom. They were puppets of the traditional variety, with handles for controlling the head and limbs. The puppets were styled after the Girls' favorite puppet show, Puppet Pals. Mitch had a purple bonker for hitting Clem, while Clem had a hat with a flower for Mitch to bonk. Blossom sat up, somewhat fascinated by this.

"Dad got one just for you. But you get to choose since you've been staying at home," Bubbles offered before flashing a toothy smile. Blossom considered the puppets and reached for Mitch at first before going for Clem. She remembered how Mitch would always hit Clem with the bonker, and she didn't like it – it had resembled her mistake too much.

Holding the puppet possessively, she played with it a little as if it was a doll before giggling and smiling back at Bubbles.

"Don't be sad, Blossom," Bubbles comforted her sister. "Maybe you could join us for a puppet show next time…"

"I don't deserve it," Blossom said instead and stopped smiling instead. In the back of her mind, however, it wasn't just her guilt weighing heavily in her mind. Her Mom's secret abuse was a constant source of emotional turmoil - but she couldn't tell anyone that. Like what Mom said - it could destroy the family if she did...

"Or we could play with our puppets together," Bubbles tried harder. "I find it hard to control Mitch – maybe you could teach me since you're smarter…"

Blossom had started sobbing again. She didn't like this. How things had resolved itself so quickly. How easy it was for Bubbles to come back to her. It had taken far longer for their classmates to like them again after their mistakes. It felt… wrong somehow. Like there's a price she hadn't fully paid up yet.

"Why are you being so nice to me, Bubbles?" Blossom said. "After everything I've done?"

"Because sisters are sisters, Blossom and love is love, just like Daddy said," Bubbles said. "I shouldn't have given you a reason to hit me…"

"No, Bubbles, it's all my fault…" Blossom swiftly corrected Bubbles. "I shouldn't have treated you that way no matter what."

What she didn't say, however, was the fact that she understood what it was like to do something really, really wrong. Like taking drugs.

Buttercup didn't like the looks of things. It was lost on her how good it'd made her sisters feel. It concerned her, however, that Bubbles was going to undo everything she had been doing to Blossom, not that the supposedly smartest of the three of them knew what was happening. Without Bubbles, Blossom was ripe to be influenced by someone else. Buttercup had hoped to turn Blossom into someone more like her and get on her good side so that she could extract favors from her and even be given the freedom to do as she wished – including grievously injuring criminals and killing them.

As much as Buttercup admired Bubbles' new power, she saw her as competition now – and somehow, she knew she would have to get closer to Blossom than Bubbles ever could. It was no easy task, as it was something she was never good at. This was contrasted with Bubbles, who didn't even need to try to be sweet and gain everyone's love and attention. Oh, how she hated that about Bubbles.

"Now isn't that sweet?" Blossom heard a male voice coming from the door. Turning to it, she saw that it was Dad, smiling at them. He laughed when he saw the silly look on Blossom's face – that in-between look in the middle of happy and sad. Blossom flew towards him for a hug.

"I'm sorry," the leader of The Three cried. "For everything."

"There, there, Blossom," Dad comforted Blossom as he patted her on the back as they hugged. "It's over now. You've served your 'sentence', so to speak. Now, how about supper?"

"Do I get to eat with you? And Bubbles and Buttercup?" Blossom asked hungrily, finally accepting the fact that she had paid her due for her mistakes.

"Of course, sunshine. We're a family after all," the professor agreed. "Now, chocolate pudding or cinnamon rolls?"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**12 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0820.**

Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks had been awake for hours - how many, she didn't know. Twelve? Twenty-four? Thirty-six? It felt like forty-eight this time, not that she cared. She had been lying in bed for the past… She had lost count of the number of days she had wasted away in bed. Had it been four days? Or seven? Perhaps even more.

Terrible memories continued to assail her the moment she realized she was still awake. She sobbed, having cried for hours since calming down yet many hours ago. Pulling a piece of tissue out from an ornate tissue box placed beside her, she blew her nose, and a mix of snot, both new and old, mixed with a dash of blood, dirtied the tissue. She balled it up and threw it aside ungracefully - no longer caring about the lady-like behavior she had been cultivating since she was old enough to walk and talk. The tissue ball joined a mountain of others next to her bed.

There was pain in her forearm. Friendly old Doctor Bill had inserted an IV drip into her to keep her hydrated and nourished. There was no other way she would drink or eat - what was the point? She knew that not doing any of those things would result in a lot of discomforts, then death, but she no longer cared. What was the purpose of living? When there was nothing for her in life - when she had no mother, no daddy who could stay with her for long, no friends, neither health nor future? When the person she called her BFF had abandoned her, just like all the others?

And the worst part was, Bubbles and her sisters had abandoned her for a very good reason. For days upon days now, Elodie had been playing and replaying the masquerade ball like a computer game - like one of those adventure RPGs. She would keep wondering what she could have done differently - and the terrible thing was, it felt as if she was locked into that single road by… everything. She couldn't disobey her father, and she couldn't convince Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup to abandon the party. She wouldn't even have found out that her dearest dad had been planning a demonstration of the Girls' abilities anyway. Even in her dreams, she kept wondering how she could have done something differently, and when something too fantastic happened and the problem was solved and she and the Girls would remain as friends, she would wake up from the dream only to cry and wish she was back in it.

In fact, she wished that she would fall asleep forever, never to wake up again. Sometimes, she was even convinced that her dreams had been the reality, and her life was the nightmare.

The sunlight had crept into the room an hour ago. But with half the curtains drawn, the room was dimly lit. Anything more would seem like an insult. The birds outside sang as if nothing bad had happened to her - all it did was to make her feel worst, not better, and there was no way to express the deep regret and sadness she felt as she had cried her eyes to aching exhaustion and desert-like dryness.

It was at this time that the door to her room swung open. Three sets of eyes pierced through the darkness in the corridor outside to look at her. One pair was glowing pink, another glowing baby blue, and the last pair was glowing lime green. The Princess stared at it for a long time, before turning in bed, deciding that they were just more of her hallucinations, manifestations of her wishful thinking. On the worst days, if there could be such a thing, she would think that she saw them, only to realize that she had mistaken certain things for one or all of the Girls. One of the butler's cat eyes, for example, or kites in the distance, flown by her neighbors.

"Princess?" one of them spoke. It was Bubbles - Elodie remembered the voice all too well. In the first few days, she'd clung to the memory of her voice for hope.

'We're best friends forever, Elodie. I'll be there for you forever and you won't have to be sad again,' Elodie remembered what Bubbles said word-for-word as they danced together in a waltz, savior, and victim hand-in-hand.

"Princess? It's me," the hallucination spoke again from the darkness. The eyes floated closer, like ghosts coming back to haunt her, until…

"Go away…" the Princess warned the hallucinations off hoarsely. "You're not real…"

"What are you talking about, Princess?" the hallucination of Blossom pressed on.

"Go! Away!" the Princess shouted and flung the ornate tissue box at the three sets of glowing eyes. They dodged it with ease.

"Hey, what gives!?" the hallucination of Buttercup exclaimed.

"Why won't you leave me alone!?" Princess shouted again with renewed sobbing. Taking a purple pillow, she hid her head under it, muffling her sobbing. "You're not real - you're not real - you're not real!"

"C'mon, let's go - she doesn't want to be our friend anymore," she heard the Buttercup hallucination say dismissively.

"You could be right…" the Blossom hallucination agreed.

"But… We've come all this way," the Bubbles hallucination said. "We have to try harder…"

"Hmm…" the Blossom hallucination wondered. "She doesn't think we're real- Bubbles? Bubbles, what are you doing?"

Elodie took a peek out of her pillow, only to find the three hallucinations of her best friends, who were now lost forever, floating closer to her such that she could see them fully, and they were wearing the same kind of dresses as they would normally wear whenever they came over to play, or when they were here on a stay-over. Each of them in a color matching their eyes, with a black sash around their waist - tall white socks and black Mary-Jane shoes. They were just like how she remembered them.

And the Bubbles hallucination was getting closer. The Princess bolted up when she realized it, looking like she had just seen a ghost.

"No! Stay away!" she screamed at the phantom-apparent, afraid of her because she was afraid of getting her hopes up only to realize that she had been talking to a hallucination, which would then dig open her wounds once more and make her regret and depression worst.

Wielding her purple pillow as a weapon, she threw it at Bubbles, who dodged it. The pillow didn't fly far - the Princess didn't even have the strength to hurl it across any real distance. Bubbles let herself drop to her knees in the Princess' queen-sized bed.

"Princess - it's me, Bubbles…" the memory manifestation said, still coming closer, walking on her knees. "Don't you recognize me?"

The Princess backed away, only to meet the huge, oaken headboard of her bed, a look of abject terror in her face as she feared getting her hopes up with just another hallucination.

"No! Go away!" Elodie screamed as Bubbles came closer. "You're not real! No!"

Elodie threw a slap at what she thought was a hallucination, only for it to seize her by the wrist. Bubbles then took her by the arms and gave her a tight hug.

And it felt real. It felt very, very real. There was warmth, and the familiar sensation of touch - the touch of someone who cared, who was her friend for sure. Elodie sobbed hard and shook with the release of emotions when she realized that maybe, just maybe, it was real this time.

"Shh… Elodie, it's okay…" Bubbles comforted Elodie as the depressed little girl hugged her back, and couldn't get enough of it. "I'm here now."

"Is this another dream?" Elodie would then say, still delirious from her week-long act of self-destruction. "Is this real?"

Bubbles looked her in the eyes and made eye contact. Elodie's eyes were entirely red from hours of crying and a couple of days of sleeplessness.

"Yes, I'm real, Elodie," Bubbles said as she hugged her again. Elodie held on tightly to her, as if afraid that she might be whisked away by something again – whether it was fate, ill luck, or duty.

"It really is you- I- I've- missed you so much!" Elodie struggled to speak through her sobbing and exhaustion.

"I told you I'll never leave you alone," Bubbles comforted. "I'm sorry I didn't visit. I was just…"

Bubbles' voice had trailed off, taken away by her demons. Elodie was sad, but so was she.

"It's been a terrible week," Bubbles finally managed, herself shedding tears and sniffling.

"But I'm sure things are going to get better from now on," Blossom encouraged the two as she floated over to them, ever the leader. She put an arm around Bubbles' shoulder. "Right, Bubbles?"

"Of course she's right – you got your cool new power and all that!" Buttercup joined in and tried to blend in, not wanting to be left out and lose out.

"Right…" Bubbles agreed reluctantly, still acutely aware that she had done something terrible to gain her sisters' approval. She had obscured the truth about her 'new powers'.

Together, the four girls hugged, and for the moment, they were happy.

**END OF ACT 1: PRICE OF PEACE**

**For a preview of Act 2's artwork, visit this chapter on Archive of Our Own.**


	29. Chapter 25: Leap of Faith (ACT 2)

**(Note: To see artwork for Act 2, visit this fanfic and this chapter on Archive of Our Own.)**

* * *

**ACT 2: HIS SECRET**

**"All sins tend to be addictive, and the terminal point of addiction is damnation." - W. H. Auden**

* * *

**Chapter 25: Leap of Faith**

**The City of Townsville. Townsville Industrial Park. Church of the New Trinity.**

**12 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1130.**

After parking the family saloon on the side of the road, Professor Utonium turned the ignition key and switched off the engine of the car. It sputtered into silence. Getting out of the car, he could only wonder if he was at the right location - after all, one does not normally find a church in the middle of an industrial or warehousing district. And yet, the address that was given to him clearly indicated a warehouse to be the 'Church of the New Trinity' itself.

Selicia got out of the shotgun seat while Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup hovered their way out of the passenger door on the driver's side. They were all dressed formally - the professor in a suit and tie, Selicia in a black dress while the Girls were in formal versions of their favorite color-coded dresses, puffier than the everyday dress, but less so than their party dresses. Their waist sashes had bows tied at the side rather than at the back. Blossom had additional red ribbons adorning her hair. Bubbles' ponytails were held together by shiny-blue ribbons. Buttercup was wearing the same green hair band she wore to Elodie's Masquerade ball, which she hated.

A fair distance away, several humvees and an APC stopped, disgorging USDO soldiers taking up defensive positions. The location was so suspicious that the Powerpuff Task Force detail guarding the Girls had to consider it a potential trap and ambush and send in more troops than usual. Undercover agents had already been sent in from the nearest USDO outpost beforehand - and while the entire city block had been scoured for enemy presence only to reveal none, Captain Scott, the man in charge, had still decided not to leave anything to chance.

"Are you sure this is the place, Thomas?" Selicia asked as she studied the warehouse that was supposed to be a church. The first thing that caught her eye was the name of the church, proudly displayed on the facade of the warehouse. 'Church of the New Trinity', it read. She couldn't recall what could possibly be the 'New Trinity'. She knew only about the usual trinity in Catholicism.

"Thirty-seven Chester Road - Olson Warehousing," the professor had pulled a card out of his suit's chest pocket and read the address from it. "Yep, this seems to be the place."

"Odd place to have a mass," Selicia said as she took her handbag out of the car.

"It looks dirty…" Bubbles said as she came up next to Dad, holding his left hand.

"It kinda looks boring, too," Blossom added as she followed her Dad, holding his right hand.

"Do we have to, Mom?" Buttercup whined as she came up next to her, holding her right hand. "I'd rather stay at the Princess' mansion. I was stuffing myself with lots of good food..."

Selicia did not answer. It felt as if there was no choice in the matter when it came to religion. The bishop at the Cathedral Basilica of The Most Pure wasn't happy when Buttercup had practically threatened one of his priests with death, and although he hadn't expressly forbidden Buttercup nor the rest of the family from visiting again, she didn't want to find out what the reception would be like after that.

Right before they left the cathedral, the kindly old woman sitting near them had pulled them aside, and given them a card - the card Selicia gave to Thomas, which was what led them here. The card had introduced them as the Church of the New Trinity. She assumed it to be another Catholic church. Only, the warehouse before them didn't look like the usual kind of church. For one thing, the shape of it was completely wrong. It'd reeked of all kinds of wrong - but her security friend, Captain Scott, had provided a certain degree of assurance if things were a certain kind of wrong.

As the family approached the main entrance of the 'church', which was a huge set of double-door large enough and tall enough to accompany a forklift with a triple stack of crates (which was likely the original purpose of the entrance), two attendants on either side, one a woman, the other a man, both wearing white suits, smiled at them, or specifically, at the Girls. For some reason, Blossom found it a little creepy but smiled back regardless. Bubbles, although traumatized by her time in The Strip, did not let it break her stride, and smiled back too. Buttercup didn't care and simply frowned with her arms crossed as Selicia pulled her along as if she was a balloon.

Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup, and their assigned 'parents' were backed up by an excess of eight USDO guards, who stared menacingly at the attendants in their full combat gear. Four of them flanked the family, the other four were right behind them. It didn't seem to intimidate the attendants.

"Greetings to the Three of You, Holy Ones," the woman welcomed the family as they approached, taking a deep bow. The male attendant did the same. "And to the nurturers of the Holy Ones."

"Welcome," the male attendant echoed. "Please, we humbly invite you to our House of God - Your house."

Professor Utonium could not help but to raise an eyebrow at the way they were referring to them. The change in tone was obvious even to the Girls - whose previous encounter with religion did not put them on a pedestal. If anything, they were treated with suspicion in the previous church and they knew it, though they didn't hold anything against the bishop as he was nice since he taught them a prayer, and got his friend, the priest, to listen to their troubles.

Still slightly bowed, the attendants then proceeded to open the wide and tall doors. The Girls and their Dad and Mom were about to make a move when they were politely interrupted.

"Before You enter Your House, may You please bless us with Your touch?" the female attendant beseeched the Girls, mainly asking Blossom as she was closest.

"Yes, please bless us with Your touch," the male attendant repeated, directing his question to Buttercup.

Blossom responded wordlessly by hovering up to the female attendant's chest level and sticking out a hand for her to shake. The female attendant took it with both her larger hands, brought it to her lips as she bowed and kissed it. Blossom retracted it, shocked at the extreme display of adulation.

"Thank You… Thank You so much!" the female attendant gasped, her smile graduated to a fulfilled, toothy grin as she was on the verge of tears.

Meanwhile, Buttercup had stuck out a hand – the male attendant was more reserved, and he shook it. Buttercup gave it a squeeze, which caused the man to grimace in pain.

"Thank You kindly," he groaned as he retracted his hand, rubbing it.

"You're welcome," Buttercup said with a mischievous grin as she returned to her Mom's side. Selicia had seen what had happened, and she chuckled to herself because she thought it was funny – and that Buttercup was cute when she was playful. Cute and playful was better than psychopathic and homicidal.

Bubbles approached the Catholic cultist Buttercup had hurt and opened wide her arms for a hug. The man gasped as he realized what she was offering. He mirrored the gesture, and Bubbles proceeded to give him a brief hug, which melted him. Bubbles had seen what Buttercup did, and she felt sorry for the attendant. He seemed nice and didn't deserve to be hurt for it.

The inside of the warehouse-church was unexpectedly well-kept and furnished. Where there used to be industrial shelves, giant crates, and forklifts, there were rows upon rows of pew, each row eight or ten pews long from left to right – none within the family could decide how many exactly as they couldn't see where each pew started and ended.

Many hundreds, perhaps even a thousand church attendees stood up when they saw who were coming to their Church, approaching them. A pair of ushers came up to them, gesturing kindly for them to follow. The USDO guards were watching them like hawks, ready to pick apart their prey at the slightest provocation.

"May I ask what's going on?" the professor questioned one of the ushers, who looked sheepish, too calm considering the black-geared, no-nonsense black ops soldiers surrounding them. The usher looked at him as though he didn't know what Newton's three laws were.

"Don't you know? You're the Father of the New Trinity. Just as Saint Joseph is the father of Jesus." the usher said. She was a mere teenager, perhaps all the better to be indoctrinated. As a boy, Professor Utonium had been to the church, not a Catholic church, but the kind with a Sunday school in it. He didn't find the experience pleasant nor tolerable.

"What, and am I supposed to be Mary, Mother of Jesus?" Selicia said sarcastically. She didn't like that these people - whoever they were - had butchered the Catholic faith.

"Yes. It is known," the other usher, also a teenage girl, concurred.

"It is known," the first usher repeated. Selicia couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

They were led through the center aisle. Every single pair of eyes in the warehouse-church were on them as they approached the front, looking like royalty marching in with a contingent of honor guards. There was a stage up front, with a podium, where an aging man stood. Bubbles thought he looked familiar. She blinked her eyes a few times to make sure she was seeing him right.

Yes - he was the same priest she had saved back in the Battle of Morbucks Industries Research Labs. Behind him, where the stage ended, was stained glass, three of them specifically, created in the image of the Girls. In the center was Blossom, the glass representing her in various shades of red, orange and beige. Bubbles was on the left - or the right hand of stained glass Blossom, in shades of light blue, gold, and beige. Finally, Buttercup was on the right - or the left hand of stained glass Blossom, in shades of lime green, black and beige. They were depicted as angels, complete with a halo hovering above their heads. Sunrays coming from the skylight illuminated them for all to see.

"Welcome to the Church of the New Trinity, Holy Ones," the bishop at the makeshift pulpit greeted, then turned to Bubbles. "And thank You, once more, for saving my life, o' Holy One, and gracing me with Your presence once again."

"Urm… I'm just glad to help…" Bubbles said shyly, feeling her cheeks turning red from the language being lavished upon her.

"Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is George Luther - I was once blind to the truth, and now, cast out as a heretic by those I formerly called friends, I seek to spread it," the old man spread his arms out as he identified himself. "And now the three of You stand before me. What do you think, Holy Ones? What do You think of my work?"

"Why do you keep calling us Holy Ones?" Blossom asked, flattered but confused. She had a feeling that something wasn't quite right. Her one day in church had taught her enough about religion to know that 'holy' tend to be a word associated with God, Jesus, or the Trinity.

"But You are the Holy Ones, are You not?" George asserted. "Angels sent down to Earth by God to do battle against evil?"

"I don't know about angels and god, but I am here to fight evil…" Blossom tried to clear things up with the church founder, though she herself was distracted by her blushing - the church leader sure had a way with words. "Crime, I mean. And so are my sisters, right?"

"Right!" Buttercup replied enthusiastically, with power in her voice. In her mind, she cared nothing for what the priest thought. The bare mention of fighting evil and crime had brought back fond memories of how she had erased certain criminals physical - for good.

"I guess…" Bubbles said - still with reservations about everything. She didn't feel 'holy' in any way, not with what she had done in secret to help her sisters and the citizens of Townsville.

George Luther the cult leader smiled at them - it was an oddly fatherly kind of smile. Behind the Girls and their Dad and Mom, the congregation was listening intently, taking in every single word from the Girls as though it was gospel.

"I'm glad to hear that," George said. "Now please - I have seats prepared for the five of You…" And they were led by ushers to a kind of VIP corner by the stage - except it was probably reserved for the apparently divine. The seats were expensive sofa surrounding a coffee table, like a part of a living room transplanted to the warehouse.

Professor Utonium had something to say about this - a lot, in fact. There was just too much going on, much of which infuriated him to the point where he didn't know whether he should be laughing or blowing up. However, seeing that the Catholic cultists seemed friendly enough, he decided not to trash the occasion - however misguided he thought it was - and got along with the program. Selicia, on the other hand, was feeling something similar, except with an infusion of confusion thrown in. Moreover, she couldn't help but to wonder if there were benefits to be had by practically being declared a living saint, with the Girls being considered divine…

The rest of the day was one of exploration and surprising excitement, even for the skeptical. The Girls and their assigned 'parents', in the meantime, were treated like royalty - this was even extended to the USDO soldiers guarding them, who were constantly being referred to as the 'Knights of the Trinity'. Their every whim was catered to, though they were restrained in asking for anything, sometimes with the professor's influence. The Girls were given drinks and snacks - fizzy sodas and biscuits - on request when the professor allowed it. The 'servants' would offer all sorts of things - a change of clothes, meals, massages, soft toys - but those offers were ultimately rejected, either because the Girls (with the exception of Buttercup) were too shy to accept them or the professor wouldn't allow it.

The former bishop, George, in the meantime, had been preaching from a refreshingly different angle, one that was never explored in the Catholic orthodoxy, and they were all tied to the Girls one way or another. His sermon could only be described as grounded and earthly, despite the religious context. They were, however, a jumble of half-conceived rhetoric and points fused to one another on the fly. According to George, the Girls were sent down from heaven the same way Jesus was - through the USDO and Thomas and Selicia (whom he thought were the biological parents of the Girls). The professor couldn't help but crack a condescending smile at this.

According to George, the Girls were also doing God's work by banishing crime from Townsville, and he believed that it was through them that all of humanity's sins would be cleansed once more. A new era of world peace would result in the conclusion of the Girls' campaign against crime and evil. The only useful thing the professor thought had come from the preacher's mouth was that he advocated total cooperation and conviction with the Girls as they continued their divine work of cleansing the city. It meant a few thousand less hateful citizens arrayed against the Girls, no matter what the future held, and potentially more if the Catholic cult did not wither away for one reason or another.

The rest of the mass was conducted similarly to a typical Catholic mass, except with the whole 'New Trinity' slant, with the Girls included into their prayers, whether they were prayed for or prayed to. For the latter, the Girls were even invited up on stage so that they might 'receive their prayers'.

When the prayers were over, the Girls were asked - with the professor's approval - to 'bless the congregation'. Men, women, and children would flock to them and form a queue. Some would bestow upon the Girls gifts - anything from food to thank-you cards, to trinkets and toys and even money (which the professor rejected). Some would merely ask to touch them or ask that they kiss their children and babies. Some would offer quick prayers. The Girls were thrilled, if guardedly so, as they expected politeness and appreciation at most, not literal worship and utter devotion. Blossom thought that it was a welcome reprieve from the harshness of crime fighting, Bubbles was blushing so hard she thought her cheeks might actually start a fire, while Buttercup just enjoyed the chocolate she was getting.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Townsville Industrial Park. Church of the New Trinity.**

**12 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1255.**

"It's not that I don't appreciate how you've been treating the Girls, George," Professor Utonium said as he sat in the guest chair before the bishop-turned-heretic's desk, which was located in what was once the warehouse foreman's office. He caught a glimpse of the man's self-styled title printed on a stand placed on the desk: Saint George Luther. "But don't you think you've gone too far? The Girls - they don't need to be worshiped. There's no telling what that would do to their prepubescent minds!"

"But the Angels of Justice are angels, sent down by God himself," George explained with infinite patience, leaning back calmly on his comfortable-looking boss chair, which was high-backed, and as white and expensive as the living saint looked in his white suit. "And even if their flesh is as weak and young as they look, surely being showered with love can't have any deleterious effects on their minds? Do you not agree?"

"With all due respect, 'saint'," the professor pressed on - he did not have infinite patience where once he thought he possessed it. "You don't understand a single thing about them! I can appreciate that you've taken a leap of faith when you left the Catholic church - but faith can only get you so far. The Girls - they're each suffering in their own way. Crime-fighting has taken a toll on them - I've heard your rhetoric, and you're going to add pressure to the Girls when there's no need-" By this, he was largely referring to Blossom and Bubbles, who each were succumbing to the pressure of fighting crime in their own ways. "-and you're encouraging certain behaviors that shouldn't be encouraged. Frankly, you're getting in the way of my parenting!" And by that, he was thinking of Buttercup, who certainly did not need religious backing for her violence.

"But they're the Angels of Justice - they can do no wrong," the saint said, too serene for the professor's own liking. So calm that the professor wanted to yell at him. Or even manhandle him. "And even if they appeared to have erred, it is likely to be part of a great plan. After all, even Jesus himself could be tempted. Even Jesus, when given the flesh of man, needed to grow up."

"The Girls are a product of science and technology, much of which even the brightest of the USDO are still struggling to understand!" the professor corrected the man, feeling his blood boil.

"And God has worked through their hands," the saint added reflectively. "I do pray that the Girls will be here next week… My congregation would be thrilled to have them again, and the church will always welcome them. I am not blind to the Girls' struggles, Father of Angels. It doesn't take much to imagine the trials and tribulations one must go through to face evil… Perhaps this church could be a sanctuary for them."

"Don't bet on it," the professor said as he rose from his seat. Looking around at the saint's office, he could see that it was finely decorated. The desk and the chairs were only a start. Then there were the marble statues, a fountain, pedestals with books - mostly religious text, as well as paintings and posters… It irked him that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were in some of the paintings and posters, depicted as larger-than-life angels. "But I'll bet you must be pretty well off by now, 'saint'."

George Luther had been signing a few documents when he heard the title a second time. Sighing, he put his fountain pen down and paused for a second, as if tired - for once acting as old as he was.

"I didn't choose to be canonized as a saint - this is not 'my cult'," the religious figure said, his voice heavy, and even the professor had to admit that he could detect sincerity in it. "My flock wanted it - needed it. We're surrounded by unbelievers, some of whom will do us harm. You say that I do not understand the Girls and the science behind them, but heed me when I say that you don't understand the workings behind my faith, and the movement I started to tell the truth of it. All this - it's just to look good. Some people need to be drawn in before they would hear the truth."

Without a word, the professor turned around and walked away.

"Can I still convince you to bring the Girls here next week?" the cult leader asked, without raising his voice, without even a hint of a forceful assertion. He was humble, even. The professor stopped.

"No," he said without looking back.

"As you wish, Father of Angels," George said, surprisingly compliant. "It is your decision - and this must be part of God's plan. We will pray for you and your wife, and to your Holy Children."

"Whatever. If that's what you believe in," the professor said nonchalantly, and with that, left the saint's office.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**12 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1442.**

Ever since returning from a family lunch outside and after the encounter with the Catholic cult, the professor had been busy with his very own leap of faith. Carefully inserting a tube into a machine, he locked it in and tapped a few buttons on it. The tube contained a version of the Anti-X he manufactured, and he had decided to just move on from the theories and calculations to the practical tests, cutting short the development time of the Anti-X by a week or two.

It was a dangerous gamble, but it had to be done. Bubbles was barely hanging on, and even if she had found confidence with her new power - which he had yet to investigate - he felt that it was all but certain that something would emerge to destroy it again. Buttercup, on the other hand, did not need to be exposed to violence and crass adult behavior that would worsen her psychopathy and cause her to act on it. Even Blossom was feeling the effects of doing an adult's job hard - mainly, the pressure that came with deciding the life and death of family, friends, strangers, and enemies. The mistakes she made and the punishments he and his 'wife' was forced to mete out had likely changed her for life if her experience in crime-fighting hadn't already.

Despite the corners he was cutting, the Anti-X in its current form was by no means crude nor simple to make. Based on his Chemical X Unifying Theory, Chemical X was made more reactive to all other forms of matter by the use of bridging molecules bonding with Chemical X itself, which also had the effect of stabilizing the Chemical X such that the mutability of its molecular structure was better controlled and the molecular structure of the enigmatic substance had a greater degree of permanence. The use of chemicals code-named 'Sugar', 'Spice' and 'Everything-Nice' had achieved such an effect.

His ideas for Anti-X was focused on this property of stabilized Chemical X, and he had several just in case one or more of them would fail to achieve the intended effect or would even go on to cause some nasty side effects.

The most straightforward idea he had was to destroy the Chemical X itself. While indestructible even with a concentrated blast of gamma radiation or even a nuclear bomb, different kinds of Chemicals were known to destroy each other on contact. This was discovered by accident years ago when there was a mix-up on the part of a research assistant and the resultant cross-contamination between Chemicals U and V causing the partial destruction of both. The destruction itself, however, wasn't explosive - there was a discharge of an as-yet-unknown form of energy resembling light and electricity before an amount of mass would disappear. The mechanisms for this was still unknown, and as a reconstruction of the incident yielded no real data that could suggest practical applications for the effect beyond a curious light show, investigation into this was discontinued in the past.

It was only now that the professor thought that it was a grave error on his part.

While Professor Utonium had no idea if Chemical X could be destroyed using other Chemicals, he was confident that it might, based on his Unifying Theories - he knew that the chemical reactions could be extra-dimensional, not just within the known dimensions. The possibilities as to what could happen, thus, were limitless. However, he also knew what could stop it from happening - the stabilizing chemicals that anchor Chemical X to this dimension could be too strong for other Chemicals to overcome. Thus, his other ideas were born.

He had devised the necessary experimental set-up and processes required to synthesize the catalyzing agents and reactive compounds necessary to 'plug' the stabilizing agents, which also acted as bridging molecules necessary for Chemical X to react with mundane molecules. Once the bridging molecules were 'plugged', the Chemical X would be rendered inert - unable to form new reactions. In theory, this could disempower the Girls.

However, in case that fails, he also had plans to synthesize enzymatic compounds and accompanying catalysts to disconnect and destroy the bridging molecules instead, achieving the same effect, leaving the Chemical X dormant in the Girls. There was no telling what effect any of his methods would have on the Girls, however.

Which was why he couldn't cut any more corners. While he could just wing it with the theories and calculations in their third or fourth draft, to inject the Girls - any of them - with his Anti-X without previous testing was basically a gamble with their lives as chips on the table. As much as it pained him to do so, he would have to test the various Anti-X iterations exhaustively, starting with tests on cells, then plants and animals and finally, the Girls.

The machine the professor had inserted with the Anti-X had thin hoses running into the bell jars arranged on a table containing the Chemical-X-infused plants. He had been testing his Anti-X iterations on cells for long enough. He knew he had to move on to plants when all three of his devised Anti-X variants were successful in disempowering individual cells. Pressing a few buttons on the machine, the professor aerosolized the Anti-X, before dispersing them to a third of the plants. He'd repeated the test with all three Anti-X variants.

It was a long and slow process to discover if his various Anti-X solutions worked. Physical observations of the plants weren't enough. He had to obtain cell samples from all his plant subjects, dye them, put them under the microscope and finally use his supercomputer to analyze the concentration or status of the Chemical X in the cells. All the while, he'd held much hope and anticipation in his heart, and when all three Anti-X alternatives failed in their intended purpose so early in their developmental phases, he'd lost it. The perceived failure, in his state of mind, meant more suffering for his beloved Girls - unable to swallow it, he'd taken it out on his desk, sweeping its contents to the floor and kicking the bottom drawer multiple times even if it hurt his foot, until it gave way, until all three drawers on that stack tumbled to the ground in a domino effect.

That was when another idea struck him, and this time, he was much more confident it would work.

But even a successful Anti-X wasn't enough to free the Girls. There was still the matter of creating a replacement for them, a replacement or replacements, approved by the USDO, who would ensure that his treasured little girls would never have to lift a finger to defend people many times their age again.


	30. Chapter 26: Rules To Follow

Reply to Guest (Ch 29): (Moved to bottom because it's lengthy)

* * *

**Chapter 26: Rules To Follow**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**12 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1610.**

Selicia had taken the opportunity to train the Girls during their free time after church, and Bubbles was terrified – no, not just terrified. Words could not justify what she was feeling. What was once an anxious affair had become nerve-wracking. She could see her guilt riddled all over the lab, with every change of expression her sisters and Mom made, with every word they said. Bubbles had been suspicious of her family since the day she used her fairy godmother's magic to defeat Naga. She was afraid that they would know about her secret, or that they'd found out all along. She was paranoid, even, that they were just waiting for the right moment to pounce on her and jump down her throat for using the drug. Even worse; in her terror, she could imagine Blossom and Buttercup abandoning her once more, even beating her up for her mistakes, which was the next logical step from Blossom hitting her, even if her leader sister had promised not to hurt her anymore.

Bubbles had been sitting on the sideline as she watched in horror as Blossom and Buttercup sparred – for every fanciful punch or kick they hurled at each other, time was ticking by, counting down to her turn on the arena. And she knew she couldn't even put up a half-convincing performance without a dose of the fairy godmother's magic.

Buttercup had been going at Blossom aggressively, as usual, doing a spinning kick before landing and executing a series of butterfly kicks and forcing Blossom to back away. Blossom, on the other hand, was much more reserved. Strategizing with the time she had. Like a hawk watching its prey for an opportune moment to strike, like a spider waiting for its prey to falter or draw closer, Blossom was biding her time.

And it eventually came. After a third Butterfly kick, Buttercup stumbled, having lost her balance from dizziness. Blossom needed simply to tackle her, forcing her to the ground, and when Buttercup tried to punch her way out on the floor, Blossom parried them, redirecting them, before pinning her arms to her chest.

"Not fair!" Buttercup growled in frustration after Selicia declared Blossom the winner. It was the third time in the row. "She's using the same trick over and over!"

"So find a way to beat her trick, Buttercup! Instead of charging at her blindly like a bull!" Selicia said as she patted Blossom on the shoulder to get her to let go, which she did. As much as she liked Buttercup the most, she was frustrated with her lack of cunning. In this training session, she was hoping that Buttercup would at least become Blossom's equal, but it hadn't happened. If anything, Buttercup had regressed from being Blossom's near-equal. The first six matches had been a back-and-forth, with Blossom winning the first round, then Buttercup the second. The pattern repeated itself, until the seventh round, when Buttercup had won a second time in the row. Just when Selicia thought that she had it, Blossom had then gone ahead to win the next three rounds by simply being much more careful and tactical, letting Buttercup's arrogance and tiredness get the better of her.

"But- but- If the same trick works over and over, shouldn't mine do that too?" Buttercup argued back.

"Sit your butt down and use that head of yours to think Buttercup!" Selicia shut her down impatiently. Her comment had stung deeply. She had never criticized her so harshly before. Crossing her arms, Buttercup hovered away to the sideline, sulking.

"It's your turn, Bubbles! Get over here!" Selicia called out to her. Even before she did, Bubbles had already become an unnerved quivering wreck, with sweat running down her forehead and the blood drained from her face as if she was back in that panic room where the Morbucks and their acquaintances were nearly crushed to death had it not been for her.

Meekly, she stood up, and when she found that her knees were buckling, took to hovering to the center of their makeshift arena in the middle of the lab.

"Bubbles? Are you okay?" Blossom whispered to her sister when she realized something was wrong, still unable to come to terms with her past mistakes. Bubbles shook her head, unable to find the will to even speak.

"Bubbles, are you ready?" Selicia asked the blue-eyed of the two. Despite being clearly unready, Bubbles nodded her head. Although Selicia knew that she wasn't entirely truthful, she allowed the match to go ahead: "Begin!"

Blossom raised her fist in a defensive posture and waited. Bubbles did the same but did not attack.

"What are you waiting for?" Blossom mouthed cautiously at Bubbles – she knew that her Mom would not like any form of 'staging' or 'collusion'.

At being egged forward, Bubbles tried to let out a brave shout only for it to sound frightened and anemic. She charged forward with a fist winded up for a punch, attempting to imitate her less fearful self. Blossom was able to sidestep her with tremendous ease and trip her, then pin both her arms behind her back.

"You're learning all the wrong things from Buttercup, Bubbles!" Selicia yelled at Bubbles, exasperated. "Get up and try again!" Buttercup, in her corner, couldn't help but break a tear from what her Mom said, but it was only a momentary spurt of empathy from the silver lining in her head, brought on by Bubbles' intense anxiety and misery.

"What about your new power, Bubbles?" Blossom suggested as she dusted her meek sister off. "Why not use it?"

"But- it's urm… ur…" Bubbles searched everywhere desperately for an answer. She sort of found it while she was looking at Selicia, who was looking sternly at her with her arms crossed over her bosom.

"It's against the rules to use our powers…" Bubbles finally said, knowing very well that she was misinforming her sister. It was the second time she had outright lied about her new 'power', and the umpteenth time she had passed up an opportunity to tell the truth. She'd never liked lying - and the only reason it was bearable for her was that the fairy godmother's magic was the only thing that could free her from fear and give her the strength to fight crime and by extension, preserve the sisterhood between her, Blossom and Buttercup.

"Oh, right," Blossom said. "Why didn't I think of that?" Despite being the smartest between the three of them, Blossom was none the wiser when it came to Bubbles' secret - and it made Bubbles feel worse. Her leader sister had placed complete trust in her - trust that she had to constantly betray from now on.

Bubbles would go on to lose the next two rounds trying to invoke her 'new ability' without the drug. On her second try, she charged Blossom with a whiny shout and a spinning kick - with the latter actually well-executed but futile - before getting taken down in a tackle mid-spin. On her third try, she went in with a flying kick and missed, before taking a punch to the side and the neck. She went down after getting forced to her knee when Blossom kicked her in the thigh and was restrained with an arm lock.

By the sixth round, Selicia had given up on Bubbles, and called the whole thing off as it was a one-sided wipeout every single time.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**12 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1923.**

Bubbles had spent the rest of the day miserable and being afraid, despite the victory she had won for Blossom and Buttercup back at the cinema. Holed up in her room, she was having a tea party with Blossom and (reluctantly) Buttercup, but she was hardly paying attention, unable to enjoy it, knowing that everything she had gained could just disappear with just a buzz of the USDO hotline.

"Are you okay, Bubbles?" Blossom asked as she was putting down the kettle - she had noticed that something wasn't right with Bubbles all day. In training, she had put it down to nervousness and over-reliance on her powers, but she had no clue what could be causing it while they were just playing. Bubbles looked the same either way - sweating even when as enhanced individuals, they were highly resistant to heat, and going pale despite a supercharged adaptive circulatory system that could work even with half her blood gone.

"I'm fine," Bubbles lied and flashed a fake smile. However, beyond the surface lie, she struggled to think of a reason for her current freak-out. Their Dad had conducted a medical and scientific examination of them before dinner, and he'd remarked that they were in perfect health. "Just… tired, I guess."

"I'm sorry about the training," Blossom apologized as she took a sip from her tea. "I tried to make it end as quickly as I could."

"It's fine," Bubbles said and added nothing more. Silently, she took a sip from her tea as well, while leaning on Octi's chair.

"Maybe I'll talk to Mom," Buttercup said unexpectedly, after downing an entire cup of tea, hating the taste but liking the hydration it provided. "Maybe she'll let you use your new power. I really wanna see it again!" Perhaps that way, she might find a way to beat it and win back her Mom's favor.

Buttercup had inadvertently added nothing but more pressure on top of the crushing boulder on top of Bubbles. Her toughest sister wanted to see it, but it was uncertain if she could ever provide an encore, and she couldn't imagine what would happen when she couldn't provide it again not if, but when it was required of her.

"I'm going to bed…" Bubbles said weakly and meekly as she got up from the table and walked away. Blossom stared after her, worried.

"Bubbles- the party just started!" Blossom objected.

"It's not like a real party anyway," Buttercup said as she took the opportunity to get up and leave too. "Not like Elodie's."

"Oh, fine…" Blossom sighed, resigned that there wasn't much fun to be had tonight. She took a sip of her tea alone, and without the distraction of her girlish fun, felt the pressure of being a leader once more. What if Bubbles' new power was just a one-off event? How would she keep Buttercup from harm? How would she keep Bubbles away from harm? How would she even do all that and save innocent lives at the same time? Or do well enough in an operation? How would she even achieve anything?

Disapproving voices were beginning to swirl around Blossom as she leaned against her pink kiddy table, clutching her forehead as she was beginning to feel overwhelmed again.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**12 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 2359.**

Despite Bubbles' fears, the clown phone did not ring, and so the Girls got to stay as little girls for the rest of Sunday. It didn't make it any easier for her, however, as she knew that the next one was coming anytime, anywhere. Even if Miss Keane would take the class to an excursion to the Townsville Zoo the next day, General Blackwater or Agent Blake could call Blossom through her cell phone.

She tried to sleep, but sleep would not come. Dad's story time did not do her any good. It didn't help that it was a story about Pinnochio, whose nose grew longer the more he lied. She couldn't help but see herself in Pinnochio, wishing once again that she was a real little girl and not some puppet controlled by General Blackwater, or everyone else.

For an hour or so, she thought she'd even fallen asleep and dreamed that she was Pinnochio, and every time she told a lie about her new power, her nose would grow longer over the tea table, except Blossom and Buttercup wouldn't notice. She'd dreamed that she had turned into a literal puppet, controlled by strings from high up above, leading into the dark sky above.

"Bubbles," a familiar feminine voice had whispered her name when she realized that even her face had become wooden and unresponsive, and only a single tear had managed to escape that entrapment. "I'm here. It's going to be okay."

That was when she woke up, though she still wasn't even sure if she'd fallen asleep. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see white light coming in from under her door. She sat up, gasping in surprise.

'The fairy godmother is here?' Bubbles thought, worried that her secret would be exposed by a visit from the fairy godmother. Looking at her sisters, she saw that they were soundly asleep - they wouldn't have seen the white light. Did they? Could they? Bubbles was really afraid of being found out.

Buttercup snored and drooled where she was. Blossom turned in her sleep, mumbling to herself as she shook her head. Bubbles thought the way Blossom looked was troubling. Was she having a nightmare?

Bubbles caressed Blossom in her ample scalp, before gently and quietly throwing off the baby blue side of the Girls' blanket and ascending into a stealthy hover. Gliding to the door, she opened and entered the corridor - and as it just so happened, there was light coming from the stairs. Bubbles followed it, turning the corner to begin the descent on the stairs, only to discover that the light was gone.

'Where did she go?" Bubbles wondered as she continued down the stairs and into the living room. Looking around, she wandered the living room, searching blindly - looking under the coffee table, the couch, peeking into the kitchen. She didn't have to search for long when there was another burst of white light, this time coming from the backyard, shining through the glass sliding doors leading into it.

Excited, Bubbles flew towards the sliding doors thoughtlessly, creating a streak of baby blue light and a small whooshing noise in her wake. There, she saw her: the fairy godmother. Bathed in a glow of white light, she was highly visible and standing beside the family tree, her golden hair, blue dress and angel wings shining, sparkling. Bubbles slid open the backyard door and floated towards the fairy godmother in awe, forgetting that it was cold outside and not even feeling it.

"Hello, Bubbles," the fairy godmother greeted her god-daughter serenely. "It is nice to see you again."

"You came back!" Bubbles exclaimed gladly as she rushed to the sparkly-dressed being, hugging her in the legs. "I've been so worried that... That…"

"I will not return to your side?" the fairy godmother completed Bubbles' sentence for her.

"Yes…" Bubbles admitted. "I'm afraid, miss. I can't help Blossom and Buttercup without your magic!"

"Silly little girl," the fairy godmother teased lovingly with a laugh. "Since when does a fairy godmother ever abandon a child? Yes… yes… I will forever be at your side. That's a promise…"

"Is there anything, in particular, you need from me?" the fairy godmother asked with a mischievous smile, despite knowing exactly what Bubbles wanted.

"Your magic, fairy godmother! I need it, please!" Bubbles begged. "I need it or Blossom and Buttercup will hate me again!"

"Why, of course, dear," the fairy godmother said, a kind of triumphant smile replacing her previous smile. She reached into her dark blue pouch and pulled out a familiar brown leather pouch, but there were two of them this time. "Anything for you…"

Bubbles snatched them from the fairy godmother's hands desperately, smiling when she got them as if she had found some buried treasure.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you so much!" Bubbles squeaked with joy as she hugged the two pouches of 'magic'.

"Your welcome," the fairy godmother said. "But there are some rules you need to follow from now on, dear Bubbles…"

"I'll do anything for your magic!" Bubbles exclaimed, but her excitement was beginning to die down a little once rules were mentioned. "What are they?"

"They are simple to follow… yes… yes… Are you with me, Bubbles?" the fairy godmother said. As if her wand was a pen, she used it to write sentences down using white light as ink and the air as paper. Despite facing Bubbles, she was able to write it mirrored such that Bubbles could read it without coming up next to her.

"Rule #1: Do not reveal my magic to anyone…" the fairy godmother read to Bubbles as she pointed out the first rule.

"Not even my Dad?" Bubbles asked.

"Not even him," the fairy godmother said.

"But why?" Bubbles asked.

"They do not believe in me as you do," the ethereal being said cryptically. "So make sure you hide my magic from everyone, dearie…"

"Okay…" Bubbles agreed submissively, knowing that everything hinged on the magic in the syringes.

"Rule #2: Return the pouch and syringe to me," the fairy godmother read the next rule after pointing it out. Bubbles thought it to be fair and square that she didn't even say a word. It was the least she could do.

"Rule #3: Let yourself go, Bubbles, when you are under my spell – have fun, do not think," the angel-like being read from her list – and it was written as it was read, for some reason. Bubbles thought it was funny. It made the fairy godmother out to be a fun and playful person, and she liked it.

"But what if I… hurt someone I shouldn't?" Bubbles asked. While she was under the influence of His Secret 2.0, she had no fear, no restraint and so much anger and pleasure and need for more stimulation, and she knew it – during the Battle of Silver Age Cineplex, she was aware of what was going on and what she was doing – but the intense desire to pay blood for blood, to avenge her sisters, to simply hurt for the sake of pleasure, was hard to resist. She simply didn't because she thought it was the only way to save her sisters and rekindle the sisterhood between them. Furthermore, the godmother's magic had removed the consequences of her actions – there was no pain and exhaustion as she fought in ways her normal self would have fainted from, replaced only by a constant, throbbing pleasure and rendered the rest of her insensate.

In other words, it felt as though her control of herself was slipping and easy to lose. Thinking back, she didn't really want to kill the cultist who had attempted to ambush her.

"But you won't – you'll have a very good reason for every person you attack," the fairy godmother said with that smile of hers, that hard-to-read smile. "Yes… yes… have confidence in yourself. After all, everyone you've banished in your last battle deserved it, do they not?"

Come to think of it, Bubbles thought the fairy godmother's point was reasonable. It was because of all the bad guys involved that her sisters were wounded quite badly in that battle. They deserved it. All of it.

"Rule #4: You will do everything I ask of you," the fairy godmother finally stated the last of the code. She paused after that to let Bubbles take it in. Bubbles had only looked at her with those wide eyes, as though expecting more rules to just be written in the freezing air. "Is there anything you wish to ask?"

"But what can I do for you, miss fairy godmother?" Bubbles asked enthusiastically.

"Oh, that. Just… small things." the fairy godmother said with what looked like a devious smile, but Bubbles was none the wiser. "Tiny tokens to show me appreciation for the help I provide you. It's only polite, yes?"

"Like what?" Bubbles pressed, not out of suspicion for she was smiling innocently as she asked, but out of an eager need to please her benefactor.

"Oh, my weary old bones…" the fairy godmother exclaimed as she placed the back of her hand on her forehead, arching her body in a show of tiredness that was stereotypical of a lady. "I help from the kindness of my heart and receive nothing in return. All I'll ask for are just tiny things that will make me smile… yes… yes…"

"I'll do anything you want, fairy godmother," Bubbles said. "You've helped me so much – I should help you too, even if it's just to make you smile. My Dad taught me that people should help each other to make the world a better place..."

"Speaking of doing everything I ask of you – how about one tiny little thing, right now?" the fairy godmother requested.

"What do you want, fairy godmother?" Bubbles asked with an enthusiastic smile, eager to please. Tokens of appreciation for the magic - that was the rule, set in stone.

"Hugs and kisses?" the shining angel said. Bubbles floated up to her without a word and wrapped her arms around her savior's neck as the angelic being embraced her, then planted a peck on her cheek.

* * *

Reply to Guest (Ch 29): Hmm... I don't remember it being implied that a cult's following the Girls in the original show... I just remember it came pretty close to that in See Me, Feel Me, Gnomey but the Girls shut that down real quick. Hmm, interesting to note.

As for the fail-fallout-fail pattern with the story, it's something that's going to end real soon if it hasn't already. I identified it as a problem in my writing style back in Project Powerpuff: Declassified, though it might be inevitable considering that the Girls in this universe are weaker yet face tougher odds. Anyway, I know about this and I've been actively trying to avoid writing a formulaic story (e.g Journey to the West). Let's just say that things have changed from around, I'd say, the Act 1 finale onwards. I'd say this change is inevitable too as the Girls are only getting stronger and stronger and the plot demands it :)

Thanks for the feedback. I appreciate it. I'll be more careful in avoiding the 'formula' approach to storytelling.

Edit: Also, to add, you're right. The cycle serves the plot as well, as it definitely will push the professor to try to save the Girls from it. A break from the cycle, however, does not automatically mean salvation however... Hyuck hyuck you know what I mean? ;)


	31. W12 Medical & Experimental Report

Reply to Guest: It's good to be skeptical and prepared, I guess.

**B47, B48 & B49 W12 Medical & Experimental Report**

**DOC: 12 FEB 1989 (Sunday)**

**Created by: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Important Developments in B47, B48 & B49**

**Medical Report - Intelligence Quotient**

It is now almost 3 months since the Girls have been created following the lab accident caused by Jojo, and they have been developing at a rapid pace. Time, however, does not seem to fly, and I am afraid that I have some potentially disturbing news, though it could just be my own bias as the Girls' guardian exaggerating things.

I have administered a second IQ test to the Girls, 2 weeks after the first. The IQ test in question has been adjusted to the Girls' mental development. Though their mental development is incredibly uneven compared to that of other children (for full details, please consult my earlier reports on the Girls' development), I have decided to place them at 4 years old.

Their previous IQ are rated as such:

Blossom (B47): 181

Bubbles (B49): 113

Buttercup (B48): 164

At previous rates, even Bubbles, who suffers from genetic factors reducing her intelligence (note: see the report on Bubbles' genetic source, Ester Olofsson for full details), has a level of intelligence considered to be high-average.

This is the result of the current IQ test:

Blossom (B47): 165

Bubbles (B49): 108

Buttercup (B48): 147

There appears to be a relatively steep decline in their intelligence quotient, across all Girls. I am deeply worried about this development. MRI brain scans have revealed nothing so far.

To explain the origin of their heightened intelligence: Chemical X is the causal factor in their increased intelligence. I suspect that their brains and nervous systems have been tapping on Chemical X's vast energy reserves to propel chemical and electrical signals in their brains and nerves to their maximum speed and efficiency. This also means that they don't get tired as easily from sustained thought. I even suspect that Chemical X's high incidence of quantum tunneling has been utilized somehow to transmit information throughout the Girls' brains and nervous systems faster than the speed of light.

I fear that somehow, this ability of theirs is receding. I don't know how, and I don't know why. This is a worrying development. As it is, the Girls are having difficulty navigating the complex and often confusing world of law enforcement out there. I cannot imagine what will happen if the Girls were to revert in intelligence back to their genetic sources' baseline. Bubbles, who will revert to an IQ of 81 if this is the case, would barely be able to even function as an average human being, much less fight crime.

I have consulted the Girls and USDO's own early childhood development specialist, Miss Keane, and she will be attempting to counteract this trend by focusing especially on methods to improve logical thinking and creativity, in addition to the usual enhanced curriculum she has arranged for them. However, she has stated that she believes their absence from class to be a contributing factor. I have spoken to Psychiatrist Alice on the phone about this as well, and she believes that it could be a symptom of mental stress and the many mental issues the Girls are facing.

* * *

**Medical Report - Growth**

I have another potentially dire issue to report. I have performed another physical examination on the Girls, and although I have found no abnormality in their cell and blood samples or any part of their bodies, I have made a discovery that could potentially have severe implications for the Girls and their role as long-term law enforcement agents with the USDO and Townsville. Below is some information to illustrate my point:

30 NOV 1988 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45 Pounds

2 DEC 1988 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45 Pounds

5 DEC 1988 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45 Pounds

11 DEC 1988 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45 Pounds

17 DEC 1988 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.4 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42.1 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.5 Pounds

(It is only here that they have put on weight, mainly additional muscle mass, likely from training)

29 DEC 1988 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.5 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42.2 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.6 Pounds

(I had to skip multiple height/weight measurements because of the operations the Girls have been taking part in and the injuries they suffered)

7 JAN 1989 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.5 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42.2 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.6 Pounds

14 JAN 1989 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.3 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42.1 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.4 Pounds

(They appear to have lost some muscle mass, likely due to the lack of any challenging law enforcement operations. Sergeant Selicia Goodwin had also given them a training break for a week)

21 JAN 1989 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.3 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42.1 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.4 Pounds

28 JAN 1989 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.2 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.3 Pounds

4 FEB 1989 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.2 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.3 Pounds

12 FEB 1989 Height/Weight Results

Blossom (B47)

Height: 44 Inches

Weight: 43.3 Pounds

Bubbles (B49)

Height: 43.5 Inches

Weight: 42.1 Pounds

Buttercup (B48)

Height: 44.5 Inches

Weight: 45.4 Pounds

(This is today. I had to delay the physical examination until today due to the Girls' recent security operations and injuries.)

The reason why I took constant, careful measurements of Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's height and weight, much to their annoyance, is because of their explosive growth upon creation, from mere micrometers as stem cells to their present height and weight as fully-formed 5-year-old equivalents. I had long suspected Chemical X to have a side effect on the Girls' growth patterns, and I was deathly worried that it could rapidly age the Girls until expiration, resembling cases of the Progeria group of diseases, except hyper-accelerated to the point where the Girls' lifespan would be measured in the months. I was also suspecting Chemical X of negatively affecting the Girls' pituitary glands, resulting in abnormal growth and even gigantism in the long run. Thankfully, neither proved to be the case. However, I have discovered something else.

The Girls' height has not increased even a fraction of an inch ever since their creation. It is now 10 days away from their 3rd month's birthday. There should have been at least a 0.3-0.5 inch increase in their height, or 1 inch maximum. However, there is no recorded increase at all. I have been observing careful experimental etiquette for the procedures. I have taken several measurements each time to eliminate human error. Machines, calibrated on a weekly basis, were used for the measurement. Human error, I don't think, is the issue here.

It is possible that the Girls are locked in some kind of growth stasis. Should that be the case, knowing Chemical X, the best case scenario is that they remain in their current physical state with no abnormalities. They will remain as children forever – while this is not exactly optimistic, there could be a chance that they might be effectively immortal. This, however, will depend largely on the effects Chemical X have on the integrity of their genetics, particularly their telomeres. More investigation is required before any conclusions can be drawn.

The worst-case scenario, however, is what I find it hard to type here. Chemical X could have induced a condition causing Dwarfism, along with other symptoms that have yet to surface, that are pathological and debilitating to the Girls. I will keep a close watch on the Girls. I will have to run some tests focusing on their hormones and do more bloodwork to ascertain this.

However, I believe that I might have a solution to this, though the original intention has not been to alleviate their growth stasis. I will keep the council updated on this.

I believe it is prudent not to tell the Girls about this condition. Over the months, I've been very optimistic about the future. The subject of growing up and adulthood comes up often in my conversations with them. They are all optimistic about the prospects of growing up. I fear that I might have painted myself into a corner here. They would be devastated if they find out that they will remain as children forever. Especially Blossom.

I hope my solution to their growth stasis works. It has to.

* * *

**Capabilities Report**

Ever since the near-disastrous operation in the Silver Age Cineplex last Friday, the Girls have developed new powers. In a previous report, I mentioned that adversity appears to be a major motivational factor in the Girls' development in terms of enhanced abilities. It appears to be the case here. Below is a summary of my experiments and testing involving their new abilities.

Buttercup (B48)

New Ability: Laser Vision - split into Laser Drill & Laser Slice (Note: I know it sounds corny, but this is essentially what it is.)

Description: Buttercup appears to have developed the ability to fire laser from her eyes. In my lab tests, she appears to consistently emit a spectrum of laser about 531nm in wavelength.

The mechanism for this appears to be similar to Blossom's Infrared Vision and zooming vision. On close analysis, multiple vortexes consisting of transmuted Chemical X would form before her eyes, with the closest ones being 0.1-0.3 inches from her pupils. I believe these vortexes act as lenses to focus the laser beams released from her eyes.

The laser beams are capable of cutting through anything from paper and leather to Kevlar and steel, the time needed to do so is near-instantaneous for the thinnest widths. Steel and Kevlar up to an inch thick could be cut through with ease. Anything more requires seconds of sustained bursts. Much of this depends on numerous factors, however. Buttercup was able to cut through 3 inches of steel instantly regardless by pushing herself harder, all the way to exhaustion since it appears that she is getting used to the new ability and it is taxing in the time being.

Usage: I have advised Buttercup to avoid cutting people with her new Laser Vision ability unless her life is threatened. I have also advised her on its possible applications as a tool for breaching and surgical cutting, especially if she needs to execute these actions quietly. Furthermore, she could use her Laser Vision in several ways - either 'drilling' or 'slicing'. Drilling could be used to go deep into an object, while slicing is better for separating large swathes of material into two. Please ensure that she does not 'drill' and 'slice' people up on a whim. I will advise Blossom to watch Buttercup.

Bubbles (B49)

New Ability: BerXerker (Note: This is the tentative name as my investigation into this has not yet yielded any conclusive results. I think I am getting very good at naming the Girls' abilities)

Description: My report on Bubbles' elusive BerXerker power will come mainly from the Girls' account. Most of the information I have had come from Blossom, who recounts that Bubbles was 'different' when she used this ability. She was much more daring, vicious and hyper-aggressive, even reckless and ruthless.

Bubbles did not want to talk about it at first, but when I approached her, I guess she knew that she had to. She believes that it is her new ability. When I asked her about what it does, she stated that she believes it makes her stronger, faster and more able to take pain and injuries. She made no mention of her aggression and recklessness until I brought it up.

This BerXerker power could not be replicated in the lab. The set-up was simple: I pitted Bubbles against both Blossom and Buttercup (for safety, in case she overwhelms one of them) - heavily kitted out in their riot gear (heavily armored and padded versions of their tactical gear), and instructed her to spar with them. She attempted to attack, only to the restrained by both Blossom and Buttercup with ease. This was repeated three times.

Bubbles believe that she couldn't do it against her sisters - this could extend to all friendly targets. This could mean that her new power appears to have some sort of in-built IFF (Identify Friend or Foe), which is fortunate, considering how difficult to control it sounds like. However, this is inconclusive as she had given other reasons for her inability to reproduce her new power: ranging from exhaustion, 'not feeling like it' and being upset. The experiment is a failure.

I do not wish to push Bubbles any further as she does indeed seem upset at being unable to demonstrate her new power and potentially losing control to it, I have decided to delay my investigation of this to a later date. In the meantime, I am more optimistic of Bubbles' outlook in law enforcement, even if as her assigned parent, as it means that she will cope with it better.

* * *

**B-47, B-48 & B-49 Psychiatric Session 02111989**

**DOC: 11 FEB 1989 (Saturday)**

**Timestamp: 2205**

**\- TRANSCRIPT START -**

Bubbles: (Yawns)

Psychiatrist Alice: I'm sorry we're doing this late today. We won't do this often at all, promise. You sure you don't want a marshmallow?

Bubbles: No, thanks…

Psychiatrist Alice: I thought you like marshmallows? Is something wrong, Bubbles?

Bubbles: I… just don't feel like eating. Besides, Dad said not to eat sweet things when it's late.

Psychiatrist Alice: Huh. Okay. How have you been, Bubbles?

Bubbles: I think I'm okay.

Psychiatrist Alice: (scribbles something on notes) Really? That's good news, sweetie.

Bubbles: You sound disappointed… Aren't you happy that I feel better?

Psychiatrist Alice: Yes, of course I am. It's just- you sound very different from the last time we meet, Bubbles. Do you know what caused that change?

Bubbles: I guess it's because… urm… (pauses) I've done better in crime-fighting, I guess.

Psychiatrist Alice: I heard about everything, Bubbles. The Purple Man in the forest, the mission in The Strip. Are you sure you're okay?

Bubbles: (Begins crying)

Psychiatrist Alice: I'm sorry, Bubbles. Do you need some time?

Bubbles: (sniffling) No, I… I'm fine. It's over and Blossom has forgiven me.

Psychiatrist Alice: Yes, I've heard about Blossom too. How are things between the two of you?

Bubbles: We're fine now. She's forgiven me and I… guess I've forgiven her too. Poor Blossom wasn't allowed to go to the Puppet Pal show with us and I feel sorry for her.

Psychiatrist Alice: You guess you've forgiven her?

Bubbles: Yeah.

Psychiatrist Alice: Is there anything more you want to add to that?

Bubbles: N-no, not really…

Psychiatrist Alice: I see. Never mind. Now, about your battle at the… (flips through notes) Silver Age Cineplex. I heard that you did well that day, and it's due to a new ability, is that correct?

Bubbles: Who told you about that?

Psychiatrist Alice: It's not important-

Bubbles: I need to know, Miss Alice. Please. Who told you about my new power?

Psychiatrist Alice: (hesitates) Your father did.

Bubbles: W-what did he say?

Psychiatrist Alice: Oh, that you've discovered a new ability. Something that makes you stronger and fight harder?

Bubbles: Oh…

Psychiatrist Alice: Were you expecting me to say something else?

Bubbles: No…

Psychiatrist Alice: How does this new power help you feel better, Bubbles?

Bubbles: (nervous) I… urm… I just feel safer since I know something new…

Psychiatrist Alice: I see. What exactly does it do again? This new power?

Bubbles: It's like what Daddy said. It makes me stronger. I don't want to talk about it anymore…

Alice: Bubbles, you're sweating and shaking. Are you sure you're okay?

Bubbles: (shouting) I don't want to talk about it, okay!?

Alice: (shocked) Bubbles!

Bubbles: I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… (cries)

Alice: No, I should be the one apologizing – I didn't mean to be pushy.

Bubbles: Can I go now? (cries)

Alice: Do you want a hug?

Bubbles: I just want to go… (cries)

Alice: Of course. (Pattering of feet, before there is the sound of a door opening and closing)

Alice: (louder, facing voice recorder) Is it just me, or has Bubbles' personality changed completely? She's never acted this way before. She seems really nervous and defensive, even secretive when we're talking about her new power. I doubt she's hiding anything but… this requires further investigation. My next obvious lead will be Thomas Upton himself. He might know what's going on. It could be this 'Anti-X' he's been talking about that could be causing this.

* * *

**Timestamp: 2221**

Blossom: Hi, Miss Alice.

Alice: Hello, Blossom. How are you?

Blossom: I'm fine… I think things are getting better now.

Alice: That's great. What's that you have in your hands?

Blossom: I made this just for you. (Hands something fluttering like paper over)

Alice: They're beautiful!

Blossom: I spent a whole day making those papier mache flowers. I'm sorry for what I did last time.

Alice: It's all but forgotten, Blossom (laughs). It'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me.

Blossom: I don't want to get rid of you…

Alice: I know. (sound of paper getting set down on a table) So, I heard that you're having problems managing your anger?

Blossom: Yes. It's just so hard… I know I'm wrong.

Alice: How?

Blossom: I've hurt Bubbles because of it. I'm afraid of hurting her again.

Alice: It's not all bad.

Blossom: Really?

Alice: You know what's wrong. That's how you know how to change yourself. It's how we grow, and learn.

Blossom: But I don't know if I can take it the next time…

Alice: How do you mean?

Blossom: It happens whenever I think about all this crime-fighting and how people are getting hurt. It's worst when it's our fault…

Alice: It's not. It's never your fault. You keep blaming yourself for it - even your dad said so. You shouldn't.

Blossom: (shouting) But we're supposed to help people! Of course it's our fault! Stop telling me I'm wrong!

Alice: I understand where you're coming from.

Blossom: (crying) I'm sorry… I've done it again, have I?

Alice: No, Blossom. Hey, it's alright. Blossom, you don't have to go. (sound of sofa crinkling and distant crying) Shh… It's okay. Hey, I'm fine, see? Here, sit back down and let me show you something.

Blossom: (upset) What?

Alice: A perfect little girl like you… I bet I can pull something nice out of you – here!

Blossom: But how did you-? Did you just pull a chocolate coin out of my ear?

Alice: But of course I did. It'd be impossible for me not to. Everything about you is nice, Blossom. You could do a lot worse. Here, the coin's yours. I took it out of your smart little brain, after all.

Blossom: (shyly) Thank you…

Alice: You see? It's not all bad. Whenever something bad happens, just remember that sometimes it just sounds a lot worse than it is. Sometimes, you just need to avoid thinking too much about it. You're a leader in your own right – and at such a young age! That's a real achievement right there. So all you need to do is just focus on the problem. And as you do, remember the good times. Like right now, and with your parents, and sisters.

Blossom: Like just now? When Bubbles gave me a puppet? (Laughs)

Alice: Yes. Did you talk to your Dad about this? About getting angry?

Blossom: Yes…

Alice: What did he say?

Blossom: A lot…

**-TRANSCRIPT PAUSED-**

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 FEB (Saturday) 2019. 1340.**

"What are we doing out here, Dad?" Blossom said as she was scratching herself near her battle wounds. "And why are you bringing those nails? What's the hammer for, Dad?"

Dad did not answer immediately. He continued walking out into the backyard – he did not have his jacket and snow boots on. He was just in his lab coat and office-wear. Blossom followed and had no idea what was going on and what her Dad was trying to do.

"I'm going to show you one of those things my own dad did right," Dad said the moment he stopped, right next to one of many fence posts marking the boundaries of the house. "Put out your hand, Blossom."

For some reason, Blossom could feel her blood running cold when her Dad had ordered her so. Reluctantly and apprehensively, she did as she was asked. Ever since that night when her Dad had acted as if he wanted to throw her out to make his point, she'd been more guarded around him.

Dad put the handle of his hammer in her hand. She took it, her heart still thumping vigorously.

"You okay, Blossom?" Dad asked, concerned, his voice slightly shivering from the winter temperature. Blossom nodded her head. He handed her a nail, which she took with her other hand. "Here, put the sharp end of this nail against this fence and hammer it in."

Blossom had never handled carpentry tools before, and so her Dad had to guide her hands and teach her how to do it.

"Gently now – I really don't want to have to fix this fence just because you sneezed," her Dad said when he was finally confident that Blossom was going to do it right.

Blossom did as she was told, still wondering if her Dad was going to act again to put his point across to her. Gently, she began hammering the nail in, taking care not to activate her enhanced strength and ruin half the fence.

"Was that difficult, Blossom?" Dad asked cryptically.

"No... It was actually easy," Blossom said.

"I see. Here's the rest of the nails. Hammer all of them in," Dad continued. Blossom took them and hammered them in one by one. By the end of it, there were five nails in the otherwise pristine white fence post.

"Do you know what the fence and the nails represent, Blossom?" Dad asked mysteriously.

"I don't know… a fence post and nails?" Blossom answered. Despite her vast intelligence, she was still limited by her age – had she been a normal little girl, she would be spending most of her time in a rocking cradle, ignorant of even the alphabets and single-digit numbers. Metaphors were still a tough concept for her to grasp, but her Dad would have a hand in making it easier.

"Think of the nails as the things you say when you're angry, Blossom, or the things you do when you're mad," the father explained patiently. "And this fence post is whoever it is you're talking to or doing something to when you're mad. Now remove the nails with your bare hands, Blossom."

Blossom proceeded to grab a nail by its head using her tiny little fingers, and with the tiniest application of effort, rip the nail out of the fence post. Dad stared at the feat, his mouth agape. It wasn't supposed to go like that.

"Was it harder than hammering it in?" he asked purposefully, trying to keep his fatherly, sagely straight face on.

"I don't know," Blossom said, ignorant of the moral lesson her Dad was trying to teach. "It was kinda easy to pull out."

"Urm- nevermind. Look, it's supposed to be harder to pull the nail out than it is to drive it in," Dad would go on to say, before demonstrating that he couldn't pull the nail that Blossom had hammered into the fence out. "Do you know what it means?"

It was at the tip of Blossom's tongue. Try as she might, she couldn't quite put it all together immediately. For seconds, Blossom tried, and for seconds she'd only gotten that uncomfortable feeling of not-quite-getting-it. It was a feeling she hated, whether she'd encountered it in school or at home while trying to understand a story on her own. She had to know everything and anything she encounters.

While Blossom was trying to make sense of it, Dad had taken the hammer from her, and with some difficulty, pulled the nails out with the claw side of the hammer, further driving home his point.

"Do you see the holes these nails made, Blossom?" Dad finally said. Blossom nodded when she saw the unsightly holes in the fence. It'd reminded her, for some reason, of poor Mister Wilbur, or 'Boomer', as most people liked to call him. "It represents what happens every time you act poorly on your anger. For every wrong thing you say or do, you're hurting someone or something, and sometimes, it can be permanent like these holes."

It didn't happen immediately, but when it dawned on Blossom what Dad meant, it'd hit her like a barrage of submachinegun bullets from an execution squad. She gasped and her eyes had gone wet.

"Bubbles…" Blossom cried as she felt the holes on the fence post with her tiny fingers. "I did this to her…"

"I'm afraid you did, Blossom," Dad said regrettably. Blossom's hand had gone up to her mouth to stifle a gasping sob as she tried to control herself. Her tears, however, had broken through and froze on her cheeks. They hugged after that. "I'm so sorry you have to learn this lesson now, flower puff. I wish you had more time before you did. But you know what?"

"What?" Blossom replied in dismay.

"Bubbles isn't entirely like this fence post. Sure, you might have changed her a little, but she will heal, grow and accept what you did. Before you know it, the two of you will put this behind you, maybe even laugh about it in the future. You'll just have to be nice to her from now on, okay?"

"I'll be the nicest, sweetest sister to her ever," Blossom promised.

* * *

**\- TRANSCRIPT RESUMED -**

**Timestamp: 2229**

Alice: Your dad is right you know.

Blossom: I know…

Alice: It's really good advice right there. You should listen to him.

Blossom: I just wish I hadn't done all those things to Bubbles.

Alice: What's past is past, Blossom. The most important thing is that you've stopped. Think about what I said, okay? You look tired. Why don't you go now?

Blossom: But I want to stay and, you know, talk to you. (Yawns)

Alice: You're tired. We can always do it next week. A growing little girl like you needs her beauty sleep. (Laughs)

Blossom: (Laughs) Okay… Thanks, Miss Alice. Can I have a hug?

Alice: Sure - You know, Bubbles asked for one too - well, last week, anyway. The both of you are so alike, it's impossible for the two of you not to get along.

Blossom: I hope so. See you next week, Miss Alice.

Alice: Goodbye, Blossom. (Sound of footsteps, before the door opens and closes)

Alice: It seems that Blossom's anger management problem has been arrested somewhat. However, it hasn't been completely eliminated and I'm afraid that our progress towards fixing it might create new problems on its own. Blossom might not consciously know this, but she now sees anger as wrong. This is obviously not true. Anger can be justified. It is a natural human emotion, an important one that helps guide us and shape us as who we are. Like any human emotion, it needs to be managed, but it isn't inherently wrong, just like contentment.

* * *

**Timestamp: 2235**

Buttercup: (Sound of eating) Thanks, Miss Alice. You promised to bring marshmallows and you did!

Alice: It's not a problem, Buttercup. Are you sure you should be eating so many of them at this hour?

Buttercup: I won't tell my Dad if you don't.

Alice: Right. How's your leg, Buttercup? I heard that you've been a brave girl.

Buttercup: It's nothing. It's still hard to walk and fly with it, but it's getting better. I'm tougher than Blossom and Bubbles!

Alice: Haha, of course you are. So, I've heard… nothing about you lately.

Buttercup: What do you mean? Is that good?

Alice: Yes, Buttercup, it kind of is. I'm proud of you for being patient and restrained.

Buttercup: (Pause) It's… nothing. I'm happy too.

Alice: Still, I believe we should continue with our exercises.

Buttercup: You mean the thinking games?

Alice: Yes, Buttercup.

Buttercup: But I don't wanna think about those things.

Alice: You have to, Buttercup, if you want to be loved more by your parents and sisters. You'll be a better girl because of it, and we all know that girls like that deserve a lot of good things, right? Presents and affection and attention…

Buttercup: Okay, fine…

Alice: Now, close your eyes (ruffling through handbag) and wear this blindfold. (sound of cords snapping) Now, the first thing I want you to imagine is your dad's face…

(20 minutes of psychotherapy has been skipped in this transcript. For the full transcript, consult the Psychiatry and Social Services Department, USDO.)

Buttercup: (snoring)

Alice: Buttercup? Buttercup!

Buttercup: (startled) Huh? Hmm?

Alice: You fell asleep.

Buttercup: I did?

Alice: Yeah, it's not a problem. It's getting late. You should go to bed.

Buttercup: Sure, Miss Alice. Thanks for the marshmallows.

Alice: No problem. (Sound of rapid footsteps and the door opening and closing.)

Alice: Supplemental notes. Buttercup is still lying about her activities on the outside. It is all but certain by now, based on her behavior, that she had killed recently. The verbal and physical tics I noticed had come up too often and whenever I introduce a trigger. I'm just glad she's not threatening me with death or bodily harm. She was probably too sleepy to do that.

* * *

**Timestamp: 2304**

Alice: Hello, Thomas.

Professor Utonium: Evening, Alice. (Sound of sofa surface depressed) How are the Girls?

Alice: Well, to start, good job with Blossom, Tom. That hammer and nails trick you used sounds like something I'd do, except with a folk medicine kind of spin to it. I think you've taught her a valuable lesson and it's easily as effective as any therapy session.

Utonium: Should I sign up as a counselor then? (Laughs)

Alice: (Laughs) You're fine where you are, Tom – with the Girls.

Utonium: So, how is Blossom?

Alice: It'll be tough for her to control her anger for now, but she'll get there. I think she's doing very well as it is since she's just coming to 3 months old. She's smart for her age. She'll learn quickly.

Utonium: I hope so.

Alice: Bubbles is doing really well. Did you have anything to do with that? Did you inject her with Anti-X and somehow give her a new power accidentally?

Utonium: That's not what the Anti-X does. She discovered her new ability all on her own.

Alice: It seems to be doing Bubbles some good. While I was speaking to her, crime-fighting no longer bothers her as much.

Utonium: Really?

Alice: But there's something else. I don't know why, but she seems… changed. She's really defensive when I asked her about her new power.

Utonium: Oh, she's just shy. She was really shy about her Sonic Scream too. I think it had something to do with Buttercup making fun of her.

Alice: I don't think Buttercup made fun of her this time. While I was working on Buttercup, she even mentioned that Bubbles was cool with her new power.

Utonium: I'm sure it's nothing. I think she'll still be shy about it even without Buttercup's jokes. It's Bubbles we're talking about here. I'm sure she'll open up to you about it next week. I'll probably run some tests on it tomorrow.

Alice: She mentioned that it made her stronger. Did she say anything else to you?

Utonium: Well, actually, she did say that it'd made her faster and braver too.

Alice: Braver?

Utonium: Yeah, she said she didn't feel fear when she used her new power – it allowed her to plow right into the bad guys.

Alice: Isn't it coincidental that she'd suddenly learn a new power that could just magically take away her fear?

Utonium: Borderline miraculous. I know what you mean. I know how it looks like, but I have a theory, Alice. I think it's possible that the Chemical X in the Girls is adaptive. The Girls could harness it for whatever it is they want to achieve. It's why they hadn't grown stronger last month, and all of a sudden, Buttercup's shooting lasers out of her eyes and Bubbles goes berserk when she's been pushed around for too long.

Alice: Buttercup can shoot lasers out of her eyes now?

Utonium: Yes.

Alice: (pause) That's…

Utonium: Yeah, I know. This is why I'm going to go full speed ahead with my Anti-X. It's becoming easier and easier for Buttercup to just hurt and kill people now.

Alice: She's been lying to me.

Utonium: About what?

Alice: About killing. She's been killing people. Someone. I wasn't sure the previous session, but I've been seeing signs of dishonesty in her during my sessions.

Utonium: She wouldn't. She knows how I feel about taking lives.

Alice: Thomas, she's suffering from severe psychopathy.

Utonium: (tense) I don't need you to remind me about that. Don't you think that I, as her father, would remember that? You think I don't blame myself for personally ordering the stem cell samples that became her?

Alice: I'm sorry.

Utonium: No, I'm just- (sighs) I should be the one apologizing. I know what you mean. I just don't want to suspect Buttercup of breaking her word without any real evidence.

Alice: What about my observations?

Utonium: I'm talking about real, physical and observable evidence.

Alice: (pause) I didn't expect that from you. I guess we've gotten off on the wrong foot today. I should go. It's getting late. I'll send you a psychiatric report over the USDO internetwork.

Utonium: Alice, I didn't mean it that way.

Alice: (packing things up) I'll see you next week.

Utonium: Alice- (sound recorder has been switched off at this point)

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**


	32. Chapter 27: Red (Part 1)

Reply to menmato uzumaki: The third of General Blackwater's most trusted captain has his own chapter in Project Powerpuff: Declassified. He's in Chapter 79: Mercy. He might turn up again though in this story.

Reply to Guest: Selicia actually saw Buttercup's killings as the lesser of two evils. She thought that it's no different from how she and her security pals had to kill from time to time. As for torture, needless violence, and drugs? Well, we'll have to see, don't we? And thanks for sharing that part about the yeast injections. I've always thought that the Girls could never age. They never did on screen, and the reboot shows them to be in grade school and acting like tweens without aging. I guess they're so perfect as little girls that they'd never go beyond that. Anyway, it fits in remarkably well with the science behind this fanfic, so I decided to adopt the idea. Or did I? We'll see.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Red (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 0935.**

"Miss Keane, is it ever right to do something wrong?" Bubbles asked as she sat before her teacher's desk, for some reason unable to look at her. "To help people?"

"Can you give me an example?" Miss Keane replied, looking up from the report cards she'd been scribbling on.

"I don't want to say…" Bubbles said secretively, her eyes flitting to Miss Keane's, only to look away when the teacher tried to make eye contact with her.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I understand," the teacher replied gently with carefully enunciated words, setting an example as she always did. "Well, it really depends, doesn't it? You've been fighting crime. You should know that sometimes, to save innocent lives, you'll have to hurt someone or even..."

Miss Keane had fallen silent. The idea of advocating violence with children didn't sit well with her. She had yet to come to terms with her employment under the USDO, and how it had turned her life topsy-turvy.

"But how do I know when to do it?" Bubbles asked as she continued looking down at her lap, playing with her fingers, always afraid that something could go wrong, even though there was no chance of it. Sweat was streaking across her face, despite the temperature in the room - the heater was set to a comfortable range. She was dying to use the fairy godmother's magic ever since getting them, not just for the edge it gave her in combat, but for the intense pleasure as well, and it was the only thing that could ever make her forget her worries. At the same time, she was afraid that, somehow, Miss Keane or someone in class would find out about it. She could acutely feel Blossom and Buttercup's eyes down her back even though, in reality, they were laughing with their classmates and concentrating on their own art and craft.

"If you find yourself being forced to do something bad, you're not wrong," Miss Keane revealed. "You'll know it when you have no other choice."

No other choice. Bubbles thought hard about it. Did she have a choice? Could she decide between whether to use His Secret 2.0 or not? Bubbles thought that she didn't. If she forgoes the drug, she knew she would be useless in crime-fighting, especially in Buttercup's eyes. She could try fighting without the drug, but she knew she would end up messing up and then Blossom would be mad at her. She would be alone again, unwanted and cast out. Furthermore, the magic was incredibly… enticing. She knew the first time she took it that she had to have more of it. Now, to be without it was torture. The world was terrifying and dull at the same time when she was unaffected by the dark, red liquid. Surely it wasn't wrong to escape this pain and fear and boredom? They'd do it all the time with toys and TV and puppet shows.

Buttercup, in the meantime, had lost all interest in making paper frogs. No amount of jumping fake frogs made of flimsy colored paper could make her forget. For days, she had been distracted by either fun or fighting or both. But now that both of them was gone and replaced by school activities, there was time enough for her to think. And remember. And brood.

She couldn't help but to feel she had lost everything. When Bubbles had fallen out with Blossom, she had an opportunity to get on Blossom's good side and 'change' her to become more like her. She was hoping that by the time she was done with her, she would be able to openly maim and kill, and even get Blossom to join in too. But now, it was no longer a possibility. Bubbles had somehow gained an edge and now she was in her glorious leader sister's good books once again. Predictably, Blossom had gone back to playing with dolls and holding tea parties. Everything she had done for days was gone in a matter of hours.

But that wasn't even the worst part. That night after Mullens had yelled at them and brought them home in his smelly little car, Daddy had blamed her for Blossom's mistake. Before this, she had been nothing but willing to forget about the things her Dad had said whenever he thought she wasn't listening, but now, she found that she couldn't help but to bear a grudge against her Dad, not just for misjudging her but also for everything he did – talking behind her back and calling her all sorts of names (even though she didn't know what most of them meant) when he thought she was out of earshot, always choosing her to go first whenever there was a test or experiment to run – favoring Blossom and Bubbles over her! That last bit had been most unforgivable. She suspected that everything had something to do with her being the least loved.

Buttercup hadn't forgotten any of the wrongs her Dad had done to her, owing to her photographic memory, second only to Blossom's. And it'd started right when she was born. Her very name, 'Buttercup', had been chosen only because it started with a 'B'. And when she brought it up, all he did was to find an excuse for his wrongdoing and add a new meaning to it as an afterthought, saying that it was the name of a beautiful flower. And she hated flowers! Her room had been painted and furnished with Blossom's favorite color in mind – which was another unforgivable fact. The color of the room had never failed to remind her that she was second to Blossom, and even third with Bubbles in the picture.

No, Buttercup hadn't forgiven her Dad. Forgiveness wasn't something that came easily to her, if ever. Although she never really loved her Daddy in the same way that non-psychopaths would, she had thought of him as someone important to her and their interactions and relationship, such as they were, were meaningful and beneficial to her nonetheless. With his recent actions, it now felt less so.

On that night after Bubbles' undercover mission in The Strip, Dad had come down on her hard.

'You should have defended your sister!' he'd yelled at her in front of everyone and told her to go to his room, essentially isolating her and grounding her. He'd left her in his room for something like half an hour before he finally deigned to see her. And for what? They argued after that. Buttercup could still remember the argument right down to the tone her father used, and she did not appreciate how he'd yelled at her one bit.

'I am very disappointed in you, Buttercup,' he'd said the moment he entered the room.

'But Dad!' she had objected only to be so rudely cut off.

'No buts! Remember what I told you on your very first day?' her Dad had gone on. 'That out there, as long as the three of you stay together, you'll always have a family?'

'Bubbles isn't the kind of sister I want. I wish I have a sister who's more like me,' Buttercup remembered clearly what she said - she thought she could be honest. She thought it was what her Dad wanted. Instead, he'd turned into something else.

'Now you listen here, young lady!' Dad had yelled at her again the moment he heard her. 'You don't get to choose your family! What you have is what you get - instead of pushing her away, you should help her find herself instead. She looks up to you! As a… a role model! And you're disappointing her!'

Buttercup remembered that she was extremely annoyed with her Dad for lecturing her. Who was he to tell her what to do when he was never there? He was never the one who had to fight crime, and sometimes struggle to survive and get injured anyway, sometimes severely enough in the process that she had to roll around like an idiot in a stupid wheelchair. She remembered letting him know exactly what she thought, and it made Dad really, really mad. She couldn't understand why he would be since she was just telling the truth.

'What do you know, Dad? All you ever do is walk around the house and play in the lab,' Buttercup had said. 'You're worse than Bubbles. At least she'll get shot by the bad guys instead of me.'

'No more desserts for you, Buttercup!' he'd declared her punishment upon hearing with disbelief what she had said to him. 'You're not getting supper either until you apologize to Bubbles and me!'

What she hated most was that she did eventually apologize, not because she wanted to, but because she wanted her desserts and supper back. Missing a few of them had made her cranky. She hated that she had to come crawling back to him, in tears, before he relented, and she hated that she had to apologize to Bubbles even though she knew that she was clearly wrong to have broken her cover while they were searching for her in The Strip. She hated that she had to pretend that she was wrong - something she had to keep doing until forever.

And now, she was uncertain about the future of her relationship with her Dad.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Central District. Above City Hall.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1521.**

School had been uneventful; the hotline there hadn't been ringing, much to Blossom and Bubbles' relief, and Buttercup's annoyance. The former Girls needed the peace and quiet and routine, but Buttercup wanted to hurt and kill in secret and to escape her own mind by participating in some USDO-sanctioned chaos.

It had been over an hour since they started their daily patrol across the Townsville sky, and there hadn't been any real crime committed. Buttercup was becoming increasingly impatient, and to add salt to the wound, Blossom and Bubbles were chatting between each other happily, unaware of her need - not that she would want them to know. Bubbles had swiftly reasserted her position as Blossom's 'favorite', leaving her out once more.

The only thing of note was the street robber they apprehended for snatching a woman's handbag, but Blossom had stolen what tiny little fun there could have been by being the one to punch the criminal out.

Bubbles, on the other hand, had no choice but to get used to the fact that she would have to pretend as if everything was normal for the rest of the foreseeable future. She'd been chatting with Blossom and putting on her most convincing smile ever, yet all the while, she'd been carrying the fairy godmother's magic in a couple of her magazine pouches, and she could feel them in there since. She could feel her skin burning where she had kept them, and the intense desire to just take one out and jab herself with it.

Passing by the City Hall, they waved at Mayor Wilford and Miss Bellum, who happened to be standing at the balcony outside the mayor's office.

"This is Flight Control Four to Bravo-Four-Seven, over," the Girls' radio came alive once more with the voice of a woman, stern and almost robotic. Buttercup's heart leaped with excitement at the prospect of a possible mission, and with it, the chance to hunt for prey, and kill behind Blossom's back. Bubbles couldn't help but be excited either, as it meant an opportunity to use her syringe of His Secret 2.0.

"Hi, Miss Flight Control Four, how can we help you?" Blossom replied on the radio.

"Bravo-Four-Seven, there is an operation requiring your participation. The police and USDO are waiting for you," the flight control officer stated. "Adjust heading by thirty-five degrees to the right, and continue straight to a large group of police officers and USDO soldiers near a farm. Fly low. They will signal for you. Over and out."

"We're going to a farm?" Bubbles said, genuinely interested in the idea. She had never been to one, even though she had heard about it in Dad's stories, whether real or fictional.

"I wish we could do it without fighting crime," Blossom added. "But crime does not sleep."

"I wonder who do we get to pound this time?" Buttercup asked. Each of them had their own guesses. With the current climate of crime, there was no telling what they would end up fighting - But Blossom was optimistic. With Buttercup's new laser beam and Bubbles' BerXerker frenzy, she felt that the three of them were ready for anything.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Towards Cult of His Arm Compound.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1536.**

The USDO had been meticulous in maneuvering the Girls towards the operation that needed them. Multiple flight control towers had reminded them of their heading and helped adjust their flight path whenever they strayed.

Where they had landed, the police and USDO were hushed and staying low, as if children in a room full of boogie men. Where they were, the trees were stripped of even dead leaves, even snow. They shot up from the ground like the hands of the dead. The moment the Girls were there, they knew that they weren't on friendly grounds.

They were met by Detective Mullens, along with Stanley Talker. Someone was missing.

"Hey Mister Mullens, where's Olivia?" Blossom asked while the detective was pulling a shotgun out of the trunk of his car and loading it with shells.

"She's pursuing a different lead this time," the detective answered after pumping his shotgun. "Besides, I can't have her here. It's too dangerous."

"Who are we kicking today, Mister Mullens?" Buttercup asked as he was stuffing his pockets full of shotgun shells.

"You gals remember those red-robed cultists? The ones who messed you three up in the cineplex?" the detective explained as he shut his car trunk and rested his shotgun on his shoulder. He stretched his shoulders for a bit, and cracks rippled throughout his body. "Yeah, it's them. The Cult of His Arm. They're partly responsible for all the crazy drugs strewn around Townsville. We're going to their compound to haul 'em all in and search their place."

Bubbles had fallen silent. The mere mention of drugs had brought about a mixed reaction in her. It'd reminded her of the tough spot she was in - choosing between a clear conscience and performance in combat for the sake of her sisters. It'd also gotten her wondering if she could 'borrow' a few syringes from the cultists.

"I don't mind a little revenge…" Buttercup snarled dangerously as she grinned - some of them did shoot her during the Battle at Silver Age Cineplex, even if one of them allowed her to rip him apart. She was hoping that there were more volunteers.

"Revenge is bad, Buttercup," Blossom lectured her sister quickly before turning to Detective Mullens again: "Do you want us to sneak in and fight first?" Behind her, Buttercup glared at her as if she'd been slapped in the face.

The detective had intended to lead his police officers off but paused at the thought.

"No. We're doing things differently for now. We're going to make a show of force - we roll up to their compound like an army with humvees, with the four of you next to me," the detective explained, including Stanley Talker into the conversation. "It shouldn't end up like the last time at The Strip since it's going to be the five of us - and an army."

Detective Mullens was thinking back to the last time he tried to arrest a large group of criminals without firing a single bullet. It was at The Strip, and he'd tried it with the Girls, still very inexperienced, by his side. He had hoped then that his reputation, combined with the underground's knowledge of the Girls' lethal nature, would get the Lombardi gangsters to come quietly.

It didn't work, and it ended with the Highway 13 Incident in which the Girls had accidentally caused a series of pile-ups on the highway, resulting in over 60 injured. The Girls were hated for it, and it took multiple feats of heroism during the Battle of Morbucks Industries Research Labs for the city to forgive them - and even then, there were still people holding grudges against them. He himself was shot multiple times in the arm and had to be off-duty for way too many days, and even when he dragged himself out of the hospital bed, he'd done so before he was fully recovered, and had gone back to duty with a single arm.

He wasn't going to make the same mistake again. His reputation had been tarnished - and now he was deadly in the eyes of Townsville's criminals once more. The Girls were inexperienced then - and now they could hold their own. He had no backup then - and now he had an entire army at his disposal. And Stanley Talker, of course.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Cult of His Arm Compound.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1549.**

Detective Mullens had ordered the operation to start, and now he was marching along with his army of police officers and USDO personnel - Agent Blake wasn't with them today, as he was needed elsewhere. Together, they followed the road into a dirt path. The farm could be seen in the distance, with its manor on top of a little knoll. A windmill was spinning with the wind, rickety and looking worn from both weather and age, lending an air of Gothic foreboding to the scenery.

"Ri don't rike the srell…" Stanley Talker remarked as they approached the farm. "Reminds re rof the men from the sewers and cinera. Reeks rof drugs!"

"Stay close, boy," Detective Mullens said. "We might need your help if all hell breaks loose."

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had been walking beside him too, opposite Stanley Talker. Blossom enjoyed walking once in a while, feeling the unique ground beneath her feet. She loved peaceful moments like these, before the inevitable chaos. Bubbles was just trying to get her mind off the possible upcoming battle, and the terrible thing she must do to contribute. Buttercup was shaking with anticipation.

"Mister Mullens?" Bubbles suddenly said as she came up next to the detective and held his hand.

"What is it, Bubs?"

"Do you ever think about the bad things you have to do to help people?" Bubbles asked. By experience alone, Mullens knew that Bubbles was suffering from guilt - though he could only guess the cause of it. However, he thought it was her recent killing of a cultist in the Silver Age Cineplex that might have something to do with it - Bubbles wasn't like Buttercup, who enjoyed killing.

"Sometimes," Detective Mullens finally answered, though with so many decades of bad memories to drudge through, some a blur while others clear, some quite vivid, it took him time. "Whenever I'm at home, putting on a game show or movie. Not so much these days, you know why?"

"Why?" Bubbles was eager to know what he was about to say - she was still unsure about the fairy godmother's magic.

"Because I know what I'm doing is right. It don't matter if I killed a few criminals here and there - I'll bring most of them in. Either way, they won't be causing trouble for a while - at least until a corrupt judge reduces their sentence," the detective said, reminiscing. "That means people who would have become victims won't be. Yeah, I can sleep with that."

Bubbles thought it was eye-opening, too. She thought Miss Keane and Detective Mullens were right, and supportive of her drug use even though they didn't know about it. She believed she had no choice, and if the drug could help her, was it truly wrong to use it? Still, being a very emotional creature, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive about it. The wrongness of it all was unshakable. She wished that the walk to the cult compound would be over quickly as she felt that it was hard to contain herself.


	33. Chapter 28: Red (Part 2)

**Chapter 28: Red (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Cult of His Arm Compound.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1609.**

There were explosions everywhere. Fire burning. People were shouting over the rattle of machinegun fire and the piercing report of other gunshots.

Bubbles had been separated from her sisters in the ensuing conflict. Though she had hoped that the cultists would just turn themselves in like good people, they were anything but good people. She and her sisters had immediately dived into combat the moment they saw guns raised with ill intent after the cult speaker had declined to surrender to the police and USDO.

Mullens had gotten into cover quickly – thankfully. She didn't want to see him hurt, as the last time was enough. Stanley Talker had sprinted forward to join them in combat. She was concerned at first, but he'd turned out to be just as impervious to bullets as they were.

Bubbles remembered how exactly it had happened, despite the traumatic turn of events. Mullens had been negotiating with a cult speaker – who wasn't the same cult leader who had assailed them in the Silver Age Cineplex…

"You see this paper? I'm here to search your premises, so if you'd cooperate with me and get all your junkies and bird-brained wizard-wannabes out here, I'd be much obliged," Mullens had demanded of the cult speaker in his usual, rough fashion as he stuck a warrant in her face.

The cult speaker was a tall woman, about the same height as Mullens. She appeared attractive and would have looked better had it not been her sunken cheeks and eyes and pale face. Covered in a red cloak, she promised only danger, not titillation, unlike some other members of her cult. Her eyes and sharp teeth gave the impression of a predatory creature. Or a vampire.

She wasn't alone. The compound was huge, and it used to be a farm, now converted for residency and cult worship. In the empty, untilled field before the manor, there were several campfires and the cultist guards surrounding them rose from their seats, picking up their firearms. In the manor, there were red-robed cultists at every window, each clutching one type of firearm or another. Bubbles was shaken by how many shotguns were between them, and could only think about using the fairy godmother's magic.

"You wish that we assent to your will?" The cult speaker laughed. "We 'submit' only to insects such as you only if it benefits us. No – we give in only to Him. So allow me to put to you a counter-offer: you will join us or leave. This offer extends to the four of you especially, Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup and… Stanley Talker. The master would be pleased to have his fellow shadow-kin on his side…"

What she said had made the talking dog growl aggressively, as if ready to bite and strike at any moment.

"Who is this 'master' even?" Blossom asked aloud, annoyed at how the cult was keeping their apparent 'leader' a secret. Why couldn't she be honest just like everybody else? The vampire lady in red turned to Blossom.

"He is a being of great power, dear Blossom," the cult speaker divulged. "Same as you, and He desires to transform this world in His image, and bring about a new paradise for us all. Join Him, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup… and Stanley – it is only fitting, for the four of you are the same as Him."

"But your friends attacked us…" Bubbles asserted shyly. "It's not very nice…"

"Yeah, why should we join you and your 'master' if you've been hurting my friends?" Blossom said, still unsure of what 'master' meant.

"Friends? You call these insignificant blanks your friends?" the vampire-like speaker said condescendingly, and Blossom and Bubbles didn't like that. They frowned at her. Buttercup, too – she could always use a few more heads to smash, whether they were voluntary or involuntary. "They bred you in captivity like livestock, put you in these laughable vessels that they would call 'cute' and 'friendly'. They've enslaved you and made you do their bidding. They've forced you to adopt their primitive and meaningless ways - and you call them your friends!?"

"Okay, enough of this mumbo jumbo," Detective Mullens dismissed the cult speaker's offer brashly. "I'm giving you one more chance. You see that army behind me?" Mullens pointed with his thumb behind him, over his shoulder. Police officers and USDO soldiers, supported by humvees with machinegun mounts and grenade launchers, were arrayed against the cult compound. "They're itching to bust your place up, maybe even plug a few of you crazies with lead. It'd go a lot more peaceful-like if you surrender now."

"There will be no surrender unless it's to Him! You can't stop the inevitable!" the cult speaker screeched without warning, her eyes glowing bright red, shocking everyone in Mullens' parley party. From within her red robe, an arm shot out, an old pistol in her hand. Blossom, who was closest, reacted the fastest, flying straight into her and tackling her to the ground and pinning her pistol arm to the ground.

Gunshots rang out. Mullens dived into a group of gnarly trees nearby after firing a couple of shotgun blasts on the move, putting down one of the more aggressive cultists. Bubbles and Buttercup crouched low on the ground, one terrified while the other pumped and ready, as they waited for Blossom's direction. Stanley Talker kept himself prone, ready to pounce as he growled.

Cultists were running towards them, shotguns and rifles and SMGs blazing.

"This is Mullens, begin the assault now, now, NOW!" the detective bellowed into his radio as he scrambled into a better cover position behind a tree while a bullet grazed his arm while he was down.

"Buttercup, with me to the left!" Blossom ordered quickly after punching out the cult speaker. She was a tough one and needed several blows before she finally fell unconscious. A sniper bullet slammed into her skull as she turned to Bubbles, knocking her on her butt. Nevertheless, she carried on despite the pain and eyes misting: "Bubbles, take the right! Go!"

"But- I can't do it on my own!" Bubbles whined, halting the Girls' counter-attack singlehandedly.

"Just use your new power, dummy!" Buttercup scolded.

"I'll help you as soon as I can, now go!" Blossom instructed, and without waiting for Bubbles' reply, she plowed straight at the group of cultists she was targeting, alongside Buttercup. Still caught in a dilemma between fighting clean or under the influence of the fairy godmother's drugs, Bubbles was only forced into action by the sound of Buttercup's battlecry and gunshots flying in her direction, bouncing off her Kevlar armguard as she shielded her face.

Not wanting to fail her sisters once more, she kicked herself up into a high floating position and flew at her targets, realizing too late that Blossom had assigned her a group that wasn't small.

Several gunshots tested her resolve. It was almost whittled down to nothing by several shotgun blasts – without the drug, her old fears were easily as damaging as Duranium bullets.

There was something wrong with the cultists. Their eyes were red, some dull, others were glowing… reminding her of her own eyes when she took the fairy godmother's magic.

Winding up a half-hearted punch, Bubbles was nonetheless able to floor one of them. She immediately felt another clubbing her on the back with a shotgun stock. The blow hurt far more than usual - which was almost paralyzing. Twisting around, she grabbed the shotgun, pulled it out of the cultist shotgunner's hands and broke the weapon in two with her knee – oh, how she hated those infernal weapons! But turning to another cultist, she was too slow to react to another cultist pointing his shotgun directly to her face and pulling the trigger. Pain exploded in her face as she lost control and dropped to the ground, her last flash of thought being regret that she hadn't drugged herself with the magic and her sisters would hate her for it.

At the same time, Stanley Talker had taken it upon himself to take down some of the more isolated cultists to protect Mister Mullens. Sprinting forward, he launched himself at a pistol-wielding cultist, knocking him down before biting him in the wrist to get him to let go of his weapon. However, even when he did, the talking dog had no way to follow up on his disarming attack. A rifle slug, in the meantime, had slammed against a side of his body, penetrating his canine Kevlar jacket. It did nothing - being a recipient of Chemical W, he was almost as resistant to bullets as the Girls.

Taking advantage of his enhanced strength, Stanley dragged the downed, screaming cultist by his bleeding wrist, and on surging forward, threw him at the nearby rifle-armed cultist, knocking him down with his own fellow new age believer. While the second man was down, the talking dog sprinted towards him, biting him in the arm as well.

Blossom and Buttercup were quickly putting down their group of cultists. But something was different. Something was wrong. After punching one cultist in the side of the neck, she expected her to be knocked out, as the rest of the criminals she faced usually did. Instead, the cultist had gotten back up and put pistol shots in her back while she had moved on to someone else.

Buttercup had noticed the same thing – despite putting a blow in a cultist's chest and hearing some cracks from the force she was putting in her punch, and throwing him several yards away, he'd gotten back up as if he'd just tripped and went back to business as usual, pulling out some kind of machete to re-enter the fray.

"What is with these people!?" Buttercup yelled as she pushed aside another cultist's shotgun before driving a foot in between his chest and stomach. She followed that up with a drop-kick to his head, knowing that they were harder to knock out.

The police and USDO forces were lined up behind trees, stone fences and vehicles - as the Girls were in the way, they had started trading shots with cultist shooters in the manor instead. Machinegun fire peppered the windows as rifle-armed SWAT officers and USDO soldiers picked off targets at the windows. Grenade launchers mounted on humvees fired smoke grenades in a high arc, which landed yards before the manor and exploded in clouds of smoke, blocking the view of most of the cultists at the first-floor windows. This was followed up by explosives, launched at more remote corners of the field to take out the snipers there.

The cultists fought back with their own long-arms. Combatants fell on both sides. But the cultists were something else entirely - somehow, even without the same protection and training as the law enforcers, they were entirely unafraid of the firepower the police and USDO were putting out. Cultists who were gunned down would get back up again to continue their zealous struggle. Even those who had lost an arm or a leg had continued fighting.

The battle, however, was not confined to a frontal assault. Mullens had arranged for some men to raid the compound from the back and sides. It was meant to be a surprise, but the sound of distant gunshots and shouts meant that they were prepared for it.

"Just- Hit them harder!" Blossom yelled as she strained to keep the eight or so cultists she was fighting against under control as well. She had been firing her infrared eye beam at point-blank range at them, strong enough to knock out adult human beings, but it was no longer enough. As she struck down a few, only to be beset by several more, those few would get back up again.

After getting peppered with a burst of SMG shots, she'd began searing them with greater heat, enough to burn their robes and injure them - it'd saddened her that she had to resort to such harsher measures, but it was the only way.

The cultists, however, weren't deterred. Some were even wearing expressions which were a mix of grimaces and smiles as if the pain was a pleasure, to be sought out, and to be struck down was an achievement.

But Blossom's desperate measures were yielding fruit. The cultists she burned did not get up. Things were still getting hotter, however - she heard Bubbles screaming not far away, and looking over at the group she was supposed to take down, she found a most terrifying sight: Bubbles was surrounded by cultists, who had resorted to the brutal and barbaric use of bare fists, feet and gun stocks to pummel and bash her. They were all over her, and Blossom couldn't even see her sister in that forest of frenzied red-eyes and ill-meaning limbs.

The leader of The Three flew immediately towards them to aid her sister, bowling into them like a cannonball, sending cultists flying everywhere. It was only then did she got a look at Bubbles - and she looked haggard, with her vest askew and her uniform torn in places, probably from the cultists clawing at her. Bruises were actually starting to form on her face, proof that the cultists weren't quite normal. Somehow, they were stronger than the usual bad guys they were facing.

"Are you okay, Bubbles?" Blossom asked urgently as she pulled her sister up to her feet.

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles mewled, unable to even look her as she clutched her arm.

"Why aren't you using your new power?" Blossom asked. Mad screams coming closer to the both of them ensured that she wouldn't get an answer, however. Both Girls turned to the source and saw a topless, barefooted man clothed only in cargo pants charging at them, and he was strapped with blocks of explosives on his chest, a detonator in one hand.

Detective Mullens had tried to work around the Girls and shoot him down, but the suicide bomber continued screaming his way towards the Girls even with a few shotgun pellets to the stomach. The cultists of a saner variety all around them fled as the suicide bomber got close enough, and promptly detonated his payload before the Girls knew to react properly. Blossom and Bubbles were sent flying in different directions. Blossom backward, while Bubbles had crashed through a stone wall separating different fields.

Blossom, with her uniform on fire, was rolling on the snowy ground, stopping only after a distance. With her ears ringing and vision a blur, she saw her cultist opponents rearranging their positions, putting themselves behind cover to conduct conventional warfare against her police and USDO friends. In the distance, Buttercup had stubbornly continued the fight solo, having graduated to firing her newfangled laser beam at her equally stubborn enemies. Straining her eyes, Blossom was touched that she had avoided killing anyone - opting instead to reduce the strength of her beams such that it was enough to tear skin and cause bleeding, but not sever limbs and kill.

Buttercup would sweep her laser eyebeam across multiple enemies at once, hurting them as well as putting enough fear in them to push them back. But she was getting tired - panting, and sweating and reduced to standing rather than hovering. It was a new power, which meant that it was harder to use.

Sensing that Buttercup needed her help, Blossom flew in her direction, firing her own eye beams, adding burns to her enemies' wounds besides laser cuts. But she, too, sensed that she was beginning to tire from her excessive use of enhanced abilities.

And that was how Bubbles had ended up separated from her sisters. Getting up with her ears ringing and her vision blurred, like Blossom, she sat behind the stone wall and leaned on it, badly shaken and terrified. The fear felt incredibly raw, worse than before. It was outright disabling. Despite the cold, she found herself sweating profusely, her sweat turning into crystals on her skin.

It was happening all over again. History was repeating itself. Soon, she heard her sisters screaming - in pain and in fear. Something had bested them, and she was powerless to stop it.

Unless.

There was no other way. Miss Keane and Mister Mullens were right. She stared into the distance as she shuddered in pain while taking a deep breath. And in the distance, on a knoll, was the fairy godmother standing among some trees, visible from her dress and wings. She saw her nodding her. The fairy godmother knew all along - Bubbles surmised - that she needed her magic.

Reaching into her leftmost magazine pouch, Bubbles pulled out a metal syringe with 'His Secret 2.0' written on it. Pushing her Kevlar arm guard out of the way and tapping on her forearm, near the crook of her elbow, she found a vein and promptly jabbed herself with the needle and depressed the plunger.

She felt her blood boil almost immediately as she hid her face behind her hands, both ashamed to show even the trees and vegetation what she did, and just as regretful of the expression on her face as it changed to one of excitement and elation as pure, concentrated pleasure washed over her. The pain inflicted upon her became a thing of the past. Fear no longer held sway in her heart. Anger began rising in her as she remembered what the cultists had done to her, and what they were doing to her sisters. That anger became rage, and as she got to her knees, taking in the addictive sensations that dispelled all worries in her, she turned that rage into destruction as she stood up and punched out the stone wall she had been leaning on, completely blowing up that section of the old masonry.

The moment she did, several cultists had turned to her, their eyes shining equally as hellish red as hers. Not all of them were frightened. Some smiled as if welcoming relatives into their homes. All of them shot at her nonetheless. Ignoring shotgun pellets and pistol rounds, Bubbles zipped forward to the nearest cultist with a crazed screech before killing him with a single swipe of her fingernails, opening up windpipe, arteries, and veins. The fingers of her right glove were torn because of it.

Another shotgun blast informed her of who to slaughter next. She launched herself into a flying kick at him, connecting with his upper arm within a second, sending him flying to the ground and tumbling. The cultist had suffered it with an odd, masochistic laugh, despite his shattered shoulder and pulverized upper arm. Bubbles silenced him by following his tumble, landing next to him and stomping on his neck, completely flattening it with blood splattering underneath as if she had stepped on a fruit.

A third cultist, the frightened one, started running. Bubbles launched herself into her, fist-first, breaking the cultist lady's spine in two, who dropped to the ground like a broken twig, wailing in pain. Bubbles touched down, tilting her head as she observed the result of her artwork. She thought the lady looked funny that way and laughed maniacally.

"You look funny!" Bubbles laughed as the broken lady continued to scream.

But the screams of her sisters, despite her dosage of His Secret 2.0, took precedence, not that she'd remembered her sisters after she began ripping at her enemies under the influence of the fairy godmother's magic.

Bubbles searched the field for her sisters. They were surrounded by cultists, some writhing in pain on the floor, slick and smooth with snow melted and refrozen as ice, some not moving at all.

Blossom and Buttercup were being assailed by a hulking, topless man in a jawless mask, wielding a giant axe that shimmered faintly in all sorts of colors. There was also a woman wielding dual swords of the same metal, covered only by a cloak, and as it fluttered, it could be seen that she was barefooted and naked underneath. Several other cultists of various eccentricities in their gear and cult uniform were coming. Her sisters were bloodied – the blades the cult wielded were Duranium. They were barely holding their own with the police and USDO still exchanging shots with the snipers in the manor, afraid to intervene on the Girls' behalf because they were in melee with the strangest of the cultists, their champions.

Bubbles didn't care – all she saw were more bodies to rip and tear, more people to make scream and beg. Flying to the cultic axeman, he delivered a fly-by punch to his cheek. The axeman fell to the floor on one knee.

"Bubbles!" Blossom and Buttercup shouted gladly in unison. Bubbles did not reply and instead continued counter-attacking the axeman. It didn't take long for either Girls to notice the change in their sister's eye color, and they each gasped their own surprise and fear when they did.

Bubbles delivered another right hook to the axeman's jaw before he could recover. There was an audible crack. Yellowish-brown teeth were scattered on white snow, trailed by the maroon of blood.

The axeman swung his weapon upwards at Bubbles, only for her to chop the handle of the axe in two. She finished him off with a kick to his mouth, further causing ripples of cracks. He crashed into the ground after that - alive or dead, no one knew, not even Bubbles - and Bubbles cared only about who she could hurt next.

"Bubbles, look out!" Blossom warned her sister but it was too late – neither was she, weakened by injury, fast enough to intervene. The Twin-swords cultist had swung both her swords at Bubbles, slicing her in the arm before Blossom could tackle her to the ground.

Buttercup, in the meantime, had to fight on against another cultist with what appeared to be a Duranium claymore when more of them had entered the fray. The cultist swung his large two-handed sword at her despite her laser, slicing her in the cheek and giving her a Glasgow smile.

"Not the face, you dung!" Buttercup shouted and fired a stronger laser in response, shearing the cultist down to the bone in his arm and chest before tackling him and while she straddled him, punched him in the face, scattering yet more teeth for her trophy collection.

Blossom backed away from Twin-Swords, looking over at Bubbles as she was more concerned about her sister.

"Bubbles! You're hurt!" Blossom gasped, flying over to her BeXerked sister to do something – anything to help, only to be pushed roughly to the ground by an out-of-control Bubbles who snarled at Twin-Swords, who was just getting up.

Bubbles charged the woman in a cloak with reckless abandon, who performed a scissor-strike with both her swords. The drug-crazed little girl intercepted both blades with her forearms and pushing it against the lady, threw her off-balance and pinned the cultist down with her back to the snow and pressing the flat side of her blades against her throat. With both her arms occupied, Bubbles headbutted the cultist instead, which stunned her hard enough for her to let go of her twin swords. Straddling the woman, she began punching her in the face repeatedly, and there was a sickening crack every time she hit the woman. Blood had covered Bubbles' gloved knuckles.

"Bubbles! No! You'll kill her!" Blossom shouted, unable to believe that Bubbles had gone the Buttercup path. Flying to her, she took Bubbles by the arms from behind, only for her to throw her off.

"Leave me alone before I kill you too!" Bubbles screamed without thought at Blossom. The hostility and rage in Bubbles' face, the way it was scrounged up in pure fury and hatred - how red those eyes were - had shocked Blossom beyond words.

But she had to try to stop Bubbles. She was the leader, after all. Grabbing her by the arm before she could continue her work and kill Twin-Swords, she tried to restrain her, only for Bubbles to twist around and punch her in the mouth.

Blossom fell back, cupping her mouth with both her hands, writhing on the ground as she felt as if her teeth might have all fallen out. For one insane moment, she thought this to be a reality, until she felt, gently, that her teeth were still in place if hurting. But on withdrawing her hands, she saw that they were covered in blood. She broke into a panicked sob when she realized that her sweetest sister had injured her intentionally.

And she was standing over her, those hellish red eyes staring down at her, such that Blossom actually believed that Bubbles might make good on her words and kill her. For the first time in her short life, Blossom was actually frightened of Bubbles - and she had previously been one of the most harmless people she had ever known, despite her enhanced abilities.

Bubbles stood over Blossom, her hands clenched into tight fists that her knuckles were cracking. She looked unhinged.

"Bubbles, don't…" Blossom begged as she cringed away from her. Bubbles' hellish red eyes searched her pink eyes. If there was any restraint left in the blond little girl, it was like thin ice, threatening to break at the slightest provocation. The sadistic smile on Bubbles' face wasn't particularly encouraging.

But before anything could happen, a sniper bullet had bounced off of the back of Bubbles' skull, which caused her to turn around and charge back into battle.

"Woah! What did she do to you!?" Buttercup, who was covering her Glasgow smile with a hand, had only just noticed Blossom as she was busy fending off more cultists - having only just managed to gain the upper hand against several swords or machete-wielding red robes and a few gunners.

"We- we have to follow Bubbles-" Blossom mumbled as she tried to speak with her teeth still so tender. Off in the distance, Bubbles had continued her rampage - hurling herself into a group of three rifle-armed cultists before breaking both legs of one, punching another so hard in the stomach that he was sent flying numerous yards away and slashing and puncturing another with her nails.

It seemed as though Bubbles had gone off the deep end, and was beyond hope, even far beyond the evil Buttercup was capable of committing. But there was something Blossom noticed - the men she was hurting were still writhing on the ground. They were still alive. Had she gotten through to her? Through that thick, red haze of rage and hatred? Blossom could only hope that Bubbles was pulling back her punches.

And just as Blossom sprung after Bubbles with Buttercup next to her, Bubbles had launched herself into another group of cultists in another field - the last group, actually - before slamming into one of them, knocking him into a tree. She proceeded to kick another in the face, breaking nose and teeth. The last man standing, whose eyes shone red and thus was pretty strong, had managed to grab Bubbles from behind and perform an arm choke. Bubbles, however, was able to wriggle around in his grasp, slippery as any little kid tend to be. When her arms were still restrained, she lunged at the man and bit him in the neck before tearing a chunk of flesh out with her teeth alone.

The man screamed - screamed like something never to be expected from a well-ripped overzealous cultist. Blood poured out of his neck, coloring his red robes redder - Bubbles was unfazed as if it was just like taking a warm shower. Licking her lips, Bubbles continued flying towards the manor.

Blossom and Buttercup had seen it all. Giving that man a bite in the neck was a whole new level of depravity altogether. And did Bubbles just drink some of that man's blood? The pink and green Girls were shocked to the point of non-action, to the point where they were unsure if they'd want to be anywhere near their sister while she was still using her new BerXerker power.

Bubbles barrelled through the Manor's front door alone, her mouth and chin and fingers dripping with blood, sending cultic men and women scrambling away in fear, escaping from whatever direction that would put any appreciable distance between them and the crazed little girl. Few stood and fight.

A red-robed woman at the foot of a wooden flight of stairs was shooting an old Grease Gun submachine gun at her. A couple of men at the corridor beside the stairs were letting off shots with bolt-action rifles. They weren't even the toughest the cult had to offer - Bubbles had long crippled or killed them outside.

Zipping towards the woman, Bubbles parried her SMG before smashing her through the stairs, breaking her back. Blossom's plea for mercy was all the way at the back of her mind - blood, violence, anger, and hatred were her only preoccupations with the fairy godmother's blessing.

Stealing the Grease Gun from the cultic woman, Bubbles unloaded it one-handed at the other two cultists, having all but forgotten Blossom's words within seconds. She didn't stop with them. She continued firing when she saw a few cultists running away towards the end of the corridor. Bodies were hitting the floor at an alarming rate.

And when the Grease Gun was out of bullets, Bubbles slapped at it as if it was some cheap toy.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she screamed madly as she pounded at the Grease Gun before breaking it in two and tossing it aside, annoyed at the limitations of the toy. Unslinging her own MP5, which she had neglected to use for so long because of her single-minded pursuit of personal violence, she continued to terrorize the cultists, giggling madly as she did…


	34. Chapter 29: Red (Part 3)

Reply to Guest: Yeah, and Bubbles is fun to write too.

* * *

**Chapter 29: Red (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Cult of His Arm Compound.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1625.**

Blossom and Buttercup had reached the front door of the manor too late, as they had to knock out a few straggling cultists before they could get to the building. By the time they got there, they couldn't stop Bubbles, only see the needless destruction she had caused.

There was a woman in the stairs, literally, stuck in a hole there as if a giant had shoved her halfway through it. She was still groaning in pain by the time the two Girls saw her and passed out before they could question her. In the corridor next to it, there were six bodies, some barely moving, some not, and Blossom was surprised that the former was still breathing because of the number of bullet wounds in them.

The sound of gunshots exchanged between the manor and the law enforcement units outside had significantly lessened, reduced to one deliberate potshot every few seconds. It was becoming quiet. The battle was concluding.

The Girls couldn't hear Bubbles. She had been maddeningly loud before.

"Buttercup, search upstairs – I'll look for her here," Blossom said to her sister nervously.

"Sure thing, sis," Buttercup was exhausted, so she had to run up the wooden stairs like a normal kid, except faster and less awkward. The thing with her was… she knew exactly where Bubbles was through her enhanced hearing, and she certainly wasn't where she was going.

Blossom started searching by using her x-ray vision, looking through the walls of the manor as she ran from room to room, shouting Bubbles' name desperately. At one point, she had bumped into a wall she was looking through, forgetting in her anxiety that it was there. But there was no Bubbles, only whatever remained of the cultists she had gone through. Most were alive, some vaguely so. A few weren't so lucky. Blossom could only hope that the gunshot wounds they suffered weren't from Bubbles.

After a few rooms over and still no sign of Bubbles, Blossom found a few SWAT officers. Two of them were dead on the ground. One of them had bullet wounds all over him, but he was still alive if heaving his breath as if drowning. His helmet was off and his balaclava was rolled up even though it was a combat zone. He knew he was living his last hour.

Blossom came up to him and knelt down beside him, unsure of what to do. Their eyes made contact. It reminded Blossom of the first time she fought crime at the Townsville Central Bank, when she was, again, the last person a SWAT cop saw before he died. It'd made her tear up, just seeing a good man – a police officer – die just because he tried to make the world a better place. Standing up, she gave the dying cop a hug. He didn't even have the strength to lift his arms before he heaves his final few breaths, gasps and entered his death throes, before finally stopping – forever.

* * *

Meanwhile, as Blossom was comforting a dying policeman, Buttercup was racing upstairs, towards a sound she heard. And it wasn't on the second floor. The second floor was quiet – the cultists sniping from there were either dead or hiding like cowards. But Buttercup could hear an even bigger coward, hiding much further away.

The sound was a restrained weeping, but there was a second sound. A baby was crying – why it was there and why it was crying, Buttercup didn't care.

The little girl, with a grin plastered on her face, looked up. It was all coming from above the second floor. The attic. Her House had one too, though they had never gone up there except for during a tour around The House that Dad gave them on their second week's birthday.

Flying up fist-first, Buttercup smashed through the ceiling to enter that dark place up above. Landing next to the hole she made, she saw who had been making that noise. A woman next to a cradle, practically naked as she wore some kind of a see-through red silk dress, with only her bra and panties really covering anything at all. A baby was in the cradle. They were the family of The Cult of His Arm's leader, though Buttercup did not know, nor would she have cared who they were.

* * *

Bubbles wasn't anywhere to be found on the first floor, so after saying goodbye to the dying policeman who was now dead, Blossom had to wipe her tears away and go on, no matter how much she just felt like bawling away on the ground.

After checking the immediate vicinity around the manor, only to find more SWAT cops and USDO soldiers advancing on the house and cuffing any surviving cultists, then the garden, which was full of dead cultists with tight-fitting bags on their heads and no gunshot wounds or injuries, Blossom decided that she could be in the basement.

Descending down into the dark underground, Blossom had to think twice about it – Bubbles would never have entertained the idea of going to such a place – but she remembered what Bubbles had become with her new BerXerker ability.

There was almost no light at all. Blossom could only make out vague, colorless shapes and she had to descend down the steps on foot due to her exhaustion. Unable to find a switch, she had to light up her eyes instead, shining the way ahead.

Blossom thought she could hear sniffling and weeping. She found that her heart was beating and screaming more than it did when she was just facing cultists.

At the foot of the stairs, she was afraid to turn the corner, despite all her enhanced abilities and infrared beam and track record. But after swallowing a slimy glob of saliva, she finally did…

* * *

Buttercup was flashing her usual predatory shark smile when she found the woman and baby in the attic. She scanned the nearly-naked woman from head to toe. She was voluptuously beautiful, with perfectly shaped limbs, toned in color and muscles to appear not too harried by the pressures of staying in shape but not too weak. But Buttercup wasn't staring at her hungrily for her beauty. Her flesh was her toy, like the Play-Doh Daddy got for her. But those colorful slabs of dough could only last for so long before she got bored of them. The human body, on the other hand, was so much more fascinating.

The woman started forward, pointing a pistol that she had hastily taken from a dressing table next to the cradle. The baby cried as usual, and Buttercup thought derisively that it reminded her of Bubbles.

Buttercup was unfazed by the woman's reaction, even as she cocked her pistol with trembling hands and threatened with a shaken voice that she would shoot.

Buttercup kicked off into a hovering position, a slight aura of green light was emitted around her, visible in the dim attic. It was just to show her her power, or at least what was at the tip of the iceberg.

It was enough to break the woman, who burst into unsightly tears as the pistol fell from her trembling hands. In truth, Buttercup's eyes, which glowed menacingly green in the dark, was already enough to scare her senseless – her breaking was just a delayed response, slowed by maternal instinct and futile hope.

"P-please… don't hurt the baby!" the woman cried and begged. "Its all I have left – take me instead… Please, just leave my precious alone…" Buttercup thought that it was a treat, having another person volunteering to be mutilated and killed by her.

* * *

"Bubbles?" Blossom called out in the dark basement. She had rounded the corner after plucking up whatever remained of her courage.

She was just right there, and she wasn't even trying to hide at all. She was kneeling in a pool of blood, surrounded by the corpses of eight cultists.

"Bubbles? It's me, Blossom – don't punch me again, okay?" she said to Bubbles. She wasn't sure if she heard it as there was no reaction from her.

Bubbles was facing away from her, so Blossom only knew that she was crying from the sound of her sniffling, sobbing, and trembling. Her face was in her hands, as if ashamed, or afraid – even though the only frightening thing in the basement was herself.

Blossom inched closer to her. The closer she got, the more afraid she was of coming closer to what was supposed to be her sweet, harmless sister.

"Bubbles?" Blossom said her name one last time, and it was as if she'd finally heard, as she had removed her face from her hand and turned her head, not all the way to the back to face her, but enough such that Blossom could see her left eye. It was still hellish red, screaming lethal danger.

* * *

Buttercup had taken the cult leader's bride at her word. When she ordered the woman to turn around, which she reluctantly did so, Buttercup gave her a kick in the small of her back so hard that it'd broken her spine and caused her to fall to the wooden ground. Next, Buttercup landed over the woman's leg and stomped it in the back of the knee, crushing her knee cap against the hardwood flooring. There was a crunching sound as she shattered it. She followed this up with a kick to the woman's ribs when she flipped around. There were more cracking sounds. Buttercup knew that she had broken a few ribs. The woman screamed.

"No- please!" the woman begged, and her contradictory request confused Buttercup. Didn't she just ask that she kill her rather than the baby? Buttercup knew what it meant, and it'd given her an idea. Walking over the woman to the cradle, Buttercup floated up to take a peek at the baby - it was still crying non-stop. Buttercup found it annoying and wished that it would shut up. At the same time, the woman had somehow crawled up to the cradle, in a feeble attempt to get the baby before Buttercup did, but her broken back and left leg had made it impossible for her to stand up and rescue it. "No! Not the baby! Please! Don't hurt her!"

"You're funny, missus," Buttercup simply said as she picked up the baby, surprisingly gentle and instinctively savvy in holding the baby, which wriggled in her tiny arms. Even more surprisingly, the baby had stopped crying. Touching down, Buttercup stood a distance from the woman, who had pulled herself up to a rough sitting position using the cradle. "You said you'd let me kill you, and now you didn't want it. Should I kill your baby then?"

"Please don't!" the woman screamed. Buttercup enjoyed seeing her like this. Her desperation and agony were amusing. The little girl had never liked being forced into the same position by Blossom, and it felt cathartic to do the same to someone else. It felt good, knowing that someone else would look worse than her when threatened. "Not my baby! Please, you can take me! Just not her! Don't kill her!"

Buttercup gritted her teeth in a sadistic smile the moment the word 'kill' was mentioned. Shifting the baby to one hand, Buttercup pulled her pistol out of her holster and pointed it dead center at the baby's forehead, the muzzle pressing against the baby's skin gently. Her finger was on the trigger. A slight pressure in the wrong direction would have dire consequences.

"NOOOO!"

* * *

When Bubbles heard Blossom, she stood up and turned fully around. Her eyes were still red, and she had been bleeding from them as if the blood in her eyes were too much. But mixed in with the blood were tears.

"Hello, sister!" Bubbles greeted Blossom with so much venom that it sounded exactly like pure hatred for her.

"Bubbles?" Blossom said, her voice a near whisper. "What's happening to you?"

"Blossom…" Bubbles' expression had swung around all of a sudden, from one of pure rage and hatred to one of intense sadness and shock and fear. And pain. The red in her eyes began fading until it was blue once again in a sea of blood. Blossom took it as a sure sign that Bubbles was 'better' again. She noticed, too, that she had been injured, having suffered multiple cuts from Duranium blades.

"Bubbles - I've been so worried about you!" Blossom said as she came up to her for a hug. Bubbles accepted it, needing it badly.

"I'm so sorry I've hurt you! I didn't mean it!" Bubbles cried. "I… couldn't control myself!"

"It's okay," Blossom comforted her. "I guess I… deserve it, in a way."

"But you don't…" Bubbles said. "I wouldn't have hurt you if I-" Bubbles couldn't continue. There were no words for the rampage she had committed, and any mention of her drug would destroy her. Probably set Blossom off, and then it'd be back to square one, with her becoming hated and useless once more.

"Bubbles," Blossom suddenly said firmly as she withdrew herself from the hug. "You can't go around hurting and killing people like this - no matter how bad they are. They weren't like the Purple Man… besides, Dad said we can't. I need you to control yourself better."

"You're not going to tell Dad, are you?" Bubbles asked, a small part of her enraged and insane self still within her, afraid that Blossom was going to tattle on her. She thought that if Dad knew, he'd find out about her secret, somehow.

"Promise me you'll control yourself," Blossom demanded, her face and voice gone cold.

"I'll try…" Bubbles promised, though deep down, she knew that it was an empty one. As much as she wanted to do good by her leader sister and listen to her Daddy - the fairy godmother's magic was wondrous. She'd felt so much more pleasure this time, and the thrill of fighting without fear was equal to none. The very act of killing and hurting others had enhanced it, and the biggest secret of all this time was that she'd felt ecstatic when she'd punched Blossom in the mouth. True to what Blossom had said, it felt like justice - and revenge, she wouldn't admit. Not that she would admit either that it was justice, too. It was only by her love that she'd held back on hurting her more. "I'm sorry…"

What was worst, however, was the fact that when all her bad emotions had returned - the fear, depression, and anxiety - they felt even worse next to the intense ecstasy while she was under the influence of the magic. Moreover… did the magic last longer this time? It would partly explain why it'd felt so much more pleasurable.

* * *

"NO! Please don't!" the cult leader's bride had been begging for what felt like forever. Buttercup had been threatening to kill her baby time and again. The best part? It never got old.

"But you said 'no' when I was kicking you," Buttercup repeated herself, acting shallow and coy just to get at the woman, giving her reasons to believe that her baby was in peril, though to be fair, Buttercup had been seriously considering killing the baby anyway. She had never done it before, and it felt like something she should try. 'We should try everything at least once in our life' – wasn't that what Mommy and Daddy would say?

"I'm sorry – please!" the lady pleaded and cried. "Take me instead! Not her, please! She's innocent!"

"I don't know," Buttercup continued to taunt the woman. "I think I'm bored of you." She lifted her pistol from the baby's forehead only to press it against the baby's stomach. "I wonder if your baby would sound like one of Bubbles' toys if I press her belly button with a bullet?"

Instead of the usual reaction however, the woman had started clawing at her chest, at the ribs she broke as she was gasping for air, before convulsing.

"Buttercup, just what are you doing!?" Blossom's voice had suddenly boomed out of nowhere. It'd shocked Buttercup that she had nearly pulled the trigger. Turning around to the sound of her glorious leader sister's voice, hoping that it was just her imagination, Buttercup was very quickly disappointed.

Both her sisters were floating over the hole she made.

"What are you doing with that baby?" Blossom questioned again, with her hands on her hip and a very cross look on her face.

'Oh no,' Buttercup thought as she felt nervousness rise up in her like never before. She shifted her gaze to the near-naked woman before turning back to Blossom, betraying another of her crimes to her sisters. Bubbles, who herself was dripping with blood, flew up next to the woman to check on her.

"I- But I was just- It's not what it looks like!" Buttercup stammered, already imagining the consequences with Dad. No, she could already see it. "I was just playing with the baby, really!"

"By pointing a gun at it!?" Blossom bellowed - or what amounted to a bellow from a little girl. "Don't you know how dangerous those things are to normal people!?"

She felt like slapping herself, not for endangering a baby for amusement (not to mention seriously considering killing it) nor for injuring and planning the death of an unarmed civilian, but for growing overconfident and not listening to her surroundings for Blossom when she should have known better.

"I… forgot," Buttercup tried to salvage the situation by lying. All it got her was an angrier Blossom who shook her head in disbelief. "Honest!"

"Blossom!" Bubbles shouted from the side. She'd been checking the woman on the floor for a pulse on her neck and wrist, just like how Mommy and Blake had taught her. "The lady's dead and she's hurt really badly."

Blossom glared at Buttercup, feeling anger boiling inside her. With Bubbles' BerXerker ability going out of control, the last thing she needed was Buttercup suddenly acting up and killing when she had been fine for more than a month! At least, that was from Blossom's perspective. She was still none the wiser when it came to her sister's other homicidal activities.

"Did you do this, Buttercup!?" Blossom interrogated her wayward sister, pointing at the recent corpse on the floor.

'Oh no, oh no, oh no!' Alarm bells were ringing in Buttercup's head. Double trouble! And things were going so well too - she'd been able to kill quite a few people before Blossom had caught on.

"I didn't- It- She was already there when I got here!" Buttercup lied even further. "I didn't kill her!"

Blossom closed her eyes, trying to control the anger inside her. She knew that Buttercup was lying. She'd heard Buttercup threatening the lady on the way up to the attic.

"YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO KILL ANYONE, STUPID!" Blossom yelled at Buttercup, throwing out her hands as she did.

"But- But-" Buttercup was grasping at straws, looking for a way out. Any way out. The way Blossom blew up had shaken her - previously, it'd been funny when it happened to Bubbles, but now she knew how it was like to be on the receiving end of it. "Why does Bubbles get to kill and I don't!? It's not fair!"

"Bubbles couldn't control herself but you can!" Blossom fired back. In the meantime, the turn the argument had taken, which had evolved to involve her, was upsetting to Bubbles. She hated what she had become - a killer. And she could remember every single bit of it too. "Hand that baby over, Buttercup!"

Buttercup did not listen immediately. Instead, she'd backed away from Blossom instead, holding the baby closely, her gun coming back up to the baby's head. At this point, Bubbles was biting her fingernails. It looked as though Buttercup was holding the baby hostage.

"I'm not doing it! You're going to tell Dad about me, aren't you!?" Buttercup shouted, her pistol hand shaking, just a twitch away from firing.

"I'll tell Dad about you if you don't give me the baby!" Blossom warned her misbehaving sister, turning cold. With her arm twisted, Buttercup walked over to Blossom and handed the baby over. Blossom carried it with both arms, tightly - afraid to drop it. She had seen pictures of babies and real ones out on the streets, but she had never held them before. It was then that she noticed that there were bruises on the baby's arms. Buttercup had held it too tightly. Regular adults and children were fragile enough - what more for babies? The sight of those injuries, though minor, had made Blossom mad again.

"Blossom- Sister- My sweet sister- Please don't tell Dad about me," Buttercup continued to plead, putting on a fake smile in an attempt to appeal to Blossom. "Have I ever told you I love you?"

"I'm still doing it," Blossom said her coldly, trying her best to keep her anger inside, no matter how difficult it was. Alice had warned her about it - how anger could do a lot of damage, especially with her enhanced abilities. She jumped down the hole in the attic after that and landed softly with a barely audible thump. Bubbles followed.

"But- you said! You promised not to tell!" Buttercup cried, following Blossom, pleading like a hungry or wounded puppy.

"Just like how you promised not to kill!?" Blossom exploded as she turned and yelled. The baby had started crying because of it.

"She- It wasn't as if- the woman- she tried to shoot me first! She shot me!" Buttercup tried again to lie her way out of the problem. Bubbles crossed her arms as she glared at Buttercup; even she had detected the half-baked lie immediately.

"You're a big, fat, stinking liar, Butter-mouth!" Blossom scolded, before resuming her walk down the manor hurriedly. It was far too obvious a lie that it was impossible to miss - she hadn't heard any gunshots from the attic while she was on the way there. The woman was on the floor long before she had caught Buttercup red-handed. It was obvious from her injuries.

"Blossom, please! I- I lost control too! I couldn't- sometimes I just get so mad-" Buttercup continued to plead with her leader sister as they descended the stairs down to the first floor. "I mean I wasn't mad- I was just- I was just playing- I mean-"

Blossom continued to ignore Buttercup even as she continued to plead and find excuses and appeal to her merciful side and their sisterhood and becoming more aggressive and desperate at every turn. She didn't stop even as they were met by Mister Mullens, who was nursing the graze wound on his arm. Stanley Talker, whom Blossom and Bubbles were glad was fine all along, was right beside him.

"That a baby in your arm?" Mullens asked rhetorically.

"We found it in the attic, Mister Mullens," Bubbles said. She was leaning on Blossom's shoulder, looking at the cute little thing. Talker got up on his hind legs by using Bubbles as support. Buttercup had kept quiet here for fear of revealing her secret to her police friends.

"Hrrr… a cute lil' pup ris rhat rit ris," the talking dog cooed with what amounted to a kind of doggy purr if there was such a thing. He soon got off Bubbles after taking a whiff of the surroundings. "Rrr… you srell funny, Rur-rles. Rhat did you get mixed rup rin?"

"Nothing, it's just blood," Bubbles claimed. It took her long to figure out what the talking dog meant. The moment she remembered that dogs had a good sense of smell, she realized that he might discover her dirty little secret with the fairy godmother's magic.

"Hrrr… That rakes sense," the talking dog spat out some saliva and said before padding away. "There's something rin re cultists' rlood that stinks…"

Bubbles' hand had gone up to her chest. She could feel her heart thumping as if she had sprinted across the entire breadth of Townsville. It was a close one. Too close. She took peeks at her sisters, afraid that they might put two and two together with what Stanley Talker had said, but they appeared more disgusted or confused than anything even remotely resembling suspicion.

"Could you take care of the baby, Mister Mullens?" Blossom continued on with the baby. "Its mother is dead and I don't think I can do it…" she glared at Buttercup while saying this.

"I'll take it," Mullens said. Bending low, he put out his arms and Blossom handed over the baby to him. He straightened out again, looking at the young little thing with a kind of warmth rarely ever seen in the hard-boiled detective's eyes. The blanket cocooning the baby was loose under Buttercup and Blossom's watch, so the detective wrapped it around tighter.

"It's sad…" Bubbles cried - the baby had distracted her from her own troubles. "Now she has no more mommy and daddy…" Bubbles would know, because she had cornered and killed the father, who was the leader of The Cult of His Arm, in the basement.

"Might be cold for me to say this, but… This might be for the best," the detective said. It wasn't just cold. It was rock-bottom absolute zero. "Those cultists wouldn't have made good parents to begin with."

"What's going to happen to her?" Blossom asked.

"She'll probably be put up for adoption. I hope the next pair of parents are better than the last," the detective said. "Good work, Girls. I'm glad the three of you aren't worse off today. Although… Bubbles, I think you need to tone it down a little. My fellow boys in blue reported too many dead. We need as many of them alive as we can. We need as many signed confessions and accounts as we can get. The more damning, the better."

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles simply said, holding her arm. Her wounds were starting to hurt again as the effects of His Secret 2.0 was starting to wear off.

"Still, that's some crazy stuff you just pulled. I'm glad you finally found your courage," the detective added. It'd hit Bubbles like a dump truck without him knowing it. She knew she didn't deserve the praise.

"I'm glad too…" Bubbles mumbled shyly, keeping her eyes away as she was afraid it'd tell him or anyone things she didn't want to let slip. Blossom put an encouraging arm around her shoulder, smiling, though even she knew that what had happened in the cult compound wasn't something to be entirely proud of. She thought that it was better than the alternative - to have Bubbles chicken out and cause everything to fall apart. In fact, the operation was nearly a failure had it not been for Bubbles' new power.

"Thanks to the three of you, we've hit the jackpot here. Their compound's full of this stuff," the detective added, before pulling out a syringe out of his pocket. It'd attracted Bubbles' attention immediately. It was a syringe of His Secret. "You know what this means? Fewer people are going to get jacked up with it. The three of you have done this town a favor. A big one."

But Bubbles was less than proud of it. She knew exactly where Mullens had gotten it from. It was from the basement, which was full of the drug. While she was dodging and taking bullets and Duranium blades in the basement, she'd taken the opportunity to 'borrow' a few syringes herself, secretly stuffing her pockets with them.

Buttercup was staring at the syringe in Mullens' hand too, secretly just as guilty of pilfering the crime scene of the drugs. There had been a few syringes in the attic that she took while she was in the middle of torturing the woman. She had collected about two dozen of those throughout her stint as an Angel of Justice - she had always treated them like trophies, just like how a raven would collect shiny things to build its nest with. While she knew nothing of what the drug could do, the syringe itself was shiny as it was made of metal, and it looked good.

"I'm just glad to help, Mister Mullens," Blossom said, ever the girl scout. The detective smiled at her sincerity and goodness.

"I'm sure you do. Now go home, get yourselves stitched up and crack open a soda or something, okay? I can see it now - soon, we'll see the Amoeba Boys in them zebra shirts pretty soon, and the three of you'll be free," the detective said.

At least, that was what Detective Mullens hoped. It was the least he could do for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. Once the Amoeba Boys were sent into the slammer, the Lombardi and their criminal enterprise would quickly fall apart without their protection and guidance. They would split into numerous factions, all keeping each other busy by squabbling over the remains of the Lombardi empire. The two hundred or so tiny gangs of Townsville would join in the chaos, and then it was a matter of picking them off one by one. Divide and conquer, as Julius Caesar used to say.

"I hope so…" Bubbles mumbled to herself. Dad had promised her the same thing too. All she had to do was to lie for a few more weeks to be free. But then a feeling of entrapment set in - in the back of her mind, she knew she wouldn't stop taking the fairy godmother's magic even if she didn't need it anymore.

Because it felt so good, and everything else paled in comparison to it. Even if she'd punched Blossom in the mouth.


	35. Chapter 30: Screens

**Chapter 30: Screens**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1721.**

"Blossom, please!" Buttercup had continued to beg for clemency just as the Girls had touched down on the lawn of their house. "It's not that I- It didn't happen that way- I was just doing it for us!"

Blossom, however, continued to ignore her as she strode up to the stone path to the front door of The House. The windows were lit up - it gave Blossom a feeling of warmth and homecoming, but to Buttercup, it was like a furnace that she would be thrown into. It was death inside, waiting for her. Bubbles followed, trying her best to ignore Buttercup's pleas. She felt sorry for Buttercup even though she had killed a woman for no reason and threatened to kill a helpless, innocent baby. They were sisters; sisters felt sorry for one another no matter what.

But it wasn't the first time Buttercup had gotten innocents killed. Through her negligence, Buttercup had failed to protect a whole group of civilians - men, women, and children all, during the Battle of Morbucks Industries Research Labs, deciding instead to bathe in blood, wading through a battle that wasn't even necessary, all the while ignoring a flanking force of Foundation terrorists who swiftly overran the few normal human defenders who knew better and killed the innocents. Bubbles couldn't bear to defend Buttercup, not after everything she had knowingly done wrong. Even if as her sister, she felt sorry for her.

"Blossom! Please! Don't tell Dad about me!" Buttercup pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks, tears that none of her siblings knew were real or faked. They had all caught her lying one time or another. Blossom herself hadn't forgotten how Buttercup had lied to Daddy about her just to look good. "We're sisters! I love you! It's not- I killed that woman because I love you!"

Blossom stopped at the front door, standing on the welcome mat as she took a dismissive glance at Buttercup. For a moment, both Buttercup and Bubbles thought that she was going to relent and help hide her secret.

"You were going to kill that baby, Buttercup," Blossom said impassively. "It's wrong to kill babies." With that, Blossom let herself hover and reached for the doorbell.

"YOU'RE NOT TELLING DAD ABOUT ME!" Buttercup exploded as she grabbed Blossom by both legs and pulled her down to the ground before she could ring the doorbell. With both hands, she lifted Blossom off her feet by her throat and slammed her against the door out of desperation and anger.

"Let- let me go…" Blossom struggled to speak, discovering too late, and shockingly, through the pressure in her neck, that Buttercup's hands had gone to her neck, and she was choking her. She had done it such that her eyes were out of the way and she couldn't see her, which meant that she could not use her thermal beam. Blossom tried to fly away, but after getting beaten and cut up so soundly in the last battle, she couldn't overpower Buttercup.

"Not until you promise not to tell!" Buttercup growled at Blossom even as her eyes were rolling up in pain and asphyxiation as she struggled. "I'll break your neck if I have to!"

"Leave her alone!" Bubbles shouted with equal fury before she tackled Buttercup, forcing her to let go of Blossom, who coughed and sputtered as she was clutching her throat and leaning against the wall.

On the ground, Buttercup was shocked by what she saw – Bubbles' pupils had gone glowing, hellish red and the look on her face was pure hatred. Before she could take a good look, Bubbles had swiped at her, making three long gashes in her cheek. And then it was all gone in a flash, and Bubbles seemed as shocked as she was that her BerXerker ability had come about out of the blue. So much so that Bubbles had crawled away, as if she was the victim.

The door opened after that.

"Tell me about what? Why are all of you on the ground?" Professor Utonium had appeared at the doorstep. Looking down at Bubbles and Buttercup, he could sort of put two and two together. Just his smile disappearing alone was enough to scare the Girls – they had all seen what he could become when he's really, truly mad. "What is so important that the three of you had to fight over it?"

"But we weren't fighting," Buttercup muttered, lied as she was wont to do so.

"We were just talking…" Bubbles, to the surprise of her sisters, came up with her own lie. Blossom stared at the both of them disapprovingly, a hand still rubbing a throat, which had developed a bruise from Buttercup's strangling.

Blossom had wanted to speak. Her mouth had moved, but words would not form. She wasn't even sure what to say to any of them, and when Selicia came out to put her arms around Professor Utonium from behind, leaning her head on him, it was completely silenced.

"Buttercup, you're bleeding!" Selicia gasped when she noticed the fingernail markings on Buttercup's cheek. She looked like she had been attacked by some feral animal that had been starved to near-death.

"It was from the farm, Mom," Buttercup lied when she exchanged looks with Bubbles, who still looked like she could tear her throat out from the way she was glaring at her. "The bad guys there had powers too." Buttercup had seen how Bubbles had torn out one of the cultists' throat with her teeth and drank some of the blood. She didn't want to be next.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1726.**

"What did she do?" Professor Utonium asked as he was helping Blossom to remove her ruined tactical gear, letting them drop onto the floor in a messy heap. The Girls had been brought down to the lab for medical treatment, and once separated from Mom and her sisters, Blossom had taken the opportunity to open up about Buttercup's evil deed.

"She did a really terrible thing, Dad," Blossom said as she unbuttoned her red uniform and as she winced in pain, pulled the top off. It was sticky with blood, and the fabric had fused painfully to her wound. She did the same with the singlet underneath, gasping at the surprisingly stinging sensation.

"All I know is those cultists really did a number on you," the professor said as he began examining Blossom's wounds as she sat down on a stool. There were multiple lacerations on her torso area - she had been hacked in the chest by a Duranium axe, cut in the side with a Duranium sword and slashed behind her back with something similar. Thankfully, none of the cuts was anything more than flesh wounds. The hands behind the attacks weren't strong enough to do damage to Blossom's internal organs.

"Buttercup's worse than any of them," Blossom claimed, finding that her eyes were wet once more. She still couldn't believe that Buttercup, a sister she was supposed to love, could be so cruel. To be violently ruthless to adult bad guys with guns was bad enough, but a mother and baby girl was too much by a mile.

"Don't say that. How terrible could she be?" the professor added, though he didn't say it with any confidence. It was something he'd said to delude himself, perhaps give himself a thin sliver of hope that things weren't as bad as he thought it could be. Alice's warnings were circling around his head like vultures by now. She'd long suspected Buttercup of some nefarious deeds, and in the professor's head, no matter how much he tried to push it away and have faith in his own parenting, she seemed to be coming dangerously close to being right.

"Dad, Buttercup killed a woman today," Blossom finally dropped the bomb on her Dad. He had been palpitating her chest to examine her for signs of fractures in the ribs, but he'd stopped and straightened up as he thought about what Blossom had said, tried to look at it from every possible angle, searching for one that could clear Buttercup of any wrongdoings.

"She was defending herself, right? From a woman who could've hurt her?" Professor Utonium asked, hoping, even though it was all but certain now that there was no hope.

"No, Dad. The woman looked harmless. She didn't have a weapon and she wasn't even wearing any real clothes," Blossom went on. The professor leaned on his desk, sighing. "She was in the attic with a baby. Buttercup tried to kill the baby too but I stopped her."

"She had to be kidding, right?" the professor croaked. The last sentence felt like a gut punch to the professor. His legs had gone so wobbly, he needed to sit down. Unable to breathe, he'd said nothing at first. He closed his eyes, trying to keep from freaking out and letting his anger take control - after all, he'd taught Blossom to do the same not too long ago.

"She pointed her gun at the baby and threatened to shoot it when I asked her to give it to me," Blossom added. "The baby was hurt because of her."

Taking a deep breath, the professor stood up, pushing aside roughly the medical ward screen giving them a degree of privacy (Blossom jumped at his violent reaction) and marched over to the other part of the lab where Selicia had been taking care of Buttercup and Bubbles.

"Thanks, Mom, it feels so much better…" Buttercup was almost squealing with joy after getting treated with some painkillers and having antiseptics applied to her wounds, both fresh and old. Selicia was just about to start cleaning her wounds when they saw Professor Utoniun coming up to them, swinging his arms as he walked as if he was about to punch someone.

Without a word, the professor grabbed Buttercup by the arm and started pulling her towards the stairs leading up.

"Ow! You're hurting me!" Buttercup protested. While her Dad was manhandling her, she had fallen off her stool and landed poorly on a knee. He was pulling at her roughly and it was aggravating her wounds. "Dad! Stop! Owwww!"

Afraid that her Dad was going to do something to her once she was out of everyone's sight, Buttercup pulled back at the foot of the stairs. Try as he might, the professor could never match her strength, but the tug of war was hurting Buttercup's wounds.

"Dad, it hurts!" Buttercup shouted. Frustrated, the professor did finally stopped. Picking her up, he plopped her down on the stairs instead.

"You tried to kill a baby!?" the professor yelled at Buttercup, who was still nursing her wounds, cupping the cut on her arm with a hand. "What is wrong with you!?"

"But- But- It's not like- I didn't kill the baby!" Buttercup stammered as she rushed through her words to try to defend herself. "I didn't!"

"Blossom said you tried to! She had to stop you!" the professor yelled at her again, not holding back on his anger at all. "And you killed an unarmed, helpless woman. Is that true too!?"

"N-no, I didn't," Buttercup lied, shaking a little from being shouted at, actually afraid that her Dad was going to hit her because that was how he looked like. When he didn't respond to her first lie, she tried a second: "She wasn't helpless. She tried to kill me. She nearly did."

"Stop lying to me, Buttercup! Blossom said you did!" the professor scolded.

"But Blossom's lying!" Buttercup alleged stubbornly. "It wasn't me!"

"And what if I ask Bubbles about it!? Or ring up Mullens to check on the details!?" the professor pressed on. "Lying makes it worse, Buttercup!"

Buttercup did not reply immediately as she was watching her Dad, afraid that he would come flying at her with an open palm with her name on it. She did not reply as a way to buy time to think of a way out.

"Well!?" the professor boomed so suddenly that Buttercup shook from how loud it was.

"Dad- I couldn't control myself- I was hurt and I was scared and-" Buttercup said. At the same time, she'd turned on the tap, and it was easy considering her wounds and the mess she was in and how she was getting sidelined by her sisters, much to her frustration - which meant that she had to slink around and hide her wrongdoings all the time. "I couldn't help myself."

"Blossom and Bubbles are more sensitive than you and yet they could," the professor countered coldly.

"The woman raised a pistol at me and I was hurt and- I hated the pain-" Buttercup cried, holding the wound on her arm, appearing vulnerable. "I was just so angry too- These people were hurting me all the time- and I couldn't control myself-" She let herself go out of control, breaking into a full-on sob, and it was unexpected even to her. "You don't understand how it's like, Dad! I- I just wanted the pain to stop!"

Blossom, Bubbles, and Selicia had been watching all the while. Blossom was hiding behind her screen and so was Bubbles. They looked at each other as though they were both in trouble too, and when Selicia looked at Blossom with an accusing frown on her face, Blossom returned into hiding behind her medical screen. She hadn't thought about Mom while she was tattling on Buttercup. It felt like it was the right thing to do, telling Dad about what Buttercup had done wrong. With or without Mom in the equation, she would have done it again.

"Buttercup, I didn't know you were this… affected," the professor said. Although he knew that Buttercup wasn't quite right in the head, to put it mildly, the way she looked while she was telling him about her bad experiences, the way she cried… got to him. It was impossible not to let it. It then clicked in him that psychopathy didn't remove emotions. It never did. Alice mentioned that it had reduced her emotional sensitivity, but not outright turn her into an unfeeling robot. While Buttercup couldn't empathize with others, she could be upset on her lonesome, which was kind of sad when the professor thought about it.

"I just want you to be proud of me, Dad," Buttercup claimed tearfully, though inside, she was absolutely jumping with joy. He'd fallen for it a hundred percent of the way. "You were always with Blossom and I- I thought that if I act tough and don't ever cry or talk about the pain…" Buttercup switched her crocodile tears factory on overdrive, unable to complete her sentence.

The professor moved to sit down on the steps next to Buttercup, putting his arm around Buttercup's bare shoulders, taking extra care not to touch her wounds.

"Buttercup, you know that I love you as much as Blossom, right?" the professor said - and he believed in what he said with all his heart. "You don't have to go out of your way to gain my attention. I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel that way."

'Yes, you have, Dad,' Buttercup thought bitterly as he'd said this, though she was careful not to let her thoughts spill into words. She'd never understood what love meant, and to her, it just meant attention, gifts, and favors. 'You sure have, and I fucking hate you for it, Dad.'

Blossom, in the meantime, had made extra precautions not to be detected by Selicia. She'd resorted to using her x-ray vision instead to see what was going on, no matter how tiring it was.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I really am…" Buttercup cried. Blossom zoomed in her vision to her face and thought that the performance she was putting up was infuriatingly convincing. She could even feel her heart going out for Buttercup, her own eyes getting wet upon looking at her cry even though she knew that Buttercup was faking it. "I couldn't control myself…"

"Hey... I hear you, Buttercup," the professor comforted Buttercup. Lifting her up, he put her on his leg and let her sit there as he held her. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. But you just have to learn some restraint from now on, okay? You were doing really well before- I guess I should have told you that I'm really proud of you, little Butterfly."


	36. Chapter 31: Mad and Mad

**Chapter 31: Mad and Mad**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1421.**

The next day had been uneventful. The professor had taken the opportunity to phone the Girls in sick, using the injuries they sustained the previous day as the reason for their need for a break, even though they were near full recovery and could perform regular duties well enough.

Selicia had continued training them. Buttercup had told her everything about Bubbles' new ability. She'd begged her to let her use it in training ever since, and Selicia couldn't refuse her favorite's request, not after what had happened yesterday. For all she knew, it could be her ticket to getting better results out of Bubbles just so that she could get General Blackwater off her back. She had to endure an hour of his bullshit during the last security review, and that had destroyed her mood that day – initially, she intended to be more forgiving towards Blossom, planning only to punish her with just a few shocks from her stun baton. But then the general had gone on from berating her about Bubbles to shouting at her about Blossom's regressive lack of tactics too. The thing that pissed her off the most was that it wasn't for a lack of trying. Selicia had given Blossom refresher courses on urban warfare in January and reminded her about it since, but Blossom continued to go the easy route - regressing into a child-like simplicity when it came to problem-solving instead of growing into the tactician she wanted her to become.

Allowing Bubbles to use her BerXerker ability could save her lots of future headaches. To this end, Selicia had decided to save Bubbles for dessert, since Buttercup had been jumping up and down about it constantly. Due to the Girls' tiredness and scars, she'd limited the number of matches to best out of five.

Blossom and Buttercup had sparred at first, after a quick refresher on both basic and advanced unarmed techniques. But while she was observing Bubbles throughout training, she saw nothing in her – just the same shy little girl bumbling about with moves, both strikes and grapples, that barely improved since more than a month ago. Even with her new ability, Selicia doubted then that Bubbles could even come close to defeating her favorite.

Blossom and Buttercup's matches wore on. As usual, Bubbles sat on the sidelines, perspiring as if she was sitting in a sauna or a furnace, terrified that she was going to disappoint Mom again. The last time she did, Mom had gone cold on her once more, refusing to even hold her or talk to her. Buttercup had made fun of her, and even Blossom was confused as to why she was so easily defeated in a friendly spar with her – and Bubbles could imagine that she would be wondering if she was going to ruin the next operation.

'What do I do?' Bubbles thought desperately as she stared at her sisters sparring, at how their moves were superb and smooth – and only a fraction of it was required in actual combat for them to hold their own. She herself, on the other hand, had nothing to show for it both in and out of crime-fighting. 'What am I going to do?'

Bubbles could feel her stomach churning uncomfortably at the thought, her guts going into a knot at the idea of repeating her failures and living with it.

"Good job! Oh my! Buttercup, you've done it!" Selicia praised her favorite when she finally floored Blossom by using her own tricks against her: hooking her leg and tripping her over, at the same twisting her arm around her back and locking it that way. Furthermore, it was the third time in a row that Buttercup had beaten Blossom when no one expected her to – Blossom had won the first two rounds. On the third round, Buttercup barely won by avoiding Blossom's grapple, before letting off a series of kicks that knocked Blossom down and stunned her, allowing her to be restrained after that. On the fourth round, Buttercup won by beating Blossom in an exchange of punches and parries. This was topped off by Buttercup beating Blossom at her own game.

"That was really good, Buttercup," Blossom praised her. She'd been trying to mend her relationship with her ever since the previous day to no success. They hadn't spoken much since, beyond 'pass the pepper'.

Buttercup merely scoffed at her. Had she had the vocabulary, she would have warned her not to patronize her.

"Buttercup…" Blossom said. "You know I had to tell Dad. He's our Dad."

"Whatever, sis," Buttercup brushed her off, not that she could ever understand the way Blossom rationalized her actions. But at least it felt good to beat Blossom at her own game - the satisfaction inherent in the idea was good motivation for Buttercup to attempt it where previously, she was content to hurl punches and kicks of all types and combinations.

"Blossom, enough talking. Take the bench," Selicia ordered dismissively before turning to Bubbles, who looked like she could fill a bathtub with her sweat alone. "Bubbles, you're up! Show me what this 'BerXerker' business is all about!"

Nervously, Bubbles flew haphazardly towards the makeshift arena in the lab. She could feel butterflies in her stomach - just as much as she could already feel the 'Butterfly's punch in her stomach. She needed it! Needed it so much! There was no way she could stomach being the team let-down, the butt of all jokes any longer. Not when there was an answer to her problem, a desirable one at that.

"Mom, I need to go!" Bubbles lied, putting her hands on her groin (or her groin guard) to pretend as though her bladder was full. It was easier to lie this time - she was so nervous and afraid and paranoid that she had been visiting the washroom more often than usual for the past few days. "Please?"

"Of all the- Fine! Get it done quickly and come back down here ASAP!" Selicia growled impatiently - just thinking about how much of a failure Bubbles was in the arena of combat made her mad. No matter how much she sympathized with Bubbles as a vulnerable little girl, she saw her as anything but; she had what were literally superpowers at her disposal - how vulnerable could she be? In January it was all well and good because there was little need to fight beyond engaging a smattering of small-time crooks. She'd hoped that Bubbles would rise to the occasion to defend the peace she had enjoyed for over a month - only to be severely and utterly disappointed.

Bubbles literally flew out of the labs at breakneck speed the moment her Mom gave her permission and shook her head in disapproval. After cycling the airlock, she flew straight up to the second floor and into her favorite washroom - the one near her room. True to her word, she'd pulled down her pants and underwear and sat down on the toilet the moment she was in.

But it was all just a cover for something she knew she had to do. Quivering with excitement as she relieved herself, she reached into one of her magazine pouches to find - nothing!

'Where is it!?' she thought frantically. Her second dose of His Secret 2.0 was supposed to be in her magazine pouch! 'No no no no no! I couldn't have lost it! I couldn't have!' The mere idea that she had lost her only syringe left was unbearable - it was like having a hive of bees in her head. A headache was coming on as pressure mounted.

With sweat pouring down her face, Bubbles finished relieving herself as quickly as she could before pulling up her pants again, forgetting to use a napkin to clean herself as she redid her zips and belt and flew out of the washroom and into the Girls' room.

She would search everywhere for it - under the bed, in the drawers of her personal wardrobe, in her mountain of soft toys. She couldn't seem to find it anywhere! Standing on the pink kiddy table, her eyes darted all over the room as she feverishly tried to backtrack and remember where she had put her second dose of magic.

She needed it. Needed it so badly. So much that it was painful. To live without it was terrifying. What would she say to Mom and Buttercup?

With a terrified sob, Bubbles began searching whatever nook and cranny she had missed earlier - her nightlight, whatever openings there were in her dolls, under Octi, behind Octi, around Octi - it felt as if she could die from the nail-biting experience - until she felt it in the back of her baby blue pillow.

'Yes! Yes! Thank goodness! Thank God!' Bubbles thought gleefully as she pulled it out of the pillow. Pushing her Kevlar arm guard lower so she could get a good view of a vein, Bubbles jabbed herself with the syringe greedily and depressed the plunger - it was the third time she had done this, and she was becoming very adept at doping herself with drugs where previously, she struggled to self-medicate.

The sensation was legendary. It was like taking a cool bath after walking in a desert for days or spending a month in Xanadu after a year in hell. Where previously, it felt as if her guts were like snakes writhing about in her body, it was as if liquid serenity and bliss had filled her belly.

Bubbles lay down as pure pleasure began to spread throughout her body, through her veins - by now, she was used to the stinging pain of the fluid circulating in her bloodstreams, masked by the height of the chemical happiness she had pumped herself with. She began laughing as she curled up into a fetal position, biting her pillow as she gasped with each twinge of excitement and pleasure running through her from head to toe, gripping the blanket as she shut her eyes tightly, enjoying every second of it until…

Opening her eyes, Bubbles remembered, barely, why she had taken the fairy godmother's magic, to begin with. Going back to the vanity, she stared at herself in the mirror and saw that her pupils were glowing hellish red as opposed to baby blue and she liked it. A wicked grin spread across her face as she thought about the things she would do to Buttercup for being a bad sister and making her life difficult.

With murder on her mind, Bubbles flew to the door, opened it roughly with a loud slam and flew back down to the lab. Where previously, she'd admired Buttercup and even feared her for her battle prowess and accomplishments, all she saw in her mind now might as well just be a moving target, to be shot to pieces, blown to bits, run through, torn apart, rend to shreds, beaten to a pulp and slashed thoroughly.

"Bubbles! What took you! We have to…" Selicia bellowed the moment she saw Bubbles. She didn't see her red eyes immediately, but when she did, it'd taken the words out of her mouth.

Buttercup simply smiled at her reborn sister, who she thought would be more of a challenge. She hadn't faced Bubbles for quite some time, mainly because she was a walkover, and when she did, she found her far too easy - boring with a capital B to fight with as she couldn't even put up much of a fight that it was surprising she could beat regular people in combat. During the Battle in the Cult Of His Arm Compound, she had hardly seen Bubbles in action because she was too busy fighting – she was hoping to see more of it now.

Bubbles landed right before Buttercup, her malicious smile still strong on her face, her glowing, doom eyes drilling into Buttercup's cold green eyes. The look of it actually unnerved Buttercup, and the toughest fighter of The Three had stopped smiling. Uncrossing her arms, she got into a defensive posture.

"Are we fighting now, Mom!?" Bubbles barked madly at Selicia as she giggled uncontrollably. "Are we!? I wanna fight badly!"

"Go right ahead, Bubbles, Buttercup," Selicia gave them the go-ahead, even though her confidence at refereeing the sparring match had waned with the way Bubbles looked and behaved. Buttercup's description did not do Bubbles' BerXerker look any justice. Bubbles was the poster child of the sweet, innocent perfect little girl look. Now, she looked like something from a horror movie. Even the most bloodthirsty security officer she knew would be appalled by Bubbles, whose eyes screamed bloody, gory murder, her face contorted in fury with saliva and foam dribbling down her mouth. The madness and hatred in her face were unnatural on a face so young.

Bubbles had jumped on Buttercup the moment her Mom flagged off the fight - in fact, she'd been losing patience within seconds that she would have done so with or without her permission.

Sprinting towards Buttercup, Bubbles started with a series of punches, which Buttercup dodged. Buttercup retaliated as she ducked by punching Bubbles in the stomach twice before getting the knee, which she was able to block with both her hands, but the force of the blow had sent her flying back. She landed on a knee and had to balance herself by planting a hand on the ground.

Her punches had done nothing. Bubbles was merely laughing it off brokenly as she watched her fly backward from her force. Buttercup's hands shook from the force of the blow. Even blocking Bubbles' attacks was painful.

"What's the matter, Buttercup!?" Bubbles sneered at Buttercup, spittle coming out of her mouth. "Aren't you better at fighting than me!? Aren't you hard-core!?"

"Oh, I sure am! More than you!" Buttercup replied and responded by running up to her and doing a spinning kick. Bubbles punched Buttercup in the leg, deflecting her. Buttercup landed roughly, nearly losing balance. She'd felt the punch right down to the bone. Her leg felt broken, though it wasn't really.

Bubbles didn't give her time to recover, but it wasn't out of a sense of tactics. All she smelled was blood, and in the absence of any other targets, Buttercup was the one to provide it.

Blossom had been watching from the sidelines, and she had gone rock-hard tense, gripping her towel tightly almost to the point of tearing it. To witness her sweetest sister acting this way was troubling. Professor Utonium, her father, had joined her on the bench, having been distracted from his work by this chance to observe Bubbles' new power.

And he didn't like it one bit. He thought it'd turned Bubbles into… something else. Putting an arm around Blossom as she leaned on him, he watched, almost with morbid curiosity, but he was just as tense and ready to intervene the moment anything went wrong. In a way, he knew that something was bound to go wrong.

Bubbles had begun pushing back aggressively, aiming punches and kicks at Buttercup, which Buttercup equaled with blocks using her arms and legs. But Bubbles, with all her restraint removed, was blindingly fast. Once in a while, her attacks - mostly punches – had slipped past Buttercup's textbook-perfect blocks and parries, jabbing at Buttercup, weakening her with every successful strike. Her eyes grew more and more terrifying to Buttercup with each blow, even though it never changed in appearance beyond blue to red, meek and weak to mad and mad. She was like a shark tearing at its prey, or a swarm of piranhas in the shape of a little girl, slowly devouring her.

Buttercup was slower, and her advantage in raw strength and brutality was all but negated by Bubbles' drug-enhanced endurance and lack of pain. She'd aimed two punches to her face, but Bubbles sweated them off as if they were paper balls. She gave her a side-kick in the stomach when there was an opening, but it looked as if Bubbles didn't even notice. The toughest of The Three remembered Naga, how she'd done the same thing, and panic arose in her when she realized she was going to end up like her.

The match was furious and ultimately one-sided. Buttercup was steadily getting tired and weaker while Bubbles showed no sign of stopping or tiring. When Buttercup went all in and aimed a double fist at Bubbles, Bubbles parried her arms aside and delivered a series of machine-gun punches in Buttercup's chest - putting a dozen or more blows in her within a few seconds, if even that. Winding up a harder punch, Bubbles sent Buttercup flying across the makeshift lab arena, and the latter little girl landed head-first, defeated.

Selicia gasped, and so did Blossom and Professor Utonium. Buttercup was bleeding from the mouth - Bubbles wasn't holding back at all. She was writhing on the ground, holding her mouth as blood dribbled past her hand, down her chin and in between fingers.

"Bubbles, what the hell!" Selicia screamed angrily at Bubbles. "You weren't supposed to hit that hard!"

"You didn't stop Blossom when she was hurting me!" Bubbles screeched as she stomped menacingly towards Buttercup, who crawled on her back, her eyes misting as she was in shock.

"Don't you mouth off at me! Take a seat!" Selicia shouted. Bubbles didn't listen. Instead, she'd kicked Buttercup in the head. "Bubbles, stop!"

But Bubbles didn't obey this time. Selicia's voice had gone unheard. It didn't even register as Bubbles knelt over Buttercup and took her by the collar.

"Bubbles, I'm serious, stop!" Selicia ordered again. She could feel her hair standing on ends as she realized, with horror, that Bubbles wasn't going to stop, and certainly wasn't just aiming to just intimidate Buttercup. "Stop! STOP! BUBBLES!"

She began punching Buttercup repeatedly in the face. Professor Utonium jumped out of his seat. Blossom hovered.

"Bubbles! What are you doing!" the professor shouted in horror at the unnatural behavior of his sweetest adopted daughter.

Selicia pulled her pistol out – she'd always carried it whenever she was in uniform. Blossom, however, flew up to her and got between her and Bubbles.

"Mom, no! She'll hurt you if you shoot her!" Blossom said before turning around in mid-air and flying into Bubbles, knocking her off of Buttercup. They both skidded on the shiny tiled lab floor, with Bubbles a greater distance away.

Blossom was rolling on the ground as she skidded but she righted herself quite easily with a bit of Chemical X-aided gymnastics. Bubbles was less graceful in her senseless fury, and only got up when she came to a stop.

In the meantime, Selicia took the opportunity to drag Buttercup, who was crying in pain, as far away from Bubbles as possible. The professor had sprinted in Buttercup's aid, and as Selicia was holding her, began examining her facial injuries.

"It's okay, Buttercup, you're safe now – she's not going to hurt you again…" Selicia comforted Buttercup as, for once, she was acting her age and bawling her eyes out.

"Buttercup, get your hands off-" the professor was struggling with her as he was trying to check her wounds. Buttercup had always had this habit of hiding her wounds whenever she was injured, starting from the first time she was shot because she was playing with his pistol, which she picked up from the lab.

There was blood everywhere.

"Buttercup, please!" the professor pleaded with Buttercup to let him see her face. Any effort he made to pry her hands off her mouth and nose was futile. But the reality of what Bubbles had done was apparent even with Buttercup's hands stuck to her face. There were bruises and open skin all over her face. She had a black eye, and just by observation alone, probably one or two stress fractures around the Orbit region of her skull.

Bubbles rushed Blossom as soon as she could, which was immediate. Blossom was forced to fire an infrared beam at Bubbles, causing her vest to burst into flames. It didn't stop Bubbles from throwing punches at her, but Blossom ducked and dodged and even flew out of the way. Smoke was rising from Bubbles all the while as her uniform continued to burn until she was coughing and retching from it – until she tore vest away, along with the singlet underneath.

"Get out of the way, Blossom!" Bubbles screeched crazily at her sister. She looked the part too, with half her face covered in Buttercup's blood. "Or I'll hurt you just like Buttercup!"

"What is wrong with you, Bubbles!" Blossom cried. "Why are you being like this!?"

"Why are you protecting Buttercup, Blossom!?" Bubbles screamed. "She's always hurting us!"

"Because she's our sister! Because I love her!" Blossom answered. "Please… You're my sister too! And so is Buttercup! You need to stop this!"

Bubbles clutched her head as though there was a great struggle going on inside. She whimpered as she shook her head.

"It's… so hard, Blossom," Bubbles cried, her expression changing to one of being upset, before it swung back around to being one of anger and hatred once more, broken by occasional mad giggles. "Buttercup should be hurt for WHAT SHE DID!"

"Bubbles," Professor Utonium came up beside Blossom. "I don't know what's going on with you, but listen to me – calm down."

"Get out of the way, DAD! I don't want to hurt you!" Bubbles screamed madly at her Dad. She looked so unhinged that Blossom had flown in front of the professor at chest level, just in case Bubbles lose control again.

"So don't, Bubbles," the professor said. He inched his way forward and around Blossom, shrugging off Blossom's hand and wordlessly telling the smartest of The Three that he would be fine. "You're in control, Bubbles. You love us – you won't hurt us."

Bubbles glared at the professor, then to Buttercup, who was still lying in a kneeling Selicia's lap, blood making rivulets down her cheeks and chin. She returned her eyes to the professor, who had gotten a bit closer, the look on her face swinging frequently between a glare and a tearful, needy gaze.

"I've hurt Buttercup…" Bubbles cried, at first regretful, before becoming hateful again. "I've hurt her – and I want to hurt her more!"

"No, you don't," the professor said. He was even closer now, just a few arm's lengths away. "She's your sister. She's rough but the two of you've shared some good moments. Remember how she comforted you around Christmas?"

"I've hurt her – I want to hurt her. She'd hurt me!" Bubbles continued to repeat herself as she panted and hyperventilated. The professor made his way closer, making no sudden moves. Blossom and Selicia looked on, dead worried and actually expecting the head of the household to get his head chopped. "Blood! I want blood!"

"Bubbles, look at me," the professor said as he got way closer, almost within arm's reach of Bubbles. Bubbles' hellish red eyes flitted to him as her face twitched with uncontrollable rage and pleasure. "This is not you."

"Stay away from me, Dad, I'll kill you!" Bubbles yelled at the professor, who actually shrank away from her, startled, but he didn't stay away from long.

"No, you won't," the professor asserted as he came within arm's reach of Bubbles and bent down. "Come here."

"No, Dad! I'll kill you!" Bubbles snarled. But the professor did the opposite and scooped her up into a hug, carrying her as he straightened up, and as he did, Bubbles broke into a sob. She grabbed at his lab coat as she cried into it. "I'm so sorry Dad… I'm so sorry… I lost control!"

"Shh… Shh… It's fine," the professor said. "I knew you wouldn't do it. You're my Bubbles, you've always been my little girl. You'll always be my little girl."

The professor looked into her eyes, and Bubbles looked back. Her eyes were red, but right before the professor, it'd returned to baby blue.


	37. Chapter 32: Mommy Fearest

**Chapter 32: Mommy Fearest**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**13 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1848.**

Bubbles had been watching Buttercup closely in the Girls' room. After getting their stitches and after the altercation in the labs that happened after Blossom tattled on Buttercup and told Dad about the latter Girl's sideshow, Bubbles was suspecting her of anything and everything.

And so when Buttercup spent far too much time in the walk-in closet and left it looking the same as before, Bubbles couldn't help but start guessing what Buttercup could be doing inside the walk-in closet.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1712.**

After Bubbles' horrible accident with her BerXerker power, the professor had been examining her ever since, taking blood samples and doing brain scans. He couldn't find anything out of the ordinary, other than a slight change in brain activity and increase in certain hormones such as dopamine, testosterone, and adrenaline, which he ruled out as side effects of the new ability and the result of it. His working theory was that the BerXerker power was the use of Chemical X to rewire the brain to decrease pain reception, lower inhibition and increase aggression. While not as flashy as Blossom's infrared beam and Buttercup's laser vision, it was no less devastating.

He believed that Bubbles was just trying to get used to her new power. Blossom and Buttercup had both lost control of their powers when they were first discovered. Blossom had hurt Buttercup when she first discovered flight. She had also accidentally burned him when she first discovered her infrared beam. Buttercup had injured Naga when she first discovered her laser vision. Professor Utonium believed that it was no different with Bubbles, and her ability could be controlled with time and practice. The Girls were a hazard not by choice - it wasn't their fault - the unpredictable emergence of their powers was the root cause of all these unfortunate accidents.

He couldn't blame the Girls for the accidents they caused. Especially Bubbles - who would never hurt a fly in any other circumstances.

Later that day, Selicia had gathered the Girls in the living room. This included Buttercup, whose injuries had turned out to be relatively superficial, even if severely so and resulted in a lot of bleeding. The worse of it was the stress fracture around the orbit region of her left eye, which would heal on its own within a day. The woman had a dustpan and broom in one hand, and rags in another. Buttercup looked up at her with a face covered in plasters and gauze and medical tape.

"The three of you will clean the garage," she announced their punishment coldly.

"But why?" Blossom asked.

"Do I have to spell everything out for the three of you?" Selicia snarled at them. The Girls' eyes were turned ground-wards the moment she said it. Selicia didn't need to explain it – each of the Girls knew they were guilty of something, both real and imagined. With Blossom, it was very much imagined, but she believed that it was punishment for getting her sisters injured and telling on Buttercup, effectively betraying her in Selicia's eyes. Bubbles thought she was being punished for going out of control. Buttercup believed that she was being punished for threatening the life of a baby, and actually ending the life of a woman – though she didn't think that she had done anything wrong.

"Yes, Mom…" they said in unison. Blossom took the broom and dustpan while Bubbles and Buttercup each got a rag. With that, they made towards the garage to clean it up.

"Blossom, wait. Stay a moment," Selicia ordered her but both Bubbles and Buttercup stopped and turned as well. "Get going, the two of you." Bubbles and Buttercup disappeared into the garage, Bubbles hesitantly, believing that Blossom was going to get into more trouble than them.

Blossom reluctantly walked up to her Mom, the broom and dustpan, which were taller than her, in her hands.

"Can you hover so I can take a good look at your face?" Selicia ordered again. Blossom put her cleaning instruments down on the floor and did as she was told. She could feel her heart thumping like it was going to rip itself out of her chest. Mom didn't look pleased, and when she reached out for Blossom's face, she flinched, afraid that she was going to hit her again. But it didn't happen. Instead, she was inspecting the stitches on her forehead. Next thing she knew, she was caressing her face lovingly.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me out with Bubbles," Mom said. "For saving Buttercup."

"She's my sister. They both are," Blossom said, unable to look her Mom in the eyes for fear of offending her somehow. All she could do was to steal glances of her eyes, which Mom noticed anyway.

"And you better remember that, and keep Bubbles under control," Selicia said, perhaps redundantly so - but she knew the truth behind the Girls as their assigned handler. They weren't biologically sisters, and neither was she her biological mother. Selicia thought that perhaps instinctively, Blossom knew that and so it was prudent to remind her. "Now get going and clean up my garage."

Blossom took her leave, but before she disappeared into the garage, she turned around again. "Mom?"

"What is it now?" Selicia said impatiently. To her, Blossom was like a dog - give her a little encouragement, and she'd latch on forever. And then it would be a slippery slope from there. She'd start getting sloppy, take advantage of her love, and shit all over her. It'd all happened before, and Buttercup had suffered for it. There was no way in hell Selicia would let that happen again.

"Will things go back to how it was?" Blossom asked, and dared herself to look Mom in the eye - and at that moment, she found that she still loved her Mom, for everything she had done for her - teaching her everything she knew about fighting hand-to-hand and with firearms and tactics, and things were pretty good between them in January. "I want to hear your stories again, and read books with you in the library."

Selicia stared at her coldly, so much so that Blossom couldn't bear to make eye contact with her anymore.

"We'll see," the Mom said. No, this would not do at all.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1731.**

While they were in the middle of the cleaning, however, Selicia had pulled Buttercup aside for milk and cookies. Blossom and Bubbles were left behind, and even when they were done with the garage, Selicia had punished them further by getting them to clean the corridor on the second floor. Buttercup, of course, was excused from this. It wouldn't have been so bad, had this trend not continued into the attic, and when they were done and back on the second floor, Selicia did not like the look on their faces and proceeded to knock down a vase and painting and blaming them for it. She then ordered them to clean up the broken glass.

"Dad, Mom is being mean to us!" Blossom complained to her Dad when she decided that things weren't fair. Buttercup had killed and threatened to kill the innocent, and yet she was being punished far less than her and Bubbles. And she'd let the professor know exactly what she thought.

"Oh, Thomas!" Selicia had faked being dainty when she found herself accused of being unfair and abusive. "Look at them – it's such hard work, raising daughters with principles when they're disobeying me at every turn!" She'd made herself look more vulnerable by leaning against the banister of the second-floor corridor as if she had lost most of her strength.

"But you're being selfish! You're a big, fat liar!" Bubbles shouted out of the blue. Even she did not know where it'd come from. Selicia's response to this was to run to the professor for a hug.

"Bubbles!" the professor chided as Selicia was crying in his arms.

"I just want them to be strong and independent and…" Selicia continued to lie. "I know I'm not supposed to expect anything out of the Girls, not even gratefulness…"

"Girls, your mother is just looking out for you!" the professor continued to reprimand the Girls. "And you're treating her like she's the enemy!"

"They just started throwing a tantrum and- look at the mess they made-" Selicia lied, further angering the professor.

"But-" Blossom tried to explain things, only to be interrupted.

"Go to your room, Blossom," the professor ordered, stabbing his finger in the direction of their room. "You too, Bubbles!" With that, the professor brought his 'wife' into his room. She seemed so upset that she could barely walk. Without the professor knowing, she had turned to look at the Girls with a victorious smile. The Girls were taken aback by this. Bubbles was wiping away errant tears from being misunderstood. Blossom wasn't far behind.

Upset, Blossom and Bubbles hovered into their rooms with their backs hunched.

"Why did you have to shout at Mom, Bubbles?" Blossom asked as she stood before Bubbles, who was sitting on the edge of their bed, herself mad at her. "You made us look bad!"

"I couldn't help myself…" Bubbles said. "I'm sorry…"

"What's happening to you, Bubbles?" Blossom asked, more concerned than mad. Bubbles kept quiet, though unsure if she should remain quiet. She didn't want her secret to be found out, and yet at the same time, she knew that something was wrong. She could feel herself changing; it was so much harder to keep her anger inside now.

"I'm sorry," Bubbles simply said. Blossom gave her a quizzical look, unsure of what to make of her sister's response.

"Does it have something to do with your new power?" Blossom asked. Bubbles considered her question carefully, where before, she would have answered it thoughtlessly.

Bubbles nodded, deciding that it wouldn't reveal her dirty little secret.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 2045.**

Ever since the incident with Selicia, the professor had enforced Blossom and Bubbles' grounding throughout the entire day. By the evening, however, he was beginning to feel bad about what he'd done. Sure, the Girls had been rude to Selicia, with Blossom talking back when she didn't need to and Bubbles shouting at her, but they were little girls, after all, who needed adult guidance.

In fact, he thought that he had been too harsh, grounding them for an entire day right after Selicia's house chores. He was self-aware enough to know that his love for Selicia had blinded him to the severity of his punishment. Ever since falling in love with Selicia – genuinely – she had that effect on him. He knew that he himself had to make amends for it, and to this end, he'd made them hot chocolate with marshmallows and cookies. He'd brought supper up to the Girls himself.

When he entered the Girls' room, Blossom was reading a kid's encyclopedia while sitting in a beanbag, not out of curiosity or the need to know, but as a diversion from her unjust grounding and Bubbles' problem. Bubbles, on the other hand, was lying in bed in a fetal position, holding Octi closely, mumbling to herself. Buttercup was missing in the room. Selicia had made sure that she stayed away. They had been watching the television in the living room ever since, their laughter sometimes loud enough for Blossom and Bubbles to hear as if to spite them further.

"Girls, I've brought supper," the professor announced to his adopted daughters. He set it down on the Girls' kiddy table. Blossom put down her encyclopedia and came over to sit down, unable to look at her own father. The professor found that he could never get used to it. Where had last month gone? There was never a need to lecture his Girls nor punish them before crime started spiking again. "Bubbles?"

"I don't feel like eating…" Bubbles muttered, before going back to whispering to herself again. Ever since calming down from her third dose of His Secret 2.0, she had been feeling terrible. While she was under its influence, she had no fear, no worries, and no pain. Without it, she couldn't help but be frightened of everything - even her sisters, her Dad, and Mom - and she couldn't help but feel insecure, as if her secret was just a word or action away from being exposed. She hadn't felt hungry at all since lunch - she had eaten little during dinner and she wasn't lying about her appetite during supper. It felt as if her insides were rearranging itself, and it was as uncomfortable and painful as it sounded.

"Bubbles? I know you feel bad about what you did, but you don't have to starve yourself," the professor assumed. Coming up to her, he lifted her up into a sitting position. Sweat was pouring down her face. She looked pale. "Goodness… Are you ill?"

"No… You're right, Dad. I just feel really bad about what I did. I didn't mean to hurt Buttercup and shout at Mom," Bubbles said, not entirely lying. "I'm sorry…"

"Maybe some chocolate and marshmallows might help?" the professor suggested. Bubbles smiled. Through the hardship she was suffering through, she knew that her Dad was always someone she could trust in every way - to do the right thing and make her feel better. She hovered towards the kiddy table and sat herself down beside Blossom. The professor followed.

"Dad, why does Buttercup get to do whatever she wants even though she's wrong?" Blossom asked while taking a nibble out of her cookie.

"That's not it, Blossom. She doesn't get to do whatever she wants," the professor said. "I know how it looks like, but that's not what it is."

"What she did was terrible, and Mom did nothing about it," Blossom added further. "She punishes us for everything."

The professor considered her words. He knew exactly why there was a disparity in Selicia's response to the different Girls, or at least he thought so. He certainly knew that he was treating the Girls differently - according to what they needed. But he loved them equally, or did he? Buttercup was a special case - he would certainly let her know what she had done wrong – in fact, he would certainly really let her know what she had done wrong. But her condition had ensured that the tomboy would never fully understand the consequences of her actions such that she had to decide what to do based on cold logic alone, and when that cold logic involved pleasure from behavior with moral implications lost on her...

'Should I tell them?' the professor thought. He had been keeping too many secrets from the Girls for too long. There wasn't a single day that went by without him thinking about his secrets. 'Should I?'

"Blossom, Bubbles, I need the two of you to listen to me," the professor said, and found that he couldn't breathe. He had to sit down on a kiddy stool and work up the courage to continue. "You see, Girls, Buttercup… She's not like the two of you."

"What do you mean?" Bubbles asked.

"She's, well, not right in the head. Remember what I told you two about sickness?" the professor struggled to find an analogy that a young child could understand. "Remember when the three of you got sick after chasing those crooks on the highway?"

"Yes…" the Girls said in unison.

"Well, that's Buttercup inside. She's just… messed up," the professor said - there was no other way of saying it at that given moment. Undignified and ugly as it sounded, it was the truth. "She doesn't know what's right and what's wrong because she's sick inside. She couldn't feel as much as the two of you because of it."

"But when was she sick?" Bubbles asked.

"Since the beginning, when she was born," the professor said, careful not to let slip the other secrets. He'd nearly mentioned 'created' instead. With the Girls' photographic memory, a mere mention of that word would have become a time bomb waiting to explode.

"Does that mean she doesn't love us?" Blossom asked, looking incredibly upset. She'd stopped eating. The professor was caught off-guard by that question. Blossom was incredibly smart - perhaps even smarter than he was - just that she was really young. He thought that it was just as much a curse as it was a blessing. He knew that from personal experience. "She never did, did she?"

"Oh, honey, I…" the professor struggled to find the appropriate response, deciding between the whole truth, the half or the lie. But he'd been keeping so many secrets, and it was killing him little by little each day. Each day she looked at his Girls, smiling innocently and naively believing him to be perfect, he felt that he had lost a bit of himself. It was like getting cut up into a million pieces.

"No, she never really did," the professor said. No more new secrets - he had decided. "But it's not her fault and… It's not entirely hopeless. You see, there's a connection between the three of you. Blossom, Bubbles… Buttercup does not - could not - feel the same way as the two of you, which is why the two of you need to love her more. She'll come around and understand."

It was a simplistic way of explaining things, and the only way the Girls would understand. Throwing psychiatric and scientific terms at them would be useless, that much he knew.

What the professor did not know, however, was that Buttercup had been listening all along, ever since she saw him walking towards the Girls' room from the living room. With her acute sense of hearing, she could listen in on them even from the washroom down the corridor from the Girls' room, where she had been 'using the toilet' since a few minutes ago, according to the lie she told her Mom.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 2243.**

Bubbles had shut herself in the washroom so the others wouldn't see. She was in her pajamas. There were spots of perspiration on it even though the washroom was colder than other rooms – the heater couldn't reach it as well as the other rooms.

Hovering in front of the mirror, she saw that she was sweating profusely, and it wasn't because she was terrified of being found out. Instinctively, she knew that it was the drug's fault. Without it, she was a mess, and the more she used it, the more she grew to become dependent on it. It'd made her desire the magic more – the symptoms were pushing her, and the addictive attraction of the magic was pulling her deeper into it.

Her Dad's words had stuck with her ever since. Although it was a revelation of Buttercup's severe psychopathy, she couldn't help but think that it had something to do with her as well. Buttercup was sick inside, and she couldn't help but feel that she was sick inside too. And she couldn't stop it. She didn't want to.

Turning on the faucet, she splashed some water on her face, washing it before drying herself. After that, she picked up the syringe she'd left on the washing basin. She found it surprising that she was any good at it – smuggling the syringe from her gear into the washroom while her sisters were in bed. But she'd put it down to the dim lighting as only a table lamp was switched on and Blossom and Buttercup weren't looking at her.

Bubbles stared at the syringe. 'His Secret' was written on the metal tube. There was no '2.0' for some reason. Unsheathing the needle and after she palpitated her arm for a vein, she jabbed herself with it, only for the needle to bend then snap in two. It wasn't made for her. It wasn't Duranium.

The little addict started breathing heavily. She needed it and badly. Desperate, she inserted the broken syringe into her mouth and depressed the plunger, swallowing the chemical mixture thirstily like a girl in a desert who'd encountered water for the first time in days.

The taste was terrible. Bitter, acidic and foul. Wrong. Then Bubbles just stood there, waiting for the effects to kick in… but it wouldn't. She continued waiting expectantly, but as minutes passed, all she could feel was a tingle in her fingertips. There was barely anything at all – her stomach had stopped hurting – mostly, and she was sweating less, but that was about it.

As it turned out, the drug she had stolen from the cult's compound was different. Weaker. And it certainly wasn't enough.

Bubbles felt panic rising in her as a result. What she stole from the cult was supposed to be her next fix. She needed more. More!

And yet she knew there was no more. Bubbles clutched her head, pulling at her hair. It felt as if the fairy godmother had abandoned her, in this dire time of need.

"Bubbles?" a muffled voice came from the other side of the door. It was Blossom. Shock surged through Bubbles when she realized that she was holding incriminating evidence of her drug addiction in her hands. Looking all over the washroom, she searched the place for a good spot to hide her shame and wrongdoing. "What's taking you so long? You need to sleep or it'd be hard to study in school tomorrow."

Every time Bubbles thought she had found the perfect place to hide her syringe, she could think of how Blossom could find it – in what scenario and circumstance.

"Bubbles? Are you okay?" Blossom was knocking on the door harder, sounding more urgent and afraid. But at least she didn't sound angry or upset. "Bubbles!"

After hiding her syringe in a drawer, Bubbles rushed to open the door. Blossom sounded like she was going to knock the door down. She didn't need her entire family in the washroom. The chance of them finding her secret would be too great.

"I'm sorry, Blossom," Bubbles apologized after opening the door. "I was just tired…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 2359.**

Bubbles hadn't been able to sleep, as she couldn't decide between whether she felt hot or cold. What little drinking the syringe of His Secret had achieved had all been reversed by time. She was sweating again, and she could feel her hands convulsing and her insides churning.

At that point, she was all but convinced that the fairy godmother was done with her, and she would be stuck feeling this way for the rest of her life. She'd believed this until she saw white light under her door again. Switching off the table lamp beside her, Bubbles hovered out of bed and got out of her room – she didn't look back at all, not like last time.

Same as before, when she was at the corridor outside her room, the same white light had migrated to the stairs. Passing by Dad's room, however, she couldn't help but wonder if she should stay with Daddy after all. She'd do that all the time whenever she was feeling terrible.

But this time, she knew that the terrible feeling in her wouldn't go away until she injected herself with more of the fairy godmother's magic. It was the only way. Besides, Buttercup had occupied Dad's room. She had utterly refused to sleep in the same room as her because of what she did.

With nothing left for her, she flew down to ground level. There, she saw the white light outside, same place as before: in the backyard.

And so she followed.

"Hello again, Bubbles," the fairy godmother greeted her the moment she came close, and this time, she'd come really close really fast as she was in desperate need of more substance.

"Miss Fairy Godmother!" Bubbles whispered urgently, still afraid of talking too loudly and being discovered with the fairy godmother. "I need more of it, please! I need it!"

"More of what?" the fairy godmother asked, acting naïve. Bubbles found her behavior strange. It didn't seem… mature enough for her age.

"Your magic! I need it badly!" Bubbles said.

"Oh, that. My magic. Of course," the fairy godmother continued to behave strangely. It was disconcerting to Bubbles, finding her lifeline being erratic like this.

"Give it to me, now! Please!" Bubbles was flat out demanding for it.

"Well, there's just one problem…" the fairy godmother said slyly.

"What is it!?" Bubbles howled in agony.

"I forgot to bring it with me, and it'd be a few days before I can return," the fairy godmother said with a mischievous smile.

"What!?" Bubbles screamed in disbelief - it was agony that she was doing this quietly if there was such a thing as screaming quietly. Whoever had heard of a fairy godmother who forgets things? "I can't live without your magic! Why are you doing this to me!?"

For some reason, the fairy godmother laughed when she heard this. It'd made Bubbles upset. And mad. But mostly upset. Unknown to her, her eyes had flashed red for a brief moment when hatred surged in her heart.

"Calm down, Bubbles," the fairy godmother said, infuriating Bubbles further. But then she'd reached into her dark blue shoulder bag. Bubbles then noticed that the bulge in it was more noticeable. "I was just kidding, god-daughter… yes… yes… where's your sense of humor?"

"I… I'm sorry," Bubbles apologized, remembering quickly that she was talking to her only source of His Secret 2.0. "I was feeling terrible."

"Don't worry, dear. All is forgiven," the fairy godmother said. For some reason, the tone of her voice had taken a sinister turn, though it was still wizen and motherly. The winged angel-like being pulled her hand out. Barely contained in her clutch were six more pouches containing the drug. Six! Bubbles was overjoyed!

So overjoyed was Bubbles, in fact, that she'd dropped the whole lot immediately upon receiving them to inject herself with one of them.

The fairy godmother did not stop her. Instead, all she did was to smile at the pathetic little addict, looking down at her like a dog as the little girl was feverishly doping herself with another dose of her 'magic'.

And when Bubbles finally got her fix, she could feel it melting away in her veins, like finely-cooked mutton in her mouth. Her discomfort and pain fell away like old memories. She blinked, and her eyes felt heavy. Yet something was wrong. The feeling wasn't as strong as before. The pleasure she felt from it wasn't as strong as before. The feeling of invulnerability and the rage - they were weaker. It wouldn't do - had she taken the magic during crime-fighting, it wouldn't have given her what she needed to get the job done, and maintain the love and respect between her and her sisters.

Yet, how much love and respect was there now? She had beaten Buttercup black-and-blue and red, and Blossom had seen it. Buttercup would never respect that and she had a feeling Blossom wouldn't love her for it.

"Miss Fairy Godmother, it's not enough- one's not enough," Bubbles said as she was still on the ground, on her knees. There was little pleasure to be had, and so she was savoring what little she could gather.

"Oh, that's normal. Yes… yes… The more you use it, the less powerful it becomes," the fairy godmother said as she ran her hand through her hair, stroking it as if she was stroking a pet.

"What do I do? I can't go on like this…" Bubbles said, even as she let herself feel every tiny bit of caressing from the drug, gasping with every little tingle and smooth sensation. It wouldn't last, and so she tried to make every little feeling last.

"But you can go on like this. You just have to take more than one… yes… yes…" the fairy godmother suggested.

"I have to take more than one…" Bubbles repeated her benefactor's words, and she liked the sound of it. "I have to take more than one." She reached for another pouch containing a syringe, only for the fairy godmother to bend down and grab her wrist.

"Just not now. One should be enough… to put you to sleep… yes… yes…" she said with an evil smile, knowing that Bubbles' senses were too badly affected for her to judge her character at all. "By the way, remember rule #4?"

"I have to do everything you ask of me," Bubbles recalled the rule as she stared into the distance.

"Yes, and I have something for you to do…" the fairy godmother said menacingly. "A little something to repay my selfless generosity."


	38. Chapter 33: How Things Change

**Chapter 33: How Things Change**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 0016.**

Bubbles had sneaked back into the Girls' room undetected without waking up Blossom. Clutching her armful of drugs, she scanned the room for a good place to make her stash – her pillow would no longer do because of the number of precious syringes she had just been handed.

When her eyes met the door of the walk-in closet, she knew that it was the only place she could hide her stuff. Hovering up to it, she opened the door silently to enter it, noting that it was no longer creaky because her Dad had oiled it, then closing the door so she could switch the lights inside on without awakening Blossom.

After pulling a cord that lit up the closet, she began looking for a good spot to hide her sinful indulgences. She thought about putting them in a corner behind her dresses, but it wouldn't do; she would be exposed whenever her dresses ran low. She thought about putting them at the bottom of the weapons chest, under guns they didn't like and rarely used, but with crime on the rise, they might be forced to use everything they had.

Then there were the boxes labeled as 'old stuff', even though nothing in The House were really old. They'd contained toys that were broken in the early days when they were careless with their strength, or just toys that were no longer fit for them. Some of the things inside were more fit for babies. Bubbles had no idea why Dad would still want to keep them around, but it was the best place she could leave the fairy godmother's magic behind without being discovered. Her sisters and she had never gone through them before.

The boxes were small, but there were many of them. It was all perfect. No one would ever guess which belonged to her if they were guessing in the first place.

She began unstacking the boxes, aiming for one near the bottom of the pile. Opening up the boxes, she checked the contents to make sure there was enough room for her drugs, and that there was enough junk inside to hide them.

One particular box caught her eye. It contained a vaguely-shaped train coach which was completely white and plastic in texture. By now, she knew that it didn't resemble the real thing in the slightest since it lacked the right color, proportion, and details. But she remembered how she cherished it nonetheless after being given the toy by Dad mere days into their 'birth' when she could barely even walk and talk. Buttercup had tried to take it away only for her to be reprimanded for it. How she had forgotten about it, Bubbles did not know - she just did, in the face of Octi and other toys that fit her better. Hugging the white train coach, Bubbles couldn't help but shed a tear (or two, or three) at how things had changed so drastically. How there was a distance between her and her sisters now, and that she had secrets that had put her at odds even with her dearest Dad.

But she knew that there was no time for nostalgia: she had her stash of precious drugs to hide.

That was when she stumbled on one particular box. It was fairly large, far too big for five syringes. 'Buttercup' was written hastily on the side of the lid, in a small, messy script, misspelled as 'Butercub', probably for lack of time.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who it belonged to. On opening it, Bubbles saw even more syringes, all of which had 'His Secret' written on them. There were about thirty or more of them. There were other things as well, which looked like what a cat or a crow would drag up. There were some bullet casings. It sent a shiver down Bubbles' spine when she saw a small bottle containing dozens of teeth, some of which had dried blood on it. There were buttons, feathers, and bits of animal bones. Buttercup had been busy.

And now she was twice as afraid of being discovered. But it gave her an idea. Taking the weak His Secret drugs she had gathered in the crime scene, she stuffed Buttercup's box with them. Closing it up and sliding it back on the stack as though it was never touched, she went lower on the stack and found herself one with lots of tiny ghost dolls and white pillowcases in them that would serve nicely as cushions and cover.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 0521.**

While the sun was still getting ready to put on its show, Professor Utonium woke up with a start. He had been assailed once again by a nightmare. Bubbles and Buttercup going out of control, killing Blossom, Selicia, and as Buttercup broke his back, he was forced to watch them kill each other, and as it just so happened, they were able to do so. Somehow, they each had a Duranium scalpel, and they'd stabbed each other in the throat. And then he was awake, and all that time before he realized it, he didn't think it was a dream, no matter how lucid it was.

Getting out of bed, he reached for his usual uniform; he'd been sleeping in pajamas, and on the way to the washroom, he took a look at Selicia, and the little bundle of joy in her arms with her head poking out. Buttercup. Her head injuries had healed by then, but it didn't stop him from remembering what Bubbles did. It didn't stop him from remembering what Buttercup had done in the cult compound. Yet, seeing her like this, with an unconscious, innocent smile on her face, perfectly child-like while she was asleep in Mom's arms, gave him hope for the future.

Going into the washroom, he got changed and left his room. Going through the airlock leading down into the labs and to his desk in the labs proper, he started removing slabs of documents from the drawers and began skimming through the back pages.

His latest version of Anti-X wasn't just promising. It was successful, though he had only tested it on plants and small mammals. The experiment with the guinea pigs was hazardous, considering that the animals had discovered that they could chew through steel faster than he expected. But after eating some corn laced with Anti-X, their powers were neutralized and they were returned to normal.

He had combined all three of his ideas for the Anti-X into one. By introducing compounds and catalysts into an organism boosted by Chemical X, both of which themselves were enhanced with Chemical W, the professor was able to create a mixture capable of interacting with Chemical X, dismembering it by removing the bridging molecules and plugging it up with dead-end compounds, ensuring that the Chemical X infused into the organism was incapable of forming any kind of reactions.

But it wasn't the only thing he'd been working on. He couldn't approach the USDO council without proposing to them an alternative to the Girls - a better alternative - and it was just the thing he'd been working on too.

After re-establishing communications with his original staff, he was able to resume work on Chemical X, and recently, born out of the necessity to find a replacement for his Girls to fight crime, he'd decided that he would pursue his previous volition as a lead.

The version of Chemical X Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup were created with was an 'incomplete' version, with 'Sugar', 'Spice' and 'Everything-Nice' serving simultaneously as bridging and stabilizing molecules. There were still three other substances in the original plan for the real Chemical X. He'd often wondered what would have happened had he introduced them all into Chemical X, though his previous expectations had been optimistic. He'd concocted the formula and created the experimental set-up and steps necessary to create it because it seemed like the best possible combination, yielding the best possible results in terms of stability, acceptable mutability, as well as the potential for reactions and the resultant enhancements to an individual infused with it.

A Chemical X with just 'Sugar', 'Spice' and 'Everything-Nice' fused with it, on the other hand, was just the bare minimum, an unintended discovery at that. The professor hated himself and Mojo Jojo that the Girls were robbed of much of their potential and that they were an accident rather than a choice - he could only be happy that they hadn't melted before him just yet. Just yet. In retrospect, his probes into the Girls' version of Chemical X had revealed that it was like a girl on a tightrope, balanced by 'Sugar', which reduced some of the less desirable reactions, 'Spice', which allowed the more desirable reactions and 'Everything-Nice', which provided the most stability of all. The three other compounds that weren't added hadn't been necessary because they were catalytic agents and similar to the 'Spice', allowing other reactions projected to be useful.

The professor had already begun preparing to produce the new 'complete' Chemical X. He'd ordered in the compounds for it - which required that he cut through lines upon lines of bureaucratic red tape considering the top-secret nature of the compounds, but they were due to arrive anytime now.

Soon, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup would be free, and they would get their fairy tale ending - to live happily ever after, as one family.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1107.**

To Bubbles, class today wasn't about the joy of discovery and learning, not like how it had always been. She loved class with Miss Keane, especially the art and craft she got to do almost every day. It wasn't that she no longer liked it. She had other priorities, such as hiding her dark secret from everyone else. She knew they were all looking at her. They were all whispering about her. Miss Keane couldn't be trusted either. She was a teacher - and teachers knew everything. But the biggest priority was the fairy godmother's magic, and how she could keep getting and using it. And the fairy godmother's request yesterday was key to a continuous supply of syringes, as long as she followed along with it.

In order to disguise her needs and distract herself, Bubbles tried enjoying art and craft as much as she could. The day's activity for that was sculpturing, but her sculptures would always end up malformed that she had to keep trying, again and again, to make it right. Her only success story when it came to her clay pieces was barely even staying together after a few minutes in the oven. It was a recreation of her Dad, but its head was halfway from falling off, and the arms weren't much better. It wasn't even anywhere close to a perfect cartoon version of him, at least by her standards, which she no longer cared to uphold. It'd served to distract her classmates and Miss Keane though, who patronized her by calling it good, and beautiful and other things she knew weren't truthful.

She was sweating, as usual, thinking about it; thinking about using another syringe of sweet, sweet His Secret 2.0. Her face had gone pale, as she continued in vain to try not to think about it. She took a glance at the USDO hotline in class once more, hoping that it'd ring, and hoping that the next operation would be a big one, so she'd have an excuse to use it, and not just as usual - she'd be able to use two of them at once! For now, however, if the pain and discomfort of not doping herself became too great, she had to ration it by using just one pathetic dose. It felt good, no doubt about it, but just one dose wasn't as good as it used to be, not by a long shot.

"Bubbles, honey, are you alright?" Miss Keane asked as she bent low beside her. Bubbles could feel her large hand on her back, and she didn't like it. It'd put her on edge, made her wonder if Miss Keane knew. "You're sweating all over."

When Miss Keane reached for Bubbles' forehead, she backed away. Didn't allow her to touch her even for a second. Unfortunately, the little girl had accidentally squashed her clay sculpture in her delirious scramble.

"I'm fine, Miss Keane," Bubbles said, trying her best to sound normal. Her voice came out a little raspy and made her sound a little like Buttercup. Miss Keane did not go away, and it was getting on Bubbles' nerves.

"Are you sure, Bubbles? You don't look fine to me," Miss Keane continued to dog her, and Bubbles hated it. "I didn't know you could get sick - but I could take you to the sickroom and make it better."

Bubbles didn't want to go to the sickroom. She wanted to wait for the hotline to buzz so she could use another pair of syringes and make good on her deal with the fairy godmother - all in the name of getting even more syringes of the good stuff. She'd noticed that the fairy godmother had been generous - more so by the day. She started by giving her just one needle to tide her through the Battle of Silver Age Cineplex, then it was two. It was six the third time. Bubbles imagined that it could be twice or even three times that the next time. In her altered mind, she imagined a whole sea of the dull red liquid. Her ideal world had turned from a cartoonish, idealized version of the real world to just a vast ocean of addictive chemical.

"Bubbles?" Miss Keane continued to annoy her.

"I don't want to go," Bubbles asserted. She was crushing her clay sculpture, not to redo it, but as a way to cope with what was inside her. Deep down, she knew she liked Miss Keane - a lot - but the way she was persistently forcing her to do something was making her mad, really mad. The way she was going to make her miss the chance to get more His Secret 2.0 was inexcusable.

"The sickroom isn't as bad as what your classmates say," Miss Keane said with a laugh, believing that Bubbles was afraid of it. "I'm sure you'll get past the smell, and even come to-"

"I SAID NO!" Bubbles slammed her table, making it creak and flattening her clay. Her eyes flashed red for the briefest moment. The entire class turned to her.

Miss Keane's hands went up to her hip as she glared at her. Blossom ran to Bubbles' side, holding her closely.

"I'm sorry, Miss Keane," Blossom apologized for Bubbles. "It's her new power. It's making her angry all the time and she's still learning to control it. That's what my Dad said."

The moment Bubbles felt her sister's touch, she felt more lucid, in control. It reminded her of family and love.

"I won't do it again, Miss Keane. I'm sorry," she apologized to the teacher as she looked up at her. Just days ago, the look the orange-vested woman was giving her would have reduced her to tears. She looked gigantic from her sitting position, like a skyscraper that was about to fall. Now, she was just another obstacle.

"No powers in the classroom," Miss Keane reminded Bubbles, wagging a finger at her. She then lowered it, and her facial expression wasn't as severe. "You still sure you don't need to go to the sickroom?"

"She's fine," Blossom said to Miss Keane. Bubbles, in the meantime, had to pick up her only completed sculpture. Her cartoon Dad's head had fallen off and nearly rolled off the table had she not intercepted it. Her head was a little clearer, and the sight of her broken sculpture was upsetting. Deep down inside, even while she was fighting off the fits that her drug was giving her, she'd made the clay representation of her Dad as a way to cope.

"What are you doing, Bubbles?" Blossom whispered to Bubbles harshly when Miss Keane went away to another table full of children. "Is it really that hard to not use your BerXerker power?"

"No, I just… It was an accident" Bubbles lied. "I lost control. I'm sorry."

That was when it finally happened. And Bubbles smiled, smiled widely when it did.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The hotline rang, its clown face smiling alongside Bubbles as if taking her side. Blossom turned and glared at the clown phone, unhappy that it was interrupting her talk with Bubbles. She flew to it without allowing it to finish a second buzz:

_Bzzz! Bz-_

"Hello? It's Blossom," she said. "Are you Mister Blake?"

"Gosh no, this is Chief McQuinn, Precinct 34. We have a huge shooting in the Financial District, Bank of China at Smith Avenue. 8 armed men holding a few execs hostages. You know the place?" the caller said on the line.

"Yes, Mister McQuinn, we're on way," Blossom said obediently - she'd been taught that anyone who called on the hotline should be listened to. When she turned around, Bubbles was already next to her, excited that there was action. Buttercup was uncharacteristically apathetic. They were practically racing into the storage room where their stuff was after Blossom received the call - Blossom to rein Bubbles in as she couldn't wait to get to the scene of the crime. Buttercup, however, lagged behind, as if she was asked to eat her broccoli.

Within under half a minute, they were already flying out, with Blossom apologizing to frightened teachers and kindergartners both, leaving after opening a window. They ascended, and when they did, they extended the glider wings on their flight packs, and Blossom led them towards the Financial District.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. En route to Financial District.**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1115.**

"This is Flight Control Five to Bravo-Four-Seven, be advised that the armed perps are on the twenty-first floor. They are heavily armed and dangerous. They have released all but one hostage. Proceed with caution," the Girls' radio crackled and Blossom acknowledged the message.

"What do we do, Blossom?" Bubbles asked the leader, but she had only one thing on her mind - the fairy godmother's magic.

"Just follow me and everything will be fine," Blossom said as they continued to streak across the sky.

Upon reaching the Bank of China, they flew straight through the windows of the twenty-first floor. Blossom had to actually stop and count the windows so they'd go through the right ones before they went full speed ahead. Crashing through the windows, they landed in one of the innumerable offices of the Bank of China, each on a knee, before standing up. Some of the bad guys who'd been keeping watch had to hide behind the office cubicles to avoid the deadly shards of glass flying across the office. Doors leading into the office were simultaneously opened as a few others barged into the office to join the coming firefight, rifles up, clearly too intimidated to even go in guns blazing as if they were weighing their options.

"Give up or we'll make you," Blossom warned the bad guys, putting on a growling voice. She didn't like being taken away from school, just as much as she didn't like innocent people getting hurt.

"It's them, just like the boss promised! Shoot them down!" one of the criminals shouted. They were all wearing masks, which Blossom didn't like. It reminded her too much of the Princess' masquerade ball.

"Buttercup, Bubbles, together, now!" Blossom shouted, speeding through her words quickly. As soon as bullets had started flying, the Girls plowed right into the men, pushing aside cubicle walls and desks, which did nothing to protect the armed criminals.

Bubbles could feel her 'BerXerker' coming up even though she hadn't taken the fairy godmother's magic. After tackling her first enemy, she could feel her eyes heating up; she knew then that it had turned hellish red. But it was preceded by none of the pleasures of the flesh. Within the space of a second though, it didn't matter.

"Rip and tear your guts!" Bubbles screamed as she flew to the next criminal, who was putting half his magazine of rifle rounds into her and punched him over a cubicle wall, the very sound of his skull cracking very audible. Even Buttercup was more forgiving as she wasn't punching to kill, having been pacified by her recent close shave with Dad. "You are big! That means you have big guts!"

Blossom turned her attention to Bubbles as soon as she heard it. Before she attended to her sister, however, she had to fire a couple of beams at a couple of shooters.

"Bubbles, no!" Blossom screamed as she saw Bubbles slashing another bad guy up with her fingernails. She looked like she was about to tear open the poor criminal shooter up. She flew to her to seize her by the arms, getting her off the bad guy, and slam her against a desk.

"Let go of me!" Bubbles struggled against her like a wild animal, trashing on the desk, barely restrained by Blossom, as she swept off trays of documents and a computer in her attempt to escape her and cause more havoc. With a burst of strength, Bubbles broke the desk in two and threw Blossom back, before turning around and staring her down with her red eyes, panting heavily.

"Take deep breaths, Bubbles," Blossom said, following suggestions from her Dad. Buttercup, in the meantime, had knocked down the last gunman and flew over to her side when she was done making sure the bad guys stayed down.

"I can fight the two of you!" Bubbles growled aggressively as she continued panting. She could still remember the fairy godmother's request - she had to. All this - how she was facing off against her own sisters, felt like a prelude to it all.

"You don't want to. We're sisters, Bubbles. Dad said that as long as we have each other, we have a family outside The House," Blossom reasoned. Buttercup had nothing to say - she knew she was beaten the last time with Bubbles' new power activated. Neither did she care for Blossom's little speech. To her, there was no family in or out of the House. Neither was there any fun nor fulfillment left for her - she had tried to enjoy just delivering KOs to the bad guys, but it'd left her empty. It was no different from playing house at home.

There was silence after that, which was only disturbed by Bubbles' panting. Blossom took a sideways glance at Bubbles' latest victim. He was out cold all the same. There were long gashes across his cheek and chest. It was no wonder his lights were out - if the sight of an agitated Bubbles (to put it mildly) couldn't shock him into unconsciousness, then the amount of blood he was losing and the pain from Bubbles' new favorite clawing strikes would.

"B-B-Blossom?" Bubbles uttered as her eyes returned to being normal and baby blue. Her lips trembled as she struggled to hold back her secret, but she bit them in response and shut her eyes so they wouldn't see it in her eyes. "You're right, I don't want to."

"I'm glad you said that," Blossom simply said, none the wiser. She turned around. "Come on, we still need to find the poor man they are holding!"

As SWAT teams were still climbing up the skyscraper and USDO soldiers were rappelling from helicopters on the roof, the Girls were already zipping through corridors and rooms, looking for hostages or any bad guys they missed.

They didn't see any of the former. The latter was only one man, a Chinese executive in a suit who was unguarded and not even bound and gagged.

"That was easy," Blossom said as she carried the man, who was weak from being mistreated and beaten to his feet.

"Yeah," Buttercup muttered - to her, it wouldn't even matter if it was hard. Dad knew about her, and Blossom wouldn't allow her to even look at a bad guy the wrong way.

"Too bad…" Bubbles said, upset. She was hoping for an excuse to use more syringes, which she had hidden in her magazine pouch.

Neither did it sit right with Blossom. Obsessed with puzzles and patterns, she thought it odd that things had become simple after so many operations. But as she waited for the police and USDO to show up, she'd decided to let her guard down a little and start thinking that perhaps - just perhaps - things would go back to the way it used to be in January.


	39. Chapter 34: In the Shadows (Part 1)

**Chapter 34: In the Shadows (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1223.**

Blossom thought that the easy nature of their operation of the day – which involved taking down just eight normal human beings with normal guns – meant that things were going to go back to how it used to be: peaceful, and fun, and filled with learning.

Little did she know that it was the beginning of something different. And worse. Almost as soon as the Girls had touched down back in school and returned to their classroom, with Blossom hoping that she could salvage perhaps half an hour of learning out of the school day, the USDO hotline had rung again. It was right after they had gotten changed too, and so they had to jump back into their gear and fly out.

It wouldn't be the last operation either. The second call had been about a badly-planned bank robbery gone wrong, perpetrated by Lombardi outcasts, alienated and sent on their suicide mission probably for their ineptitude. The third call came in during a late lunch, and they had to go in with their riot gear because it was about dozens of men literally committing random acts of violence – beating random pedestrians on the streets with steel rods and flipping cars and setting fire to some dumpsters and then some – before holing up in an old apartment. They weren't fighters, and so after the Girls took down seven of them with tear gas, flashbangs, and sticks, they surrendered, much to Bubbles' frustration as Blossom had pulled her back the moment she did. It was hard keeping it all in.

When the Girls thought that the third call had to be the last one of the day, a fourth one came in while they were in the middle of dinner. And it was a good dinner too, one that Dad and Mom whipped up in an attempt to make them feel better. While Bubbles was smiling at a fourth chance for something big so she could use her magic and do what the fairy godmother wanted her to do, Buttercup was apathetic while Blossom was plainly upset. Things at the dinner table were going well too, as she was able to strike up a conversation with Dad and Mom about what they would all do when they were free of law enforcement duties.

That she had to toss herself back into the fire after dreaming through half her plate of mutton and broccoli was upsetting her. All too soon, the Girls flew out of the circular windows of their room and into the dark sky. Night had fallen.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. En route to Gladys' Stables (Defunct)**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1944.**

'Hi, it's Blossom. You're not Mister Blake, are you?' Blossom remembered the latest conversation on the USDO hotline as she flew towards the heart signal. With the dark taking over Townsville, it was plain to see in the sky.

'Sorry to disappoint, girlie,' it was Detective Mullens on the phone. 'It's just little ol' me, Garrett Mullens. Listen, I heard from the boss that you gals were called in a gazillion times today, but I really need your help on this one.'

'What is it, Mister Mullens?' Blossom had tried to sound confident and alert and strong, but her voice was raspy and shaky - something that shouldn't have happened until just before bedtime.

'Remember Detective Jack Wednesday?' Detective Mullens had said on the line. Blossom remembered that her heart had sunk when she heard the younger detective's name. The first day she met him, disaster struck. And since she was responsible for part of it, she felt shame upon hearing Jack's name.

'We're not going to The Strip again, are we?' Blossom mumbled, afraid that that would be the case. She actually believed that that was the case. There was never a time when she was tempted to reject the chance to fight crime until then.

'Oh no, don't you worry about that - he's been on the hunt, see, and he managed to trace some of the children we couldn't save before,' Mullens had said. He was trying to sound hopeful, and positive. But it had only brought back bad memories, still fresh, in Blossom. Hundreds of children were lost that day. She had lost herself that day too, and Bubbles had lost something of herself because of her. She remembered Dad's lesson. She had driven the proverbial nails into Bubbles and pulling them out wasn't going to fix the holes. Not entirely.

'He saw them getting hauled into an old stable near the edge of the city. Six or seven of them,' Mister Mullens had said.

'Who are we fighting?' Blossom asked, her insides turning to ice even though her room was well heated.

'Cultists,' Mullens had said. Blossom couldn't breathe after that. Bubbles had lost control the last time they'd fought them. They were powerful enough to encourage her all the way, unlike the thugs they had been putting down throughout the city. A police officer they were speaking to after the 'riot' they put down had said that they had no idea who was behind the huge spike in crime in Townsville, but they were easy to defeat nonetheless - they were just bothersome and tiring to deal with. By the end of the third call, it was as if they had just been through another round with the Purple Man. 'You now know why we need you now? After what they pulled the last time, I guess we needed the insurance. There will be kids in the line of fire too, so I thought they'll respond to the three of you best.'

Blossom took it to mean that the children in the stables would easily befriend and listen to her sisters and her. She had her doubts – normal children were different from her, and Bubbles and Buttercup were far worse with what they were up to lately. Those thoughts had occupied her mind all the way to Mister Mullens, out in the cold, dark border of Townsville. That, along with the ever-present gnawing fear that something was going to go wrong.

When the Girls had reached the SWAT van shining the heart signal into the dark sky above, the Girls couldn't help but get a sense of déjà vu. Although they were many miles away from the farm where the Cult of His Arm was headquartered, the feeling was the same, if not worse.

They weren't just surrounded by dead trees that looked like the twisted bodies or faces of the dead, and the emptiness of snow. They were engulfed by darkness and the terrifying possibilities of what could happen in the deep, dark void.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Detective Mullens greeted them the moment they touched down. It was dark, and shadows had covered most of his features. Even though he was a family friend for months, he still looked intimidating that way. Beside him was his daughter, Olivia, and Stanley Talker. Detective Jack Wednesday stood apart from them, flanked by a pair of uniformed officers.

"I just wish it didn't have to be about fighting tonight," Blossom said in response. "There was too much of that today. Why can't people just be nice to each other?" In retrospect, she realized she sounded like Bubbles before the BerXerker power had grown to define her. It'd made her feel alone, even though she was surrounded by people she liked and loved.

Her sisters, in the meantime, were silent. Buttercup was staring at the snowy ground, completely demoralized by the lack of meaning and motivation in life. Bubbles' eyes, for once, didn't look like it could kill even without Blossom's heat beam. Instead, it was darting around, sticking to everything but anyone else's eyes. She was sweating even though they were out in the cold. Blossom had put it down to nervousness.

"If we get this out of the way, you can bet that people will be nicer to each other," Detective Jack Wednesday said from the side. "We should get moving. They've probably seen our little bat signal." He started walking, and so Mullens and his daughter followed. The talking dog too. The Girls were pulled along.

"I doubt they'll be running away anytime soon," Olivia added. "I've been doing my homework. These weirdos care nothing about themselves. Ritual suicides and past police arrests told the same stories over and over."

"Will they give up this time?" Blossom asked, hoping for a positive answer - she really could go for some early bedtime.

"No," Detective Mullens answered dryly. All around them were car headlights coming from police cruisers, SWAT vans, and USDO unmarked vehicles. Barely illuminated SWAT cops and USDO soldiers were running forward all around them, like ghosts in the dark. No humvees or APCs this time though - it was meant to be a smaller-scaled operation, to be done quietly. Blossom could see that there were fewer good guys this time - perhaps half as many.

"We'll be raiding some old stables today," Detective Wednesday began briefing the Girls. "I tailed one of those child trafficking low-lives to it. They've been working with the cultists, selling them children for some reason I don't want to know but I'll have to find out. Forest rangers in the nearby woods reported screams coming from inside recently, children crying, and armed guards. I've sent my own men on a stakeout, and they reported about twenty of them."

"Do we go in on our own?" Bubbles asked, showing some initiative surprisingly, though it was only for her own selfish reasons. She wanted it to be dangerous, so she would have an excuse to use the fairy godmother's magic.

Then there was the mission her benefactor had tasked her to do. This was it - she knew it - because cultists were involved this time.

"God, no," Detective Wednesday said without pause. "We can't have that again. I don't want a repeat of The Strip. I need you Girls to go in from the front. My men will back you up from all sides. Me, Detective Mullens, Olivia and our talking dog here will sneak around the back."

"Well, someone's getting wise," Detective Mullens jabbed. The younger detective stopped, and so did everyone else. Even though the shadows were covering parts of Wednesday's face, she could tell that he wasn't exactly pleased with what Mullens said.

"That's easy for you to say!" Detective Jack Wednesday spat, jabbing a finger at the older detective. He continued doing so. "At least I didn't spend an entire lifetime lying down and eating shit while the city rotted from the inside-out!"

"Jack, stop-" Olivia shouted from the side. Stanley Talker growled, unsettled by the unexpected hostility between members of his pack.

"Don't think I don't know about your past, Garrett!" Detective Wednesday pressed on, so mad he couldn't just stop. "The mess you made when you went undercover? The people you got killed throughout your 'illustrious' career? Cheated on your late wife too with a bimbo on the other side too, did you?"

"Sir, please! There are kids with us!" Olivia pleaded with Jack, but she was ignored. The Girls merely stared, afraid to intervene in the adults' affair.

"You need to watch your mouth, son," Detective Mullens said, his gravelly tone gaining a furious edge, though it wasn't in an instant. "Don't force me to teach you a lesson in front of the Girls."

"Yeah, took you long enough to reach the rank required to do that, huh?" Detective Wednesday continued to taunt his older colleague over the perceived slight. "How does it feel like to hold the same rank as someone half your age? There's a fucking good reason for that and you can blame the corrupted system all you want! We all know why."

"Sir! The kids!" Olivia reminded the detective urgently. She glanced over at the Girls, who looked appropriately shocked at the language being hurled around. Detective Mullens, in the meantime, had fallen silent, lethally so.

"Yeah, you keep chasing your tiny-ass breadcrumbs and the idiotic pipe dream of putting the Amoeba Boys behind bars," Detective Wednesday kept on going. "It's people like me who're serving the public and protecting the innocents. Tell me, Mullens, how many have you saved in the past, I don't know, three months?"

Detective Mullens was still silent from this. His hands were in his pockets. He stared into the distance. Blossom could feel her eyes going wet. She hated it when friends argue. Looking away, she could only hope that they sort out their differences quickly.

"He was nice to me…" Bubbles mumbled in an attempt to speak up for him. Detective Wednesday looked in her direction, his expression changing from that of anger to some kind of sadness. It was hard to tell from the shadows. "He kinda saved me…"

She remembered how Mister Mullens had found her alone in The Strip when Blossom had abandoned her, how he covered her up with his own trench coat even though it was winter. How he defended her and brought her home personally, even though it took more time - his time - to do so than if she would fly home herself. She hadn't said it yet, but he was grateful for his company even though he was driving and she was in the backseat - how grateful she was that he'd done it.

"I, urm…" Detective Wednesday was at a loss for words. He knew that he had been responsible for Bubbles' ordeal. That very same night he left The Strip, he had been drinking heavily over it - well, it had something to do with the fact, too, that he had failed to rescue three hundred children from child prostitution and slavery, and managed to miss arresting key members of Townsville's most prolific child trafficking ring even though he had vast resources at his command to make it happen. Unable to spare a word for Bubbles or anyone else, he continued walking, caring little if anyone was following. "Let's just go. We're wasting time."

Asked the group walked on, Bubbles was concerned for Mister Mullens. The things Mister Wednesday had said was upsetting, even Bubbles knew that. At the very least, it had distracted Bubbles from her addiction; coming up next to Mullens, she took his hand as they continued on their way to deployment.

"Thanks, kid, but you didn't have to," Mister Mullens said. Bubbles didn't know how or why she thought so, but he sounded a little like a wounded beast. Like a bear who'd stepped on a trap.

"But I want to," Bubbles said. She understood Mullens very well - she had been accused, and rightly so too, of failing in many ways so many times. In fact, she knew, right then, that she was failing in another way, and she didn't have the willpower to correct it.

"You're an angel, you know that? That's something that will never change," Mister Mullens said.

An angel. Bubbles knew better, for things had already changed without him knowing it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Gladys' Stables (Defunct)**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 2009.**

"Buttercup, Bubbles," Blossom said to her sisters as they floated their way up to the main entrance of the stables' manor, into the porch. "We'll go in close together this time."

Although she had seen nothing beyond the door and walls of the manor using her X-ray vision, it was too dark for her to see anything beyond a few feet past the door. One could never be too careful.

"Why?" Bubbles asked, even though she knew very well why.

"It's safer that way," Blossom said, though she wasn't really lying.

"This is Detective Wednesday to Blossom," the younger detective whispered through the radio. "We're ready to breach the building."

"Buttercup, Bubbles, you two knock down the doors when I tell you to," Blossom ordered, referring to the grand entrance of the manor. "I'll shoot."

Blossom shouldered her MP5 and charged up her eyes, getting ready to blast any cultists on the other side of the doors either way. Bubbles' hands were shaking - she really needed her fix and she felt that the time for it was close, so close she was shaking with anticipation.

"Now!" Blossom shouted, and her sisters kicked down the doors cleanly off their hinges. Looking in, they saw that the hall of the manor was as dark as the windows let on. Contrary to expectations, they weren't buffeted by a hailstorm of bullets the moment they came in.

The Girls' eyes went immediately to lantern mode to make up for the darkness. Floating in, guns live, the illusion of peace was quickly broken when a woman who had been hiding behind an old, non-working grandfather clock jumped out and charged them with a machete, screeching like some vampire creature with glowing red eyes. Blossom fired a couple of her heat beams at her, flooring her. Dust fell from the roof. Buttercup looked up, bringing her eye-light to bear on the second floor to find a couple of cultists spying on them from above, wielding bolt-action rifles. She quickly swept her laser eye beam across the banister they were leaning on, causing them and their cover to fall from above to the ground floor.

Bubbles then caught sight of a man in red robes descending the stairs, and promptly put a poorly-aimed shot in his leg, which caused him to tumble down. It was only by virtue of the fact that he wasn't far that she'd even hit anything – her hands were shaking from the lack of a certain drug to make her feel better.

It was silent again after that. Blossom had been sweeping the perimeter with her x-ray vision in the meantime. There was no ambush waiting in the adjacent rooms, as far as she could tell in the darkness. SWAT officers filed in through the entrance they opened, cuffing the cultists, all of whom were still alive if wounded in a multitude of ways.

Things were going well so far. But there were too few of them when there should be at least twenty.

"Blossom," one of the SWAT officers called out to the leader of The Three as he was handcuffing the cultic lady she had knocked out. "Work your way to the stables. Sweep as you go. Your job here is done."

A few gunshots ringing out in the house punctuated the SWAT cop's orders. Blossom started looking through walls, searching for the source of the sound as she guided her sisters towards an exit that would take them close to the stables on the manor's grounds.

The shots had originated from the detectives' group. There was a series of barks afters that, followed by the loud sound of scuffling and dog-on-man violence. Blossom could see it all through the walls; Rays from torchlight illuminating fallen bodies. Buttercup could hear it clearly as if it was all happening in the same room as her, but she didn't care. Blossom could only wish that she could see her friends again, but she knew she had to follow the plan.

"Come on, Girls, let's go save our friends," Blossom said, and by friends, she meant children - because by her innocent worldview, all children were friends of each other. The opposite was but a few exceptions. Flying up to the second floor with her sisters catching up quickly, Blossom opened a door and flew through a bedroom and its window. Buttercup was so clumsy that she partially broke the window even though it was open. Bubbles completed the destruction by flying slightly higher, completely taking the window off its frame.

Flying across a field that was probably for horses to canter around, Blossom flew towards one of the stables, and together with Bubbles and Buttercup, knocked down a massive door leading into the stables meant for horses to gallop through with their riders. There were dim lights in stable number one, which meant someone was there.

And they were right. Several cultists were walking up and down the rows of horse stalls. Blossom shot infrared beams on one the moment she noticed them. However, the moment she did, many more burst out of the stalls, firing their weapons at them. Two cultists who were closer had thrown their handheld weapons at them, one of which was some kind of a sickle, at Blossom while another a knife at Bubbles.

They didn't have time to see what sort of weapons they were. Blossom and Bubbles had found out too late, however, that they were Duranium.

The sickle had missed Blossom almost entirely - except it had nicked her in the arm. Bubbles wasn't so lucky, as the throwing knife aimed at her had struck home, burying itself in her shoulder.

Both Girls had each flown into their own stalls for cover, and they had each discovered that the stables weren't used to hold horses. In fact, Blossom had expected horses, only to be disappointed in the split second she had before the bad guys appeared - Dad had yet to take them to a stable to see the horses and ponies.

The stalls contained children instead. A boy, black and eight years old - very afraid with a leg chained to the wall - was staring at Blossom when she crashed through the doors and into his stall. Bubbles was met by a six-year-old Caucasian girl who was also chained by a leg to the wall. She didn't even care that she was there because she knew that it was time…

Time to do as the fairy godmother had asked, but most importantly, to use her magic. She didn't even care that a Duranium knife was sticking out of her shoulder. Wincing in pain and ignoring the pleas of the child for help, Bubbles pulled out a syringe and quickly injected herself with drugs, before repeating the action and going for a double dose. As Buttercup dove into action, ignoring bullets and pain and punching out bad guys, Bubbles finally got what she wanted as she moaned and clutched herself in pure pleasure while the little girl chained to the wall watched in horror.

"Stay here - we'll beat the bad guys first then come get you," Blossom instructed the boy in her stall as she crouched low in it. Pain shot up in her arm. Clutching it and yelping, she realized that it was bleeding there - the wound wasn't just skin-deep. However, it could have been worse. Hovering up, she surveyed the stables to find that Buttercup was alone in her fight against the cultists, but doing admirably well - she'd just thrown a cultist through a wall. He wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. Looking to her right, she saw that Bubbles had yet to leave her stall, but she didn't have time to check on her. Buttercup needed help.

"Betrayers!" a feral-looking cultic axeman with a pair of hatchets screamed as he rushed Buttercup while she was pushing away a few others who had rushed her with other deadly-looking implements en masse. Blossom flew over at high speeds to slug him, throwing him off his feet.

"Betrayers!" the group Buttercup had pushed back echoed. "He will be displeased!"

Buttercup glanced dismissively at Blossom.

"Why do you even care?" she said.

"Because I do," Blossom replied. The cultists, with more coming to reinforce them, started rushing them again. The axeman was getting up. Their eyes were all red. To the Girls, it meant things were going to get difficult.

"Join us before it's too late!" another cultist warned the Girls even as he charged them, pistol blazing.

Bubbles stood behind them, tilting her head as she observed what was going on, her mouth slightly ajar as she was still experiencing a tide of pleasure ebbing and flowing inside her. She reached for the throwing knife in her shoulder and pulled it out unflinchingly, casually. She held onto it because she thought it would be interesting to use.

Staring Blossom in her back, she gasped as the very thought of putting the knife in her back alone had resulted in a spurt of pleasure in her. Revenge was a form of pleasure, and the very thought of carrying it out, the temptation, was overwhelming. Besides, she knew that Blossom would try to stop her from doing what would please the fairy godmother and gain her even more of her magic.

Bubbles clutched the Duranium throwing knife, which was wet with her own blood, tightly. She could still remember Blossom's poorly chosen words and physical abuses clearly, even if her memories weren't as sharp as either of her sisters'. Detective Wednesday's mere presence had served as a reminder.

Yes, she would help the fairy godmother just as she had helped her.


	40. Chapter 35: In the Shadows (Part 2)

**Chapter 35: In the Shadows (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Gladys' Stables (Defunct)**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 2023.**

As Blossom was fending off cultists by firing stunning heat beams into their ranks, not doing much for long, or punching and kicking at any that were coming close, the cultic axeman had gotten up without her noticing. Shouting a warcry, he held his right hatchet as he charged at Buttercup, attracting the enhanced little girl's attention, who fired a laser beam at his weapon, only to do no damage against the axehead. She fired a second beam to slice it by the handle instead, but then felt sharp when the cultic axeman hacked her in the thigh with his left hatchet – the right hatchet had been a distraction.

Buttercup's cry of pain had attracted Blossom's attention. She sailed across the room and delivered a flying kick to the back of the axeman's head, who collapsed.

"Are you alright?" Blossom asked.

"Just leave me alone!" Buttercup replied as she was clutching her belly. Blossom couldn't see how bad it was, just that she was bleeding.

Just then, a firebomb exploded right on top of Blossom. Her bow, gear, and uniform were on fire. The nauseating smell of burning petrol was choking. Blossom fired a few infrared beams in retaliation, at point-blank range, dropping a few and pushing back the growing number of cultists.

That was when she felt a sharp pain down her back, and saw Bubbles bowling through her and a few cultists, pushing past them and through the barn at high speeds, crashing through the set of doors on the other end of the stables.

"Bubbles, what are you doing!?" Blossom cried too late as she was long gone. Little did she know that she was extremely lucky. Bubbles had been contemplating stabbing her in the back to remove any chance of her interference in the fairy godmother's affairs. An inkling of kinship and love that Bubbles could still feel in her drug-fueled enraged state had dissuaded her from doing so.

It didn't dissuade her from doing the fairy godmother's bidding to gain further access to her magic though.

In the meantime, Buttercup had begun escalating her attacks, graduating to emitting cutting beams at the cultists. Blossom could see curious children poking their head out of the stalls. There was the smell of smoke and burnt hay. Looking around her, she saw that the firebomb hadn't just set fire to her. It was spreading very quickly over the hay and wooden structure of the stables. Even the cultists could see what could go wrong with this. Some of them, especially those around the back of the cultist group, was already running away.

Another cultist surged forward, taking swipes with his Duranium machete but Blossom was able to dodge them all and retaliate with an uppercut. Her attacker was thrown backward, but he did not hit the floor as he was buoyed up by his friends behind him.

Time was running out. The fire was spreading and children were screaming.

"Buttercup, we need to save the kids!" Blossom appealed to her sister. But from what her Dad had revealed about Buttercup, she knew that she would be too 'messed up' to care – one could only hope that she would. "They'll burn in the fire!"

"I'll fight the cultists. You do that," Buttercup offered, not because she cared about the children – they could burn to death in this fire for all she cared – but because in this mess, she sensed an opportunity.

"Thanks! We'll have to find Bubbles later – she's gone!" Blossom said before zooming off to save the kids in the stables.

"She could die and I won't care," Buttercup muttered to herself, not so much afraid that Blossom would hear, but she was more cautious than ever about losing favor with her Dad – even if it looked like she had squandered most of it by being discovered. She still couldn't believe they were angry at her for killing the woman. After all, wasn't she a cultist? By extension, it'd made her baby a cultist and therefore an enemy – she was willing to bet that people like General Blackwater and Captain Butch would agree with her, though in reality, even Captain Butch, a man who would put the entire population of an Afghan village before a firing squad, would think twice about committing infanticide.

Going into a stall, Blossom found a boy who was just lying on the floor, dazed. His eyes were red and he was foaming in the mouth. She could draw parallels with Bubbles. But how could a normal boy be like Bubbles? Without the time to think about it, she decided that he was a cultist because of his eyes, but one who was young and deserved saving. 'Kids make mistakes,' she knew her Dad would say if he was in the stables.

Picking up the boy's chain, she snapped it in two before carrying him fireman-style. As she flew towards the exit, she looked back at Buttercup to check on her.

She had been sweeping her laser across the cultic horde, enduring bullets and further melee attacks from the braver or crazier of the cultists.

Outside, she laid the boy down. In the distance, she saw that the detectives were coming with the talking dog. But she had no time to wait and greet them. Flying back in, she started freeing more children, some who could run on their own and others who, being drugged like the first child, needed lifting.

After rescuing a few more children, Blossom had stopped to check on Buttercup.

She was streaked with blood – and most of them weren't hers. The cultists, barring a few, were in full retreat. Blossom shouldered her MP5 and fired a few rounds to help her unstable sister out, putting them in shoulders and arms as she didn't want the cultists to die in the fire too – they needed their legs to run. Buttercup turned around in her hovering position.

"I didn't need your help!" she shouted ungratefully.

"But I need yours! There are still children inside and we need to get them out!" Blossom said. The fire was absolutely raging, and there was still crying and screaming inside.

Wordlessly, Buttercup flew into one of the stalls after giving Blossom the stink eye. She then freed a girl by cutting her chain using her laser beam. She carried the girl, about twice her physical age, roughly by an arm and flew her out of the stables. When they were out, she nonchalantly tossed her down next to the others.

With Buttercup's unwilling help, Blossom was able to evacuate the children quickly. But where Buttercup was unwilling to help with the children, she was hostile with her next request.

"We need to get the cultists out too," Blossom said to Buttercup. At this, Buttercup folded her arms and just gave her the most spiteful glance she could work up. It didn't take any effort at all.

"They'll die in there!" Blossom pleaded with her stubborn tomboy sister.

"Fine. You're the leader, 'sis'," Buttercup said sarcastically before flying back into the stables with her, picking up cultists, two at a time. She hated it - she hated that she had to swallow her hate and ego and needs to clean up a mess that would have been swallowed up by the fire anyway, that she was back to being totally subjugated by Blossom where previously, she didn't even have much space to do whatever she wanted to begin with.

Outside, they began depositing the cultists as far away from the children as possible, where the detectives, talking dog and their gathering colleagues could hold them.

Blossom, in particular, was trying to do this as fast as she could - Bubbles was still missing, and she was dreadfully terrified of what she might be up to without her supervision. Being incredibly unpredictable these days, that she could be killing bad guys wasn't the only concern she had.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Gladys' Stables (Defunct)**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 2035.**

Bubbles had flown over to a second stable after ditching her sisters in the first. She had traced the cultists, who ran in the other direction, some of who fired wild shots at her on sight, into the second stable. She knew that the object of her fairy godmother-given mission was there. Her magical benefactor had given her some very specific details and instructions.

Swooping through the entrance of the second stable, she crashed into a cultist who happened to be in the way. He was dashed so hard against the concrete floor that ripples of cracks erupted throughout his body. He was a bloody smear on the floor after that, instantly dead, while Bubbles continued flying through the stables when she saw that it was empty of cultists. There was another door leading deeper into the building. She went through there and turned to look, the second stables being L-shaped.

A group of red-robed cultists was huddled around something. They turned around as soon as they heard the whooshing of wind and the banging of doors preceding her landing. One of them came forward, a man who appeared familiar and yet impossible to place by Bubbles - not that she was of sound mind to place anyone.

"Bubbles!" the man greeted her - how did he know her name? He didn't look like a cultist, especially after he'd thrown off his red robes, revealing a trench coat underneath. He pulled out a familiar badge with an eagle motif to it. "Jackard - USDO intelligence. I need you to stand down - what's wrong with your eyes?"

Jackard. Bubbles thought she'd seen him once or twice before, among policemen and USDO soldiers.

"Anyway, we got him - the leader of the Cult of His Promise. The guy who attacked Blossom back in that cinema?" the man claimed. Bubbles looked past him to see the cult leader. The man had long hair, scraggly beard, a permanent, malicious smile on his face that persisted despite his capture. He was surrounded by turncoat cultists, men, and women who Jackard had recruited based on their regret in joining the cult.

Bubbles recognized the cult leader. A USDO security officer had visited them soon after the Battle of Silver Age Cinema to brief them on him. But it wasn't the USDO briefing that informed her the most about the cult leader.

She had to do it. The look on the friendly cultists' eyes said it all. They knew about Bubbles' secret. Bubbles started forward, unslinging her MP5 and shouldering it.

"Bubbles, what are you doing?" Chief Intelligence Officer Jackard asked, confused. Bubbles aimed her weapon at him. "Bubbles! Stand down! Stand-" And she unloaded something like eight or ten rounds at him. She saw blood spurting front and back of his head. The rest of her rounds had penetrated his torso. He fell, and Bubbles turned her submachine gun on the friendly cultists, firing on them at full auto, and when her SMG was out, she leaped at them, stabbing him in the stomach with the Duranium knife she'd pulled from her shoulder before slitting it partially and leaving the knife there, letting the cultist try in vain to keep his entrails in as he collapsed to his knees.

She threw another cultic defector through a wooden pillar so hard that the pillar broke in two, and the red-robed man looked even worse. Grabbing another by the neck, she flew up higher and threw him down on the stump of the broken pillar, impaling him on the stake-like wood. Had Bubbles been sober, she would have thought that his scream was horrifying, if the sight of it wasn't enough.

The cultists tried to fight back, but it was like confronting a force of nature; like trying to blow up an earthquake with mines or sniping out a tornado with a hunting rifle. Bubbles yanked the rifle of a female cultist away and shoved the barrel through her throat. She sliced another cultist with her nails, cutting deep into his face, bursting eyeball and lacerating flesh. This one had only stumbled, being slightly more resilient, so she leaped onto him and bit his throat off, bathing herself in his blood. But there wasn't time to enjoy the fruits of her labor - picking up the downed cultist's bolt-action rifle, she swung its stock at another, smashing both his skull and the stock into splinters.

One more cultist remained, and he chose to run. Bubbles didn't let him. Flying up to him, she landed on his back, clenched her thighs tightly around his neck as he was screaming and flew backward, yanking him back and slamming him down on the concrete floor. Putting her arms around his head and face, she jerked at it so hard that he was beheaded instantly - so quickly that the cultist did not know even after his head was cleanly separated from his body.

Bubbles stood up and held the head up before her, fascinated by what she had done. She giggled when the man's eyes were still open and staring at her, still alive, but that had only lasted a few seconds more. She thought it was funny - like something out of a Saturday cartoon show. When the last cultist's eyes shut themselves for the last time, she dropped the head and returned to the cult leader tied to a chair.

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked calmly, his smile still plastered on his face even if he was facing apparent death. Without saying a word, Bubbles flew up to him, grabbed the rope coiled around his body and pulled them apart, snapping them as if they were made of paper. The cult leader shrugged them off. Bubbles continued to free him by digging into the rope around his ankles with her fingernails and cutting them off that way.

The cult leader stood up when his legs were free. Bubbles continued to work on him, floating around him and biting off the ropes binding his wrists together. When it was off, the cult leader turned to face her. Bubbles, startled for some reason, backed away whilst hovering.

"Why are you helping me?" the cult leader asked, still maintaining his royal, high and mighty holy savior-type demeanor.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 0006.**

"You will find a friend of mine in Gladys' stables. Leopold is his name. He has long, black hair and is heavily bearded. His eyes will be glowing red like yours. He is in the Cult of His Promise, and so he wears a red robe. He will be betrayed by his friends. You will rescue him by killing the betrayers – they are evil for double-crossing a man they regard as their friend and leader, after all," the fairy godmother instructed as Bubbles was still on her knees, enjoying the effects of her latest dose of His Secret 2.0. "You will tell him that-"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Gladys' Stables (Defunct)**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 2035.**

"The Master protects. You will continue to serve him as you did," Bubbles relayed the fairy godmother's message to the cult leader. "I am now on His side, and so I am at your disposal."

The cult leader's smile grew wider if it was even possible.

"I understand my vision now," the messianic-looking cultic figure said vaguely. From within his disheveled robes, he pulled his pendant out. On the pendant is an icon resembling some kind of a demon.

"Bubbles, do not shy away from this – you will be kept safe this way. Thank the Master for me," the cult leader, Leopold, said.

"What do you mean?" Bubbles asked, but she got her answer in an unexpected way – an immediate way. Putting up his hand, a kind of hellish red lightning shot out from it, streaking to Bubbles and striking her in the head. She screamed in pain, clutching the sides of her head, the electrical-like red energy so excessive that it was lighting up her eyes and mouth. When it was over, she dropped to the ground, lying on her side.

"Make no mistake, Bubbles. He is pleased that you are on His side," she could hear Leopold's voice echoing in her ear. "Now rest. Rest, my dear. You've done well."

For a few seconds, she blinked, remembering a random day at the playground with Dad and Blossom and Buttercup for some reason, before everything went dark.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Gladys' Stables (Defunct)**

**15 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 2042.**

"Bubbles? Bubbles?" A voice was calling out to her. Bubbles could hear it was she was just coming to. She opened her eyes, but her vision consisted of a hotchpotch of colors. She thought she could make out splotches of red, orange, pink and beige. "Bubbles, are you alright?"

But when everything came into focus, she saw that it was Blossom kneeling over her, shaking her awake. Where she was previously on her side, her sister had shifted her to her back. Bubbles sat up when she remembered the pain that came with the red lightning that had knocked her out before. She then remembered Leopold, the cult leader.

"Bubbles, you're alright!" Blossom exclaimed, glad that she had come to. Bubbles, however, wasn't too thrilled - instead, she was looking around the stables, somehow expecting the cult leader to stick around despite the fact that he was supposed to be gone. After all, she couldn't afford to have her secret exposed.

"I… guess I am," Bubbles said. But thankfully, there was no sign of him. Instead, there were dead bodies all around her, the result of her drug-fueled outburst.

"What happened to you?" Blossom asked. That was when Bubbles understood why Leopold had knocked her out. It was the perfect alibi, though she didn't know the word for it.

"I was fighting the cultists, but I guess they were too strong for me…" Bubbles lied, looking around her. Blossom studied her surroundings as well. "I had to kill some of them. I had no choice."

"I guess you had to…" Blossom shrugged her shoulders. Although she found the loss of life distasteful, the fact that Bubbles was lying on the floor, unconscious, seemed to justify the need for killing. She thought that Bubbles was nigh-unstoppable in her BerXerker fury - that the cultists managed to subdue her even in that state might have meant that she was in real danger of dying herself. Still, something did not add up, though Blossom wasn't sure what it was. Trusting her sister to tell the truth, however, Blossom did not think about it any further.

"Why did you come here without us anyway?" Buttercup questioned Bubbles, not out of a need to find out the truth, but out of spite towards her sister for beating her up a couple of days ago. Today, it didn't help that Bubbles had left her alone in the first stable when her help could have made things easier - she was injured again as a result. She hated getting stitches. "We needed your help and you just left us!"

"I lost control… I'm sorry…" Bubbles lied.

"You're always saying the same thing!" Buttercup asserted.

"Forget it, Buttercup," Blossom said. "Things are fine now. It could have been worse. It's not as if she ran away. She was fighting."

"What's the difference? She left us!" Buttercup continued to press on.

Detective Mullens, Wednesday and Olivia were coming up to them as Blossom and Buttercup argued and Bubbles was just sitting on the floor, looking miserable in one of her more lucid moments - which were becoming less and less common the more she used the fairy godmother's magic.

"Where's Mister Talker?" Bubbles asked. She hadn't spoken to the talking dog for a day or two, and already, she was missing him. The dog's companionship had been unconditional, and it was a pal, completely non-judgemental.

"He's entertaining the kids you three saved," Olivia said. "Good job."

"It's just the two of us," Buttercup retorted, still mad at Bubbles for her abandonment and previous perceived errors. "Bubbles didn't do any saving."

"Stop being mean to me!" Bubbles shouted angrily all of a sudden, her eyes turning red again, shocking everyone concerned.

"Or what!?" Buttercup retaliated. Blossom had to get between the two of them.

"Okay, break it up, the both of you," Detective Mullens said, pulling Bubbles back. She shrugged off his hands violently, and the detective, for the first time, had to wonder if he was going to get a bloody nose out of it. But thankfully, Bubbles' eyes had gone back to baby blue once more, which he used as an indicator of her mood.

"You know, Buttercup, Bubbles didn't exactly do nothing," Detective Wednesday said unexpectedly to Buttercup. Pointing behind him, he continued: "She made sure there were no cultists here in this second stable, so the kids here are safe. Safer, in fact, than the kids in the first stable. That's not to say that you and Blossom didn't do anything either, of course. We've all done something here." Even more unexpectedly, Jack Wednesday cracked a smile, and for good reason. All in all, there were thirty-eight children of all ages and both gender who'd been spared a life in a crazy cult, whatever that entailed.

And he bloody well knew what it entailed. He'd done the research, seen the sights in the manor and the stables. He hadn't told the Girls yet, and he didn't want to as they were children themselves too. He'd gone below the basement of the manor. They'd dug deep, built some kind of a chamber down there, made an altar. And there was blood on that altar. And shackles. Where the bodies were, however, he did not know. He would rather focus on finding the living.

Then there were the children who were still breathing. Some of them displayed signs of drug abuse. Judging by the setting and the fact that the children were literally chained where they were, based on none other than their accounts, the drugs were pumped into them by force. The cult had been using them as human guinea pigs for testing the drug.

"That's nice to know," Blossom smiled at Bubbles, but Bubbles wasn't smiling - deep inside, she wasn't proud of what she had done. Saving the children wasn't her intention - getting more drugs was, and in her selfish pursuit of artificial, liquid joy, she'd inadvertently helped the cult. She wasn't blind nor completely out of it in her drug-induced state.

"I guess…" Bubbles simply said.

"Say, did the three of you see a man here? White guy with long black hair and beard? Same guy seen in the cineplex?" Detective Mullens asked, pulling out a polaroid with a slightly outdated visage of the cult leader himself. He didn't look much different years ago. The beard was shorter. "We had a tip-off that he'd be here, from some very reliable sources."

Blossom shrugged her shoulders, followed by Buttercup.

"What about you, Bubbles?" Detective Mullens asked, pushing the photo closer to her face. "Did you see him around here?"

Bubbles didn't want to lie, but she knew she had to. Afraid that the detective would see that, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"You sure?" the detective asked. His source was very reliable; he had never failed him before.

"I've never seen him, okay!?" Bubbles shouted, feeling harried. The worst part was that the detective was right to have done that. Mullens stared at her, looking like he had unearthed something.

"Alright, alright, don't get your pantyhose tied up," Mullens said, before surveying the destruction Bubbles had wrought. "What did I tell ya? You really need to dial it back a little."

"They were hurting her really badly, Mister Mullens," Blossom defended her sister. "She was lying on the floor when I found her."

"Unconscious, you mean?" Mister Mullens inquired. Blossom nodded with a cute 'uh-huh'.

Something just wasn't adding up for the detective. It was a feeling he was used to in his career, but not one he would care to stomach for long – and his answer to that was usually some good ol' fashioned detective work.


	41. Chapter 36: In the Shadows (Part 3)

**Chapter 36: In the Shadows (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 0752.**

Sleep came easily the previous day, despite the Girls' injuries. It had been a long Wednesday after all. For Blossom, the hope that the sudden rash of crime was an just a quirk of the day had kept her from staying awake. For Buttercup, depression kept her down. To sleep was to get away from the emptiness that was her life now. Bubbles, on the other hand, couldn't wait for the next day, which would bring more opportunities for using the fairy godmother's magic.

But even in their dreams, there wasn't a void for them to rest in. Blossom had emerged into a beautiful forest under a beautiful starry night sky once more, and the man of her dreams had visited her again. Oh, how she'd missed him! She couldn't help but to cry in his arms, and tell him about all the things her sisters had been up to. But she couldn't take what he'd said in the end.

'Perhaps it's time that you distance yourself from your sisters. The three of you may be born together, but that does not make them good - if you stay with them any longer, they will corrupt or destroy you,' he'd said. 'Or even better - your father had said that doing the right thing is hard. And the right thing to do is to end your sisters, or they will hurt even more people… Yes… Yes…'

That was when she pushed the dream-man with a goatee away from her and ran away.

Buttercup, on the other hand, had met the dead cat again in her dreams. It was awfully distant as usual, but it did say that its many friends had taken an interest in her. Friends who would know a way out for her in her current predicament - when a family who claimed to know what's best for her had decided that she was 'a freak', as the dead cat had put it.

'The cults you've been fighting… there are some in them who can help you,' the dead cat had claimed. 'They know who you are, and they'll come for you at the right time and the right place. And then you'll be happy… Yes… Yes… You just need to wait PATIENTLY! I know you enough to know that you are not patient, but you must be.'

The next day, just when Blossom thought that the streak of criminal activity from yesterday was broken (naively by faith alone), there was a call just before they were ready to go to school. Her sisters and she were already donning their backpacks and on the way to Dad's family saloon when the USDO hotline rang. Before they knew it, they were flying to some obscure bank to beat down some of the most clueless bank robbers in Townsville - apparently, they didn't even have an escape plan. There were only six robbers, and Bubbles couldn't use her syringes.

They were scarcely settling down in class when there was another call. A neighborhood shootout in the tenements area had escalated out of control and required the Girls' intervention. It'd turned out to be another one of those operations that was neither too hard nor too easy, much to Bubbles' chagrin, forcing her to secretly inject herself with the fairy godmother's magic after lying to Blossom about needing the loo. She had to do it in a dirty, broken toilet too, which was typical of the rundown tenements.

By the time they gave their report to the police lieutenant in charge of the operation, school was nearly over. But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was when they had to attend to another call even before Dad and Mom could make lunch. They had to go on an empty stomach, clutching microwave-heated instant meals in paper bags while they were on the way to another operation. They had to eat while flying at the same time, and it'd made for a messy ordeal. Bubbles didn't even try, though she suffered much less for it as the drug had made her lose her appetite.

The next flash operation had turned out to be a manhunt, and the Girls were tasked with looking for a group of jewelry thieves wherever the police would point their fingers in the direction of. It was grueling, as they had to speed off here and there and search through ten or more locales before hitting the jackpot. What was even odder was the fact that the jewelry thieves were described to be moving in a nonsensical pattern that wouldn't have helped them to escape. If anything, their 'escape' pattern seemed designed to waste time. When they were captured, it didn't help Bubbles' mood that the jewel thieves had given up after Blossom had KO'ed the crew's leader. By the time they were back home, the lunch Dad and Mom had whipped up had become dinner.

Blossom, in the meantime, had been growing more and more concerned when it came to her sisters. Buttercup was barely even cooperating with her, but Bubbles took the cake. Her temper problem hadn't improved one bit despite Dad's optimistic projection that it would disappear as quickly as her accidents with her heat beam. If anything, it was getting worse. She had begun acting out more often. When the jewelry thieves did not turn up in the location they searched, Bubbles had trashed the place and generally messed it up and even destroy a pillar or wall or two - and Blossom had to stop her. That was aside from the fact that she tried to kill the jewelry thieves in plain sight even when they gave up without a fight. Blossom had to restrain her - and had Buttercup not helped, she wouldn't have been able to. And Buttercup had come dangerously close to disobeying her.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1735.**

When Blossom had told Professor Utonium about Bubbles' continued difficulties with controlling her BerXerker power, he could do nothing except run some more tests on her, tests that ultimately did nothing but affirm that Bubbles' body chemistry hadn't changed - if anything, the hormonal contents of her blood had further increased in concentration. All he could do was prescribe medication to Bubbles in the hopes that it would help her calm down while she worked out how to control her BerXerker power - though he found it troubling that he was prescribing antipsychotics and antiandrogens to Bubbles, the medication that was the last things he would expect her to take.

And it was prescribed none too soon – for, during Bubbles' checkup, the clown phone in the lab started ringing. Blossom had to apologize and plead for time for Bubbles' medical examination to be over.

It turned out to be Agent Blake, whom Blossom sorely missed. Her sisters, however, weren't as enthusiastic as she had hoped. Buttercup had gone cold on everyone and as for Bubbles – Blossom could not tell what was motivating her sweetest sister any longer. She seemed to have lost interest in Mister Blake.

'Hey, Blossom, don't ask. It's me, Blake,' the agent had said on the phone. The smart little girl could recall every detail of it. She couldn't help but drink in his every word, his accent, and tone and every little nuance of what he said as he had been gone for too long. 'I'm sorry we haven't visited for a while now. I've been really busy lately. It's funny how our duties have been putting a distance between us, and now it's bringing us all back together.'

'But what are we doing, Mister Blake?' Blossom had asked.

'Just like old times, buddy. We're going down to the sewers. I swear, they multiply like rats down there,' Mister Blake had rambled on. 'But we're going to have to try to shut them down completely.'

Thus marked the Girls' return to the sewers, made worse because they had already found out what it was for and what the water contained the first time.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Logger Street.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1753.**

Feeling cold, filthy and miserable, Blossom started forwards in the sewer tunnels. Surprisingly, Bubbles did not appear to feel the same way at all. 'I can't wait to help our friends,' she'd said, and Blossom had put less stock in her words than before. The leader of The Three knew better than to judge her sister by a power she couldn't control, but she could not help but feel differently about her. Where previously, Bubbles was afraid of getting down and dirty to fight crime, it was as if she had missed the fact that they were down in the sewers with the entire city's human waste. Buttercup, in the meantime, didn't seem to care, though unlike Bubbles, Blossom could tell that she hated it based on the grimace on her face.

When they had floated far enough ahead, the Girls' friends, Agent Blake and his band of USDO operatives, started climbing down from the manhole. While they were directed on where to go by Agent Blake, Blossom was using her x-ray vision to scan ahead. So far, the crooks weren't anywhere close. Lieutenant Blake had chosen an insertion point a fair distance away from the alleged drug node in a sewer junction.

"How did you know where the bad guys will be, Mister Blake?" Blossom asked her friend over the radio to fill in the void as they continued floating forward, making sure to whisper her inquest to avoid any chance of being discovered.

"Your friends in the police tipped us off. Detective Mullens and his task force. He's busy elsewhere, so he left this one to us," Blake replied. "He found out about the drugs here from a cultist he arrested."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Townsville Police Department Headquarters.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1755.**

Beep… Beep… Beep… Detective Mullens' desk phone rang as if he had been hung up when he was put on hold pending a transfer to the USDO's research department. After weeks and months of no results from the TPD's own forensic department, Garrett Mullens had turned to the USDO for their superior scientific facilities and personnel to uncover what 'His Secret' was all about. He'd sent them a sample of the drug to them a few days ago, and although he expected them to take longer to analyze the dope, he decided to call them anyway. As brutal and out-of-the-water as the USDO were, they had built themselves a reputation for being efficient and way ahead of the tech and science game if nothing else.

"Hello? Doctor Vanum, USDO Research Department. How can I help?" the man on the other end of the line said.

"This is lieutenant Mullens of the TPD. Did you receive my samples?" he asked immediately - no bullshit, no beating around the bush. He wasn't going to wait any longer after wasting months on a wild goose chase with the TPD's forensics experts.

"Yes, and it's quite remarkable. I'm quite frankly surprised that anyone outside the USDO could have concocted such a chemical," the doctor on the other end said.

"What are you talking about? What do you mean?" Mullens asked. 'Now that's interesting,' he thought. In a way, he'd expected this. It couldn't be that the entire TPD's staff of forensics experts were inept. It had something to do with the drug itself, how it was the next level in the escalating drug war in Townsville - if the escalation in the use of bioweapons (perhaps in response to the USDO's Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup) and the crime waves weren't bad enough.

"While I haven't truly identified the drugs you sent me, I've seen its structure and chemical properties before. It bears some resemblance to the same thing that gave Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup their enhanced abilities," Doctor Vanum explained.

"And can you tell me exactly what gave those kids their abilities?" Detective Mullens asked.

"It's classified information. But if the drugs you sent me is anything like the stuff used in the Girls, then they'd likely enhance an individual and their performance in all areas. There's one key difference though. The stuff used to create The Three aren't drugs – as in recreational or performance drugs? But what you sent me - 'His Secret', was it? It contains additives that would make it even more potent than any known street drugs. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you. I'm not exactly the go-to expert when it comes to the chemical," Doctor Vanum explained.

"Then is there a go-to expert I can speak to?" Detective Mullens asked.

"There is one person. My former boss. He's the Girls' 'father'," Doctor Vanum said, and he'd kept the sarcasm minimal to avoid blowing the professor's cover story.

"You talking about Professor Utonium?" Mullens asked. He didn't expect to run into him so soon, nor did he want to. They didn't exactly part on the best of terms and he thought that he'd better stay away for a while – at least until he was sure the professor had cooled off.

"Yes. I've consulted him about the drug not too long ago actually. Hours ago, in fact. I'll transfer you over to him now," Doctor Vanum said.

"Wait-" the detective tried to stop him but it was too late. The doctor's voice was soon replaced by a steady ringtone. "Damn it."

"Hello?" it was Professor Utonium, the father of The Three himself. Detective Mullens would be lying if he wasn't intimidated himself – his children were hurt multiple times on his watch, and he knew how fathers could be when their children were hurt. The worst part was that he was helpless to stop it. It was either the Girls or his men. The Girls could take hundreds of bullets to the head and still come out fine, while a single bullet at the wrong place and the wrong time could end any of his men. Sure, he felt guilty whenever the Girls were wounded, but it was better than destroying families by allowing good men and women to die when there was an alternative.

He couldn't help but wonder, however, how the Girls and their family had gotten to such a state – being put in the forefront of Townsville's war against crime in such a way that law enforcement had become so integral in their family affairs. He knew from personal experience that it wasn't something any sane, normal family would want.

"This is Detective Mullens," he said.

"What is it now?" the professor said, sounding as if he was offended. "Did something happen to the Girls again?"

"No, I've been transferred to you, actually, by Doctor Vanum," the detective said. "It's about the drug known as His Secret. He said you'd know more about it."

"Oh, that. I've seen the mail sent to me through the USDO internetwork," the professor said, though his tone hadn't changed. "I'm sure my colleague has probably mentioned this, but the drug you sent me is very similar to the chemical that enhanced my Girls. But that's not all. His Secret is actually considerably more advanced than what I've been able to create. It's impossible for anyone, even the Foundation or Institute, to create the chemical. I've seen the chemicals it has been bonded with, and it's as if it has been made specifically to enhance a regular individual without introducing the usual psychological and medical side effects – something I've failed to achieve even with my brilliant staff and cutting edge lab equipment. I can't even venture to guess who this person or what his affiliation is."

"And we've been waging war against this person for over a month," the detective deduced.

"My Girls have been waging war against this person without knowing it," the professor said with a vaguely accusative tone. "They've been fighting under your charge from time to time."

"Professor Utonium, I realize that it hasn't been easy for the Girls and I'm truly sorry but-" Mullens tried to explain himself, but the professor had cut in before he could.

"No, I… ur… I know I can be harsh with… everyone, practically, but…" the professor had rambled unexpectedly. The sudden change of tone was jarring enough to leave Mullens confused.

"I understand. I'm a father too," Mullens said. "And my daughter's in the force. Just turned detective last month."

"It's killing me. I see them coming home with blood everywhere, their bodies were torn up – I had to sew them up on a daily basis like- like mishandled dolls and the fact that it's becoming routine… it's not right," the professor rambled on. Mullens could sense that the man was reduced nearly to tears.

"Jesus, prof. I don't know what to say-" in all his time as the bearer of bad news, being the survivor of countless police operations in a city as vile as Townsville, he had never had to deal with something as heartbreaking as the Girls' situation. When good men and women die in the line of duty, they had died having lived a life, a childhood, knowing what they'd signed up for, and knowing that they were doing good. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, on the other hand, were just little kids - if what the USDO spokesmen said were true, merely 5 years of age when they were thrust into the seedy underworld of crime. They didn't even know the first thing when it came to what they were getting into, and by dint of their enhanced abilities, had made a huge difference anyway, albeit at a very high cost. If they had any childhood to speak of, it was coming to an end, too many years sooner than it should.

"Just get them out of your operations alive - I know it's all I can ask, for now, what with all the… SHIT that's been going on in this crazy town," the professor had continued on the phone, his voice shuddering. "I just need them alive because I've figured something out for them to live their lives as they should."

"You have my word," Detective Mullens promised. "The Girls - I haven't said this to you, but they've changed me. They may be spending everyday knee-deep in the town's miring, hateful muck, but it's as if they're made of sugar, spice, and everything nice like that song my old lady used to sing to Olivia. I know for a fact that they've done the same thing for others too."

"Thank you. I'm sorry that we've gotten off-track. I can't help being sentimental," the professor apologized.

"You have every right to be," Mullens said.

"Okay… Alright…" the professor sounded like he was having difficulty keeping a straight face or a straight voice, in the case of a telephone conversation, but he was eventually able to swallow his emotions down after taking a few deep breaths. "The- the drugs. They aren't just capable of enhancing an individual. They are capable of stimulating the central nervous system of a person, including the pleasure center of the brain. Risk-reward gets rewired. The compounds bound to the drug's central chemical are reminiscent of Methamphetamine and offers similar 'benefits' such as heightened energy levels and awareness. But there are other lesser-known compounds bonded to the chemical too. If I'm reading Vanum's report right, they increase aggression and suppresses certain parts of the brain, inducing acute psychopathy. And that's just the beginning - I haven't gone into the worst side effects it could possibly have, and the central chemical - I'll just call it Chemical Y - ensures that the effects linger far longer than the regular street drugs and since it's a chemical of the same type as the kind used in… my children's… urm… ascendance, it will physically linger in the consumer's body indefinitely, like radioactive substances with incredibly long half-lives, except chemicals like these have half-lives stretching into the eons."

Then there was a pause as if the professor was thinking, or unsure of himself. It'd stretched on for seconds, then half a minute, until the detective was sure that the professor suspected something.

"Professor?" Detective Mullens prompted the man. "Are you having one of those genius epiphanies or something?"

"No- Nothing. Just a wild thought. Something stupidly improbable. I'm sure it's just my paternal instincts going haywire," the professor replied.

"If there's one thing I learn from a lifetime of parenting, it's to trust your paternal instincts," the detective said.

"No, it's nothing," the professor insisted. "I'm going to further analyze the drugs you sent to Doctor Vanum, perhaps order them into my lab for testing. I'll let you know if I have anything more."


	42. Chapter 37: In the Shadows (Part 4)

**Chapter 37: In the Shadows (Part 4)**

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Logger Street.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1802.**

When Blossom had finally seen the bad guys through the walls of the sewers using her x-ray vision, she didn't expect to encounter more cultists. She hated dealing with them - they were so much harder to take down than the regular crooks. There were about twenty of them, and they were accompanied by some poorly dressed people. Hobos and the destitute in the cultists' employ, from the looks of it.

"Mister Blake, what do we do?" Blossom whispered her question to the USDO agent over the radio. They were just a bend and a short stretch of sewage tunnels away from the baddies.

"Hold up. Wait until I give you the go," Mister Blake said over the radio. The Girls had forged far ahead of Blake and his detail. Being small and capable of hovering, they were easily able to maneuver in the tight underground silently while the USDO soldiers couldn't even walk briskly without making a lot of sloshing noise and audible, echoing footsteps.

Despite the relatively easy difficulty of the operation, Blossom was intimidated because of exhaustion; she had fought more crime in the past two days than the entire month of January, and it was draining. Her Dad had cautioned her about exhaustion, that there was a limit to her superpowers and she'd need to rest and recharge to keep it working, or it'd be post-Highway-13 all over again. It didn't feel like it would happen again until now when it was as if the entire city's criminals had conspired to wear her out…

"We're right behind you – stay safe, Girls. Now go!" Mister Blake gave them the green light. Buttercup could hear their footsteps and water displacement using her enhanced hearing, though she didn't care to inform Blossom about it for fear of revealing her secret power – she'd been hiding her acute hearing ever since discovering it, and it'd been very useful so far for finding out things, such as the fact that Daddy thought that she was 'messed up inside', which she took to mean that Daddy no longer loved her. By extension, she thought that Blossom and Bubbles probably felt the same, since it was Dad who told them everything.

"Bubbles, Buttercup, together now!" Blossom ordered and flew around the corner. Buttercup was slow to follow. Unbeknownst to Blossom, Bubbles wasn't budging at all. Looking back the way they came, she saw no USDO soldiers, no Mister Blake. As the bad guys started shouting and screaming, Bubbles scurried into a corner, behind a huge concrete tube pouring some brownish gunk and dirty-green fluid out, and pulled a pair of syringes out. Pulling aside the Velcro strap securing her Kevlar arm guard, she stabbed herself with the syringe and injected herself with the drug. She could immediately feel the effects coming on. Returning the expended syringe into her pouch, she applied the second syringe – and that had given her what she needed – no pain, no fear, only pleasure, and false courage.

There was unbound rage, what used to come in tiny spurts on demand, but had become the rule rather than the exception. She moaned and laughed as the poison coursed through her veins.

As soon as she returned the syringe into her pouch, white beams from torchlights had appeared around the corner from where they passed. Mister Blake and friends! Bubbles kicked herself up into a high flying position and darted away before they could see her.

Blossom had to commence the fight on her own. She opened it by firing several heat beams at the closest cultists, before dropping into cover behind a crate full of drugs as the cultists returned fire. Looking behind her, she saw nothing. Nothing! Bubbles and Buttercup should have been bringing up the rear! And when Buttercup streaked into the arena of battle belatedly, she wasn't relieved at all. It felt as if the team – her team, was falling apart.

Buttercup had executed her own opening if it wasn't clear enough that there was a distance between them now. Firing her MP5 on full auto, she'd aimed it at the legs of her enemies, dropping a good number of them. Blossom didn't like it one bit – she had seen how Buttercup had done it. Most of her victims were hit with more than a bullet which was far more than necessary. She knew first hand how painful getting shot was – and knew from how normal people would bleed that it was much worse for them. When Buttercup got into cover behind a box near hers, she'd avoided looking at her. It was as if she was deliberately driving a wedge between them.

And Bubbles was still missing.

Everything was falling apart. Why? Blossom couldn't understand why her sisters couldn't be more like her.

Peeking above her box of illegal drugs, Blossom saw the group she was fighting splintering. The workers serving the cultists were running away down a tunnel, and some of the cultists took another path. The others had opted to stay and fight - and they happened to be the glowing-eyed ones. Shooting some of them in the legs didn't deter them from fighting back at all - those who could, stood up again. The others raised their guns where they were, either sitting or lying on the ground.

"Mister Blake, some of them are running away!" Blossom reported over the radio. "Will there be someone around to catch them?"

"No, Blossom, we're it," Agent Blake said over the radio. "I'm coming up now. I need the three of you to chase the runners down, over."

That meant splitting up. The reason why Blossom had been ordering that they fly in together was that she had to watch her sisters - they were both just as likely to kill now, which saddened her. How did it come to such a state? If she split the gang up, it would mean that they could kill again. But they had to - the criminals had scattered. The only upside was that she could supervise one of them.

As Blossom was panicking while considering her options, Bubbles had flown in, her eyes redder than ever.

"Bubbles!" Blossom shouted to gain her attention, but her BerXerker-ed sister hadn't even noticed her. She'd flown right into a cultist with an automatic rifle nearly instantly, fist-first, sending him flying across the sewer junction. She turned to her other sister instead: "Buttercup. Hey, Buttercup!"

"What!?" Buttercup shot back, glaring at her, clearly still mad at her for the many wrongs dealt to her.

"I need you to go down that tunnel," Blossom pointed at the one where all the workers had gone. "And stop the bad guys from running away. No killing! Okay?"

Buttercup answered her with a continued, sustained glare into her eyes. Without another word, she jumped high up and flew off in the direction of the drug workers, leaving behind only a streak of green light as defiant as the little girl they came from.

When Buttercup was gone, Blossom jumped into action, running into a cult champion with a Duranium falx who tried to swing her weapon at her, but Blossom had seized it mid-swing with a wince, the blade cutting into her palm, and punched out the cultist several times in the face, enough to gain control of the falx. The enhanced little girl tossed it into the murky water where it was unlikely to be found in the heat of battle before flying up to Bubbles, who was savaging a downed cultist and pulling her aside by an arm.

Bubbles was able to free herself from Blossom easily – before swiping at her impulsively, putting several gashes in Blossom's face.

"What is it now, Bloss!?" Bubbles snapped at Blossom, annoyed that she had been stopped in the middle of her raging. "Can't you see I'm busy!"

"We need to chase the running men!" Blossom reasoned.

"Do it yourself, sis! You're the smart one!" Bubbles retorted unthinkingly before pushing Blossom away, and a fair distance away too, such that she'd hit a wall, cracking it, and slid down into the sewer waters. In the meantime, Bubbles had jumped right back into the thick of it, ignoring bullets pelting her as if they were rubber bands, and delivering a punch into the shooter so powerful it'd sent him flipping a semi-circle before landing on his back, cracking his skull on the concrete floor.

All while Blossom watched. All while her back was hurting from being hurled into curved concrete masonry. Her lips trembled as she choked back tears from how Bubbles had callously thrown her aside and hurt her. How she no longer listened to her where previously, she was able to get a hold of herself eventually.

'You deserve this, Blossom,' she couldn't help but think to herself. 'You've hurt her and she's hurting you now.'

Never had she been so unsure of what to do. She couldn't help but let the panic and anxiety in her take control, as she knew that for every second she waited, she was letting the bad guys get away. At the same time, Bubbles had sonic-screamed at whatever cultists remained, blowing them away as they bled from their ears and eyes.

The bad guys were getting away. She couldn't stop Bubbles now, she decided, and so she darted away into the tunnel beside Buttercup's, unable to help but weep as she knew that she had lost control of her sisters (and it was all her own fault) and lots of people were going to get hurt because of it.

Just in time, Agent Blake and his team came charging into the sewer junction. Cultists who were struck down by the Girls were stubbornly getting up again, but the USDO operatives made short work of them by knocking them down with gunstocks and batons and restraining them for cuffing, after shooting down those who were stubbornly still shooting before Bubbles could get to them.

Agent Blake had inadvertently given them a better chance at living - by this point, Bubbles was more lethal than getting shot with high-powered military-grade weapons.

With no one left to fight, Bubbles let herself drop to her feet, panting from the excess adrenaline in her blood. She was spattered all over with blood, Blake could tell even without her turning. But when she did, she looked even worse.

Her eyes were still glowing bright, hellish red, and blood had been flowing from her eyes like tears after she had used her sonic scream.

"Bubbles? Are you alright?" Agent Blake asked, worried and a little afraid of what had become of Bubbles. From his perspective, things had changed drastically because of his absence. Bubbles had changed in a blink of an eye.

"Mister Blake!" Bubbles had greeted him, but she sounded nothing like the Bubbles he knew. Her voice was rough, rougher than even Buttercup's tomboyish raspy voice, and the look on her face was far from innocent, reminding him somehow of Captain Butch. "Are you here to fight me too!?"

And she sounded as if she was confused about which side she was on.

"Bubbles, we're friends," Blake reminded her and thought it odd that she needed reminding. Bubbles said nothing to that and had continued panting, her fists balled up, still. She glared at him as though she was still deciding if he was friend or foe. The newer guys in his team were on edge. Blake signaled for his team to keep their guns down, for fear of agitating the now-changed Bubbles. "Are you alright?"

"F-friends…" Bubbles muttered as if the word was new to her. She alternated between gritting her teeth and relaxing her jaws.

"Yes, Bubbles. Remember me?" Sergeant Rutherland came forward and said. He was a PTF soldier who had developed a friendship quickly with the sweetest of The Three even though they couldn't spend much time together. This was despite his reputation even among other Vietnam veterans as that 'scary black dude' who'd been through the deepest, darkest level of hell in Vietnam and returned to tell the tale – except he didn't do much of that. Rumor had it that he'd fought against the original first three recipients of Chemical A and came out traumatized as the sole survivor - without killing them. Turned out that all it took was Bubbles to get him to open up. "We used to play together."

"And what about me, you remember me?" Sergeant Holliday came forward next. A pale-looking man, he had the look of a stone-cold killer, as a Powerpuff Task Force soldier should have, but his expression was something else. "I used to cook for you. You reminded me of how much I loved cooking."

Bubbles stepped forward, looking like she needed a closer look as if she could barely even recognize them even though it hadn't been long since they last met - as if she would just kill them when she couldn't remember in time who they were.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Logger Street.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1809.**

The cultists – what remained of the sewer detail anyway – had tried to run and disappear, but there was no running from a bioweapon like Blossom, who, at top speed, was about as fast as a propeller plane.

She was able to catch up with them within seconds, and even fly ahead to land right in front of them before they even realize it, with her submachinegun drawn, splashing wastewater and assorted natural and artificial trash about in her rough landing.

"Give up or I'll make you!" Blossom warned the cultists with her MP5 out and her standard line. Looking at the eyes of the cultists she halted, she noticed that their eyes were natural-colored. They were the weaker ones, ones that would go down easily. One by one, they started dropping their weapons, mostly guns, and once they did, she breathed easy.

Her concern for her sisters returned after that. She thought she heard gunshots back in the sewage junction where the group was camped. Buttercup was down in a sewage tunnel right beside hers. While in most cases, sewage tunnels did not run alongside by side, Blossom thought that they would in her naivety. Hoping to find Buttercup, she looked through the wall of her sewage tunnels in an attempt to do so.

And found that her fears were realized.


	43. Chapter 38: In the Shadows (Part 5)

**Chapter 38: In the Shadows (Part 5)**

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Logger Street.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1811.**

Buttercup had gone after the cult workers with the intention of disobeying Blossom. There was simply no reason to listen to her anymore. Her previous murder of the cultist woman and attempted infanticide of the cult baby was exposed, and from what she'd heard, her family had thought of her as being 'messed up' and 'sick' inside. They hated her, she knew. She had lost everything, including all of which she had worked for.

Mere minutes ago, when she came within range of the closest worker, she'd fired a laser beam at him, and it wasn't just a warning shot or a deterring fire. She'd bisected him by the waist, leaving him to crawl with just his arms, though he wouldn't get far and Buttercup knew it. When she got up to point-blank range, she beheaded another with her laser before punching another runner in the skull so hard that it shattered, and the grey matter underneath turned to mush as the man collapsed in a heap.

A couple of them had turned around to fight using crowbars - she thought their effort was laughable. When one of them took a swing at her, she grabbed the weapon mid-swing - it stung a little, but she knew it wouldn't even scratch her. Wrenching the weapon out of the man's grasp, she impaled him in the eye with the prying side of the crowbar, the metal tool exiting through the other side of his skull.

In the meantime, she felt a sting in her side - the other worker had struck her there. She reciprocated by giving him a left hook hard enough to break his neck. He fell, losing all control of his body. But he was alive - Buttercup knew from his mewling and begging. It wasn't something she would stand for, so she lifted him by the collar and pushed his face into the murky water, finding pleasure in drowning him in the filth of the city.

But much to her chagrin, she knew that she couldn't watch him drown slowly in the piss and crap from the city. There were others, and they were getting away, so she left the paralyzed man face-down in the refuse water to drown by his lonesome. In her reverie, she had forgotten all about Blossom and Dad and the rest of her family. With a wide grin on her face, she launched into a flying kick at another runner, breaking his spine in two and killing him instantly by severe trauma. Grabbing another man by the head, she slammed him against the wall so hard that his head was partly flattened. He fell a gurgling mess, his corpse twitching even after death.

Three more. She took one of them down by laser drill, blowing a hole in his chest larger than her fist. She then flew into the second with a fist in the small of his back, snapping bones, causing him to fall and slide in the muck. Jumping on the back of the last man, she pulled him up and hung him by her arms, giving the filthy hobo worker his final embrace as he twitched and gasped in vain for lack of air. She gave him a final squeeze and heard his throat shatter and his neck break, but at least the twitching stopped.

Dropping the man she hung, Buttercup looked around her. She'd heard scuffling. One of them was still alive. The man who she'd broken the back of. He was trying to crawl away. She thought that he was like an animal - like the ones she'd killed in secret back in January. She remembered a bird she'd chased and struck down in the backyard while no one was looking. She'd broken its back but it'd tried to crawl away with just its head and beak dragging along the snowy floor. She thought it was fun, and she was reliving the moment now, except better.

And without her knowing it, Blossom was watching her. She hadn't seen the whole thing, but she had seen enough to know that Buttercup had killed on purpose, defying Dad and her, throwing the family away for… what? Blossom could never understand Buttercup's compulsion to kill, except through Dad's words, that she could not feel as much as her, and she was sick and messed up inside.

And Buttercup had continued to do so even when the runners she pursued were down to just one half-paralyzed man. Blossom wanted to help, to stop her insane sister from hurting the poor worker more, but before her stood a group of cultists she had to guard. She could just barely hear Agent Blake talking to Bubbles. She could hear their voice echoing through the tunnels. Bubbles, at this time, would still be trying to calm down from her BerXerker power, which Blossom realized was more curse than a blessing. Blake was this detained.

And that meant she had to watch Buttercup mutilate the hobo. She'd tried shouting and screaming at Buttercup even as she was breaking the man's fingers one at a time, starting from the pinkie, but she wasn't Bubbles – her voice would not carry nor defy the laws of physics. It couldn't have reached the parallel tunnel Buttercup was in.

"You seem disheartened, Blossom," one of the cultists said. It didn't sound like a taunt at all. It sounded far too sincere for her liking.

"You poor, misguided thing," another cultist said, just as frank, no tricks pulled.

"Join the Master and all will be clear," yet another cultist offered.

"I don't want to hear it!" Blossom yelled at them.

"Join Him and you need not be sad any longer," another cultist continued saying anyway.

"Shut up!" Blossom cried.

"Blossom?" Agent Blake shouted from a long way off, but his voice was loud and the underground sewers confined. Blossom could hear the steady beating of bootsteps coming closer to her, barely audible at first before becoming louder.

"I'm here!" Blossom called out to her friend. "There are lots of them but they gave up!"

"Blossom," one of them actually tried to catch her attention, singing her name like it was music. A woman. Black hair and brown eyes. She didn't look local. "Blossom."

"What?" and she fell for it.

"Don't you remember who you really are? Can you not see what you really are?" the cultist said cryptically.

"What do you mean?" Blossom asked, genuinely curious. She always had a soft spot for mysteries. She always had the need to know.

"You are a shadowkin, Blossom," the cultist said with some kind of an Eastern European accent. "The human tongue does not do the name of your divine kind justice, but you are a goddess among men – you deserve more than to be their slave and… what's your supposed father's name? His pet and lapdog."

"Don't talk like that about my Dad and me again," Blossom warned the cultist, feeling her rage returning – she was practically shivering with it. Her MP5 was rattling.

"He doesn't deserve your love for what he's done to you," the lady cultist continued regardless, unafraid of the tough front Blossom was putting up. "Corrupting you, making you weak and unambitious. You are not your shell…"

"Yes, you are more. He should be serving you instead," another cultist, a man, added.

"Shut up!" Blossom screeched at the lady cultist, pointing her gun at the man before shifting it to the cult lady. Instead of cowering in fear, the cultist put out her arms instead.

"Yes… yes… please," the woman begged with a crazy smile on her face. "If this is how you will realize your true destiny! Please!"

"Blossom?" Agent Blake called after the enhanced little girl, much closer this time. His team had finally reached her, and when they did, they immediately slammed the cultists against the sewer walls to cuff them. Blossom, however, looked like she was stuck in place, shaking with fury. She hated it whenever anyone spoke poorly about her Dad. But what the cultists were saying - that she was something else entirely - did things to her imagination, and now she couldn't stop thinking about it. "Are you alright there, buddy?"

When she felt a hand on her shoulder, it was as if she'd woken up. Turning to Blake, she studied him, then her surroundings. Everything seemed well again - her friends, all familiar faces from a simpler time - were there to make it all better by taking away the demons… demons she never knew she had.

"What happened to Bubbles?" Blossom asked. She had to pull herself away from her own problems. She had to - Bubbles was more important. Buttercup too.

"She's back there, resting. She was going wild, but I think she's calmed down enough," Agent Blake said. "What happened to her? Why were her eyes all red and bloody?"

"It's her new power. Dad called it BerXerker. It makes her really angry and out of control," Blossom explained.

"When did it appear?" Blake asked.

"When we fought Naga in the movies," Blossom answered. Blake found it surprising - he was there in the Silver Age Cineplex, but he might have missed it, he thought. Come to think of it, it'd explained Naga's defeat and the gore in the movies. It sure explained the gore in the sewer junction. Bubbles had done a number, killed quite a few before he was able to stop her.

Blossom stared through the wall of the sewers at Buttercup. By now, it was too late to save her last victim. She was busy dismembering the body, hiding pieces of it here and there where she thought no one would find them.

Agent Blake noticed what she had been doing. He knew full well, too, that she could see past walls. He could just about see the faint vortexes appearing before her glowing pink eyes.

"What is it, sport?" Agent Blake asked.

"It's Buttercup," Blossom said, her voice cracking from being upset. "She's killing people again. Why can't she be normal and nice and sweet like you? And Bubbles? Before she…"

Agent Blake smiled, but it was faint and it didn't last. He wasn't much of a smiling man to begin with anyway, but the situation seemed bad that he just couldn't. From his perspective, it was as if things had taken a nosedive since his left.

"Come on, why don't you go ahead and get your tough cookie sister and I'll catch up with you?" Blake offered as he stroked her head affectionately. He missed the old days, too, when he got to substitute Professor Utonium as her caretaker for a few days. He had since fallen in love with the idea of having a family and kids. He'd since been busy trying to make a life for himself whenever he wasn't on duty, stuck with a girlfriend he'd found in the city where before, he had a series of girlfriends and was proud of it. He intended to pursue marriage and having kids before he became too old for it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Logger Street.**

**16 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1816.**

When Blossom was flying to Buttercup's tunnel, she'd encountered Bubbles back in the sewer junction along the way. She was sitting on the floor, a raised part of the sewers that wasn't slick with urine and dirtied by feces. For some reason, she'd avoided sitting on the crates the cultists had hauled into the sewers - they seemed like better seats than the floor.

Unsure of what to say to Bubbles, she flew past her without notifying her of her presence and right into Buttercup's tunnel. It was as if she could hear her heart thumping and echoing in the tunnels. The last time she had tattled on Buttercup, her very own sister, ever the wayward one, had tried to break her neck. She remembered how unpredictable Buttercup was - before this, she had threatened to break her arm if she didn't hand over leadership to her. Shortly after their first operation in Townsville Central Bank, she had tried to strangle her and even before that, she'd threatened Bubbles with bodily harm in the cinema when she wouldn't give up the seat next to Daddy.

What would Buttercup do next? Blossom didn't want to find out, so she took her time, knowing that Buttercup was trying to hide the bodies, in order to give her the time to do it. When enough time had passed, she flew up to her, ignoring the bodies that Buttercup hadn't been able to hide regardless of her speed.

When Blossom had found her, she was washing her hands of blood with the cleanest stream of water she could find, which wasn't saying much.

"Are you okay, Buttercup?" Blossom asked while Buttercup still had her back turned. Startled, the latter girl turned around.

"Why do you even care?" Buttercup said with her eyes turned away from her. She acted as if she was more interested in herself as she was brushing muck off of her uniform and gear, but Blossom knew that Buttercup was paying attention to her - she had to. Blossom did not reply to this. It was upsetting that Buttercup was speaking that way to her where they used to have conversations about… Buttercup's obsessions mainly. Although they weren't all that interesting to her nor did they last long, at least there seemed to be a connection between them.

"Where are the runners, Buttercup?" Blossom questioned Buttercup, knowing full well where the runners were. Some of them had been torn to shreds and stuffed up pipes and down chutes leading to the lower parts of the sewers. Others were more poorly hidden, just laid down along the sides of the waste stream.

"They were too fast, okay?" Buttercup lied. Blossom tried not to look at her wrongly, but the absurdity of her lie was too great. Picking up on this, Buttercup continued to weave her story: "They must have gone into those holes in the walls before I could get them - those cowards…"

Blossom, of course, knew that she was lying. She had seen what her sister had done to those poor people (who were literally poor). Because of what she did the last time, she felt the need to avoid a confrontation with her from now on.

"I believe you," Blossom lied.

"You do?" Buttercup couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her sister. She was rarely this trusting to her, and for good reason.

"Yes. Of course," Blossom said. She hated lying, even if it was for a good cause. Hated it so much that her eyes began swimming in tears.

"What's with you?" Buttercup said as she noticed her glorious leader sister becoming emotional. It seemed to her as if it was coming out of the blue.

"Nothing," the red-haired one evaded. But she couldn't help but feel sorry for Buttercup, now that she had done her wrong by lying to her - but there was always more. The fact that her sister was 'sick inside' came to mind. It was sad whenever she thought about it. Moving towards Buttercup, Blossom hugged her while Buttercup had put up her hands defensively. As a result, her arms were trapped between them.

"Hey, what gives!?" Buttercup yelped, surprised. "What are you doing?"

Blossom held on tightly. It was all too upsetting. As Buttercup struggled, she felt a shiver traveling down her spine, from that silver lining in her brain, that connection between her and her sisters.

Sadness and pain. It was unbearable, even though she had rarely felt such a thing.

Buttercup stopped struggling. Pulling her arms out from between them, she returned the hug, confused as to what she was feeling, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Blossom said.

"For what?" Buttercup replied, still unsure of what had set off Blossom.

"I'm just sorry," Blossom said, keeping the actual reason for her sadness from her wayward sister.

She was sorry, because she was going to have to tell her Dad about her again, and this time, she could sense that Daddy just wasn't going to go easy on Buttercup anymore. Those literally poor people didn't look like criminals. They didn't even have any real weapons. Blossom had seen it all through the wall. She had seen how scared they were before they ran. They looked more like children who had been caught doing something they shouldn't - and they had no choice in the matter. Like children made to do something by bullies. Blossom had seen it before in the schoolyard before Miss Keane put a stop to it.

By the time Blake reached them, Blossom and Buttercup were already flying back towards the sewer junction, hand-in-hand, which was a rare sight. The soldiers stopped. Blake smiled. The Girls looked lovely this way. If only Bubbles was in the picture too and not all pale and shivering and covered in blood while sitting alone on the filthy floor of the sewers. It would have been perfect that way.


	44. Chapter 39: The Final Wrong

**Chapter 39: The Final Wrong**

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**17 FEB (Friday) 1989. 0821.**

The professor waved Blossom and Bubbles goodbye as they made their way on foot into Pokey Oaks Kindergarten. Buttercup, however, was not with them. Not this time. When two of his kids disappeared into the school building, he rested his head against the steering wheel. The past couple of weeks had been stressful, and yesterday was just plain distressful, but that was just naming one of those days. Deep down, he knew that today was going to be worse.

Blossom had delivered the bad news the previous day. Funnily enough, Bubbles losing control and killing a number of cultists wasn't it.

It was Buttercup.

'She killed lots of people in the sewers,' Blossom had tattled on her. 'And they looked helpless too. They weren't like the others with guns and scary red eyes.'

'Are you sure, Blossom?' he had asked her to make sure. In a way, he couldn't believe that Buttercup would kill again, not after what they had talked about. Buttercup sounded really contrite the last time they spoke about taking lives. When Blossom mentioned Buttercup's deeds, he was already losing confidence quickly that Buttercup was keeping her word to stay pacifistic.

He should have known that one of his three little babies wouldn't stay a perfect little angel for long. Not when she couldn't even grasp the concept.

'I saw Buttercup through the wall with my x-ray vision,' Blossom had said, still sounding horrified then. 'She wouldn't stop hurting them.'

After Blossom had said it, the professor did not pursue the matter immediately. After stitching up Bubbles and after attending to their dinner, he'd gone back down to the lab and sat behind his desk, thinking and thinking. He'd thought about things for a long time. He'd opened a drawer and picked up the picture of Eileen, his late wife, and Bloome, his late daughter, and looked at it. His eyes still misted when he saw it, and remembered what had happened that took them away from him. He rubbed his finger down Eileen's cheek before putting the picture back into his drawer and hiding it again.

He then picked up a photo frame containing a polaroid of his current family. Himself, Selicia, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. They were all squeezed in together in an arcade photo booth. He remembered where they'd taken it. The Mall, uptown, during a shopping trip when the family could actually go out together without the city going at their throats or mobbing them.

He found it surprising that his current ragtag family was still together after everything, considering how much danger they were in, not just because of the Foundation, but also because of crime in the city and even the USDO itself. It was why he'd cherished every second with them.

But the time had come when one of them might not be with them any longer. He had to test the Anti-X he had concocted on a human being sooner or later - and there were only three human beings he could test the Anti-X on. There was only so much data human cheek cells, even if they'd come from Blossom, could provide. The human body was infinitely more complex, and an infinite number of unprecedented things could happen.

He didn't know how long he'd stared at the picture. He loved all three of the Girls. Deciding between Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup was an impossible task. At least, it felt that way when he was fooling himself. The moment he found out he could put the Girls in a hierarchy, he couldn't help but weep, his tears landing on his photo of the family. What kind of a father would love one kid more than the other? He found out that he would rather risk Bubbles and Buttercup than Blossom - it was a toss-up between Bubbles and Buttercup, but even that dilemma was conquered swiftly the same way. He would rather risk Buttercup than Bubbles.

'What kind of a father am I?' Professor Utonium remembered saying to himself, reprimanding himself. 'What kind of a father chooses one baby girl over another?'

A bad father, he knew. A bad father to Buttercup. He'd even rationalized it all, telling himself that he had made the right decision because Buttercup was suffering from an incurable mental disease right from the start, that she was dangerous in her current state. There was no chance that she would just stop killing and hurting people, not with the kind of situations she had been put in - and the only way out for her was to risk her life and take away her Chemical X enhancements using the Anti-X. Even Bubbles in her current state, with her BerXerker ability going out of control once in a while, stood a better chance of coming back from it without any drastic actions taken.

For an eternity after that, he'd tried to regain his bearings. Tried to tell himself that he was just a man placed in terrible circumstances, forced to make terrible choices. He told himself that he loved Buttercup as much as Bubbles, and both Buttercup and Bubbles as much as Blossom. He repeated to himself that fact dozens of times, hundreds of times, as he lay his head down on his desk. Somewhere along the way, he'd fallen asleep, and had it not been for Selicia, he would have been there until morning.

The guilt never went away. Like a badly-swallowed pill, like a wound that needed surgical intervention, it'd stayed with him all the way, and it was just the latest addition.

"Are we going yet, Dad?" Buttercup jolted the professor out of his thoughts, irritation, and impatience in her voice. She was loud too, as she was sitting in the seat beside him. Buttercup had become cold towards him recently - he could only guess why.

This morning, Professor Utonium had decided that he would take her out for an entire day of father-daughter fun. He'd made all the arrangements, calling the school to excuse her from class, pulling strings and using up hard-won favors to get her out of her law enforcement duties for the day. He'd made it a surprise for Buttercup, announcing it while they were right at the door. He'd expected Buttercup to warm up to him, for there to be kisses and hugs, but she'd scoffed at the gesture instead. In the car, she was constantly averting her gaze and whether it was in the rear-view mirror or whenever he would turn around to look at her. Her arms would be folded in that usual Buttercup way, signifying that she was mad - at what, the professor did not know. He'd asked, twice or thrice in the car, but Buttercup had remained stubbornly silent.

"Can't you just tell me what's wrong, Buttercup?" the professor goaded her on. "I'm your Dad, we can talk about anything you want."

"You're lying," Buttercup said. Beneath that cold exterior, the professor could detect a degree of hurt. Being mentally unbalanced would not have prevented her from feeling hurt.

"Is that what this is about?" the professor guessed. "That we haven't been talking enough?"

Buttercup kept her arms folded and turned away, looking out the window. Wouldn't even deign to look at her Dad. Professor Utonium, however, could see the look on her face from the faint reflection in the window. It was still dark enough for him to do so. Her piercing eyes were easy to read. She was mad. Perhaps spiteful. Perhaps even hateful. Buttercup was a wildcard.

The professor sighed.

"Look, you don't have to tell me everything if you don't want to. Just… just let me make up for it, whatever it is, okay?" the professor offered.

"Whatever, Dad," Buttercup said dismissively. "Where are we going anyway?"

"There's a winter fair in Townsville," the professor revealed. "Captain Scott handed me the brochure from the mailman."

There wasn't a response, at least not immediately.

"Why isn't Mom coming with us?" Buttercup asked. At this point, Mom was the only person she could trust, though even Buttercup's concept of trust wasn't conventional. As far as she knew, she had never heard her talking behind her back even though she eavesdropped on her too.

"Someone has to watch out for Blossom and Bubbles," the Dad replied as he was reversing the car, looking behind him as he did. "She's sending them to Elodie Morbucks' place after dinner."

Elodie Morbucks. Given the choice, Buttercup would have considered seeing the Princess. As the sickly little girl was an outsider with no involvement in the Utonium family affairs, she considered her reliable. Buttercup could always trust Elodie to be generous with her gifts.

The only reason why she didn't kick up a fuss knowing that she wouldn't be able to go to the Princess' mansion was that she thought it might be worth it to let Dad be generous instead and give her whatever she wanted.

What Dad didn't tell her was that Mom had second thoughts about taking away her Chemical X enhancements. She'd refused to talk to him in the morning when he told her and made it damn well known that he wouldn't change his mind.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**17 FEB (Friday) 1989. 1842.**

Dinner at the Morbucks' was magnificent. Extravagant. It always was with them, and now that Blossom and Bubbles had both returned to Elodie's side, it was much more so, to the point of overcompensation. Even Bubbles' poor appetite could not make it any less tempting for her.

After a bath, with all three Girls attended to by servants, they retired to Elodie's bedroom where they would spend the night having a sleepover. It was slow-going but fun at first. They played a game of snake and ladders - Blossom and Bubbles' very first attempt at enjoying a board game, though Bubbles was a little distracted as usual. They would groom the luscious hair of dolls custom-made for such an activity, play nurses and doctors with yet more dolls - Elodie was most experienced with such a thing considering her frequent visits to the hospital.

"I think I need to go," Blossom suddenly said while they were in the middle of a 'surgery' involving a baby represented by a life-like doll. "My tummy feels terrible…"

"Annie will take you to the nearest washroom," Elodie said gracefully to one of her best friends. Blossom practically flew to the door – she wasn't kidding when she needed to go. Bubbles and Elodie were left waiting.

And Bubbles had been sweating. It had been a day since she took a shot of the fairy godmother's magic, and she was getting jittery over it. She was shaken for the entire day. Miss Keane had tried to ignore it, but she knew the teacher was wise to it. The way Elodie's eyes would flit to her before averting her gaze had told her everything she needed to know about her attention. Elodie knew. Everyone knew.

"Bubbles, are you sick?" the Princess finally asked now that they were alone. She'd put a hand on Bubbles' upper arm, which was uncovered because she was wearing a sleeveless dress, and it was slick with sweat.

"I'm! Not! Sick!" Bubbles hollered, shrugging off the Princess' hand violently. Her eyes had gone all hellish red. "Stop calling me sick!"

"I… I wasn't…" Elodie stuttered, shocked at how Bubbles had changed. "I just thought you were… were ill…" tears prickled Elodie as she tried to explain herself. It was too much that her best-best friend had shouted at her for being concerned.

It was harder and harder for Bubbles to snap out of it each time she took a shot of 'His Secret 2.0', but it wasn't as difficult this time. Elodie was her closest little girl friend – no one in her kindergarten class could fill in for her. They had some history together, and Bubbles had felt responsible for her ever since.

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles apologized, only to proceed to lie: "It's my new power. It makes me angry all the time and I couldn't help it."

"O-oh," Elodie continued crying and couldn't stop. "I-it's alright."

"I'm sorry again," Bubbles added before giving her hand a squeeze.

"I'm okay," Elodie sniffled as she tried to contain herself. "I get angry too whenever I feel really sick and sad."

"Princess?" Bubbles asked with her hands folded on her lap, as she looked down at those hands – those hands that had killed so many, and she knew that a bit insubstantial number of her victims did not deserve death, even if they were criminals.

"Hmm?" Elodie mumbled as she continued to wipe tears away.

"It's about my anger," Bubbles went ahead, but she paused after that, unsure of how to continue.

"What about it?" the Princess asked. She held Bubbles hands when she realized that Bubbles was extremely troubled. She had never seen her this way before.

"I…" Bubbles paused again, unsure if she should even say a word about her anger problem.

"You can tell me. I'm your friend," the Princess said. Bubbles whimpered and wept as the past few days came back to her. "You helped me before, and I'll help you now."

"I've been taking drugs," Bubbles blurted out, fighting through tears.

"But drugs are good right?" the Princess said. "Whenever I feel really sick, I take drugs so I'd feel better."

"I'm not taking drugs because I'm sick, Elodie," Bubbles corrected her. "I'm taking them because they helped me to fight. I can't help my sisters without them, but it's making me angry and crazy and… It's making me do things I don't want to do."

The Princess was lost at first. How could medicine ever be bad? Weren't they supposed to help people? With her, it had helped with her remission from cancer. With Bubbles, it seemed as if it was giving her mood swings. Elodie had suffered the same effects before – or at least that was what her limited experience told her. But Bubbles' eyes had gone red, shining red. It didn't look like any kind of side effect any sort of medicine could produce. But the Princess' trail of thoughts had gone cold from there onwards. She had no idea what it all meant.

"Did you talk to your doctor about it?" the Princess asked, and for some reason, Bubbles had stiffened up, as if there were terrorists in the room.

"Doctor?" Bubbles asked. What did doctors have anything to do with drugs?

"Didn't a doctor give you those drugs?" Elodie questioned. "My doctors gave me my drugs to make me feel better."

"I… don't have a doctor…" Bubbles admitted, knowing that it was making her look suspicious.

"But where did you get your drugs?" Elodie asked, the concern in her voice growing.

"I don't know…" Bubbles lied, after realizing that the growing silence between them was making her look worse, but she couldn't think of a good one for the life of her. She had never really lied before until days ago. She never liked lying, nor liars. And it was at this time that she realized that she had become something she hated.

"Maybe you should talk to your dad about it?" Elodie suggested. "I'll always talk to my daddy whenever I need help…"

Without knowing it, the Princess had made an irrefutable point, suggested a course of action that shouldn't be avoided, and Bubbles knew it. Yet, the thought of owning up to the fact that she had been abusing drugs to her father was more daunting than even facing Mojo Jojo. She knew she was wrong right from the start. She'd talked to a stranger who was certainly strange and not in any civil service uniform, and she was taking drugs - something her Dad had taken great pains to make them understand as something dangerous, like fire and guns. She'd lied and hid things from everyone, and she'd hurt and killed people.

There was no way she would come clean with her Dad - and that was the final wrong she knew she had committed.


	45. Chapter 40: Disempowerment

**Chapter 40: Disempowerment**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**17 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2018.**

The door to The House opened. The sound of laughter was evident even before it did. Professor Utonium stepped through the door, and Buttercup was sitting on his shoulder, laughing alongside him. It had been a wonderful day, and Buttercup had had so much fun that she had forgotten, at the moment, the grudge she harbored against her own Dad and her sisters.

The Townsville Winter Fair was slow-going at first. The professor had taken Buttercup to the games there, but Buttercup found them to be lame. An airsoft rifle just didn't have the same satisfying kick as the real thing, and the enhanced little girl would rather hurl people across a room than hurl balls at fake bank robbers.

But then there were the bumper cars and the teacup rides. The roller coasters managed to coax a smile out of Buttercup. There was a giant swing, and Buttercup had broken into a burst of hearty laughter after that. The melody of her innocent-sounding laughter was music to the professor's ears. It'd reminded him that Buttercup, deep inside, had always been a little girl. Beneath her law enforcement duties, beneath her hard-core exterior and the psychiatric disease that robbed her of her empathy and deepest emotions, the professor knew that his little girl was somewhere in there - and he would dig her out no matter even if he had to wear the tips of his fingers to the bone.

After the winter fair, the professor had taken Buttercup to the Townsville Zoo, to show her all the huge, majestic beasts there, animals that would appeal to her tomboyish tastes. Polar bears, lions, tigers, giant snakes like the Anaconda. There was even a bird show at the indoors aviary, and Buttercup actually complimented it by taking off after the eagles, and the audience applauded her and the eagles that were trying to keep their distance from her.

It was then that the professor learned that despite Buttercup's psychopathic outbursts, the public did not know the truth about her. From what he'd heard, only a very small minority was right on the money, while there were others who thought of her as a heroine and some who thought of her as just a general menace, but not a psycho. Some would ask to take a photo with her, and since Buttercup was in a good mood, she'd allowed it to feed her ego, though when she tire of it, she would begrudgingly make her poses and shake her fans' hands or put her arm around them with an impossible-to-miss frown on her face. She was still a hit despite her attitude. People saw her as cool that way.

As the early winter night came, they spent it on a drive-in movie, watching The Fly II, which was already on its way out of the silver screen. It wasn't a great movie and the professor was far too distracted to enjoy it, not just by how scientifically inaccurate and improbable it was, but by Buttercup's situation.

An entire day of fun had distracted her enough that she'd gone from cold as mint ice cream to sitting on his lap and reclining on him, warming up to him as though she had given him no reason for what he had to do next when they're back home.

The professor had been taking lots of pictures throughout the day. Multiple rolls of film's worth of them. And most of them were with her using her powers somehow – mostly hovering and carrying something heavy, like a seat full of bystanders, but there was this once he allowed her to discharge a laser beam so he could take a photo of that too. It was difficult to find a safe place to do that, but it was worth it, because if everything went well, Buttercup would never, ever be able to pose for those shots again.

After coming back home, the professor took his time – he knew what he had to do, and Buttercup was none the wiser. The entire day was planned to make her forget her grudges and drop her guard and it'd work perfectly. Shepherding her upstairs, he bathed her and allowed her to break whatever rules with her enhanced abilities as she wanted. Running fast in The House, flying fast into the washroom, whatever it was because she wouldn't be able to do it again for long if everything went as planned.

Then the final path began. After getting all cleaned up, Buttercup looked ready for bedtime, but the professor offered her something else.

"How about I carry you, Buttercup?" he said. "You look tired."

"That would be great, Dad," Buttercup agreed, and the professor picked her up, and held her closely. Instead of going into the Girls' room, he'd turned the other way: towards the stairs. "The last few days were tiring."

"Where are we going, Dad?" Buttercup asked, confused. Daddy had promised to spend even more time with her in her room, reading her some of the cooler bedtime stories, telling her some of the stories the security officers in the USDO had cooked up.

"I need to perform a little medical examination on you, Butterfly," the professor lied, and had kept his adopted daughter's chin on his shoulder to hide his expression from her. It was impossible to hide his emotions this time. He had no idea what could happen next. There was a possibility that he might not even see her again. "Just a small one. Can a tough fighter like you handle it?"

"It's just a little medical examination, Dad," Buttercup boasted, then yawned. "I can handle lots of criminals all at once. A little medical examination is nothing."

'Like how you handled those bums in the sewers?' the professor thought to himself but didn't let it out. The thought of Buttercup killing those beggars in the sewers was still grating at him, and that was next to her killing an unarmed woman and attempted infanticide. It was unacceptable, no matter what her reasons were.

He brought her down into the labs. There, he instructed her to get changed into her uniform and gear. He'd planned all of this. He'd brought a set of her uniform and gear down without any of the Girls realizing what he was going to do. They trusted him so utterly that he could be waving a Duranium gun in their faces and they'd still be smiling at him – even Buttercup. She might bear grudges against him, but she wouldn't expect him to really hurt her anytime soon.

When they were in the labs, Buttercup had gotten off the professor, so he led the hovering girl by hand into a corner of the lab she had rarely seen and never visited in recent memory. Last she saw, it was an old, boring place. It was all the better for what would come next.

It was different this time when she saw it. Where there was once an empty storage area, a metal table shaped like a cross, or an X, stood in the middle of it. There were machines surrounding it. An ECG, heart rate monitor. Tanks filled with some kind of gas with nozzles pointing towards the middle. A computer was hooked up to them, with wires leading in and out. There was also a tray full of medical instruments. It was intimidating even to Buttercup. She stood rooted to the ground, unwilling to go in.

The professor strolled in, his head held low, but when he turned around, he'd put on his biggest smile.

"Hop on, Buttercup," he said to her, patting the head cushion of the Duranium table. There were Duranium claws on either side of the head cushion. Cautiously, Buttercup lay herself down on the table, taking care not to bump her head against the Duranium claws. "Stretch out your arms and legs sideways, Buttercup. Like when you were playing with the snow."

Buttercup did as he asked, completely unaware of her Dad's intentions even when she had to put her wrists and ankles inside the open shackles on the arms and legs of the Duranium cross.

The professor proceeded, quickly, to secure her legs, before moving onto the arms. He then closed the claws surrounding Buttercup's head and neck and tightening them such that she could only stare straight up into the ceiling. The restraints clicked loudly and ominously. Buttercup tried moving, but her arms and legs were trapped. She was stuck in a spread-eagled position.

The professor stood before her, tears he had been holding back for a while spilling out.

"I'm sorry, Buttercup, but this is the only way," the professor cried.

"Dad? What are you doing?" Buttercup asked, panic rising in her as she struggled against her restraints. She had never been stuck in one place like this before, so she couldn't help but feel trapped. "What's happening!? Dad!"

"It's the only way, Buttercup. I'm so sorry," the professor cried again. "I'm going to have to try to remove your powers."

"Dad! No! Don't!" Buttercup screamed and cried. She tried to levitate her way out of the restraints, or even break the table away from the concrete floor, but it was secured to the foundations of The House such that she was anchored in place by the entire house. She sobbed and wailed when she realized that no amount of struggling could free her.

"It's going to be okay, Buttercup," the professor tried to comfort the little girl. He came up beside her, stroking her hair affectionately.

"Daddy… Please don't," Buttercup begged, tears flowing freely. Her Dad continued stroking her hair possessively, before pulling away. "I'm scared… Please let me go, please!"

"I can't. I'm sorry, honey," he apologized again. Unbeknownst to Buttercup, there were risks involved. Death was a possibility, one of many other unwanted possibilities. But it had to be done. It was either risk Buttercup's life for the Girls' freedom, or lose the Girls to corruption.

"Daddy's sorry," he apologized profusely, before pulling away with Buttercup still struggling against her restraints, grunting and grimacing against it. The professor stepped outside the chamber Buttercup was in, before closing the door and pressing a few buttons on a keypad outside.

"DAD! NO!" Buttercup screamed. The professor's index finger hovered over the 'execute' button. He couldn't help but hesitate. He knew the risks involved. He'd hesitated every step of the way. More than once, he'd considered just letting things be. But now, it was too late. He'd burned the bridge after crossing it by betraying Buttercup's trust in him.

The professor jabbed at the 'execute' button hard.

"NOOOO!" Buttercup yelled, her voice still clear even with the glass all around her. Anti-X was sprayed all over her form half the gas tanks in the room, through the nozzles above her, like a white rain from above.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House**

**17 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2055.**

The Duranium table room Buttercup was held in for her disempowerment was completely filled with fog when the professor discharged his Anti-X into the room. It took a while to clear, and all the while, the professor was scared. Afraid. Terrified. Buttercup had stopped screaming and crying. This was followed by a powerful discharge of a kind of green electricity shortly after. Energy had been released in the process. Through the haze and wave of sadness, the professor surmised that it could be a discharge of Chemical X energy, such that Buttercup would have little or none of it left.

But then again, whether that would matter or not would hinge on whether Buttercup survived the process. And the professor was afraid that she didn't.

When the white mist inside Buttercup's chamber had cleared itself out with the help of the ventilation system and air scrubbers, the form on the Duranium cross-table wasn't moving. He could see from the other side of the bulletproof glass that Buttercup's eyes were closed too.

"Oh God no! No no, no!" the professor cried as he went on a full-on panic mode, unlocking the door and rushing into the Duranium table room. Hurrying to Buttercup's side, he scrambled to pick up a stethoscope, accidentally knocking over some emergency surgical instruments, before roughly putting the earpieces on and searching for a heartbeat with the other end.

"Please be alive, Buttercup," the professor pleaded with his surrogate daughter – whether dead or simply unconscious, he didn't know. "Please don't leave me so soon."

With Buttercup's life on the line due to his doing no less, the professor was too panicked to even do even the basic grunt work all doctors should know by heart. He searched for a heartbeat, and couldn't find any. Sucking in his breath and hushing up, he scanned the appropriate area again, until…

Yes. There it was.

It was there, but faint. The professor measured her heart rate with a watch. It was slow too. Looking around for better instruments, he realized that, in his panic, he had forgotten that he had arranged a full suite of medical electronic equipment in the room. The ECG would have made for a better method to measure heart rate since it was divorced from the vagaries of human emotions.

Except he needed to check Buttercup's other vital signs. Skipping the ECG, he put a finger under her nostrils and confirmed that she was still breathing, if not as strongly. Taking a penlight out of his breast pocket, he opened one of her eyelids – but what he saw there didn't need a penlight to reveal. The green bioluminescence in her eye was gone. He checked her other eye. Same thing.

Both her eyes were dark brown underneath that glow, but they weren't entirely so, unlike Buttercup's genetic source, Kimiko Scarlett Ito. There were speckles of bright green scattered throughout her pupils, likely due to exposure to Chemical X.

Reaching out for the tray without taking his eyes off of his dear daughter, the professor searched for the thermometer there. He couldn't find it. Looking around at the tray, he realized that it wasn't there. Thinking back, he thought it might have fallen off the tray. Bending down, he searched for it on the floor, and he found it quickly. Scattered on the tiled floor was his emergency surgical instruments and in that mess was his thermometer.

"D-dad?" he heard Buttercup whimper just as he was about to get back up. It'd hit him like a truck, hearing his Butterfly speak again. It wasn't just a wave of relief overcoming him, but fear – what would Buttercup think of him now? No matter how justified he was to disempower her, there was no telling how much a kid would understand, much less a kid like Buttercup, who was suffering from certain mental imbalances.

"P-please let me go…" Buttercup begged. The professor got back up and saw what she had become. The way she was looking at him with her non-glowing, tearful eyes had told him everything. The way her mouth hung open… He couldn't imagine what it felt like to lose over 95% of one's body strength.

"Shh… Hey… It's okay…" the professor held the little girl and comforted her. Reaching out for her shackles, he began unlocking them, first freeing her hands before letting her go and freeing her legs. "Can you sit up?"

Buttercup didn't try it immediately. Then, anemically, she tried pushing herself up into a sitting position but failed at first. She succeeded – barely – on her second try, with shivering arms that were likely taxed a hundred percent.

"I… I feel heavy…" Buttercup said. No doubt, the professor thought, it had something to do with the gear he'd gotten her to put on. With her enhanced strength gone, even the lightest of weights had become a huge burden now. The Girls had never complained about weight unless they were lifting objects by the tonnes. The Girls could walk for many hours on end without feeling the same kind of fatigue that would have reduced a normal girl to tears. Buttercup would be the first of The Three to have to contend with her natural weakness as a little child.

"I'm going to carry you and put you down, okay?" the professor said, before cradling her in his arms and lifting her off the Duranium table with a grunt. "Try standing for a minute, then walking."

Taking her out of the room, the professor set her down in the middle of an open space in the labs. He'd kept his hands under her armpits to assist her. It was like teaching a baby how to walk.

"You ready?" the professor asked. Buttercup nodded to him half-heartedly, her mind still too much of a blur to continue hating him for what he had done. Professor Utonium let go after that.

And found out that Buttercup couldn't even keep herself straight for long. After shivering from the effort for just a few seconds, she began sagging. She'd nearly fallen down had her Dad not catch her.

"It… It's too heavy, Dad," Buttercup mewled, and started crying again. The professor knew what was wrong, and it'd confirmed the results. She had become too weak to carry even her own gear, although to be fair, the USDO had outfitted her with non-standard gear that wouldn't be fit for a normal kid. There were multiple Kevlar plates on each side of her vest where even trained adults tend to carry just two in total. Her shoulders and upper arms were protected by more Kevlar plates too, as were her legs. Her entire suit was almost twice as heavy as her… and certainly far heavier than what normal children could and should carry.

"Here, let me take it off," the professor said.

The rest of the tests he'd devised had become a mere formality. He'd arranged for her to attempt to shoot her guns (without her armor). She'd remarked that her pistol was heavy and when she fired it, she'd missed by a mile as her hands were trembling as if they were diseased and the gun flew out of her hands from the recoil. She could barely even hold up her MP5 submachinegun, and when she fired it, the kickback was so strong that it'd knocked her on her butt with a yelp. The shot she fired wouldn't have hit the broad side of a barn. Attempting to use her laser vision resulted in some kind of a green electrical discharge from her eyes, some kind of feedback which Buttercup described to be as painful as getting soap in her eyes.

The professor moved to help her when it'd happened. But when he took her by the arm, Buttercup yanked it away, crying as she glared at him.

"Why did you have to take away my powers!?" she screamed at him. The professor reached for her again, only for her to dodge the effort.

"What do you think!?" the professor snapped at Buttercup. He couldn't help but be frustrated at how oblivious she was, no matter how well he knew about her psychopathy. "I've warned you many times not to kill, not to hurt people without a good reason! I've warned you and you just went and killed again in the sewers!"

Shit. He wasn't supposed to say that. The professor couldn't help but wear a shocked look on his face when he realized he had a slip of the tongue.

"Blossom told you?" Buttercup said in disbelief.

"Does it matter who told me? It's done," the professor said as he seized her by the arm and pulled her to her feet, and for the first time, Buttercup was helpless to resist - and she'd actually struggled hard but couldn't break her Dad's grip. She could only get herself free when her Dad let go. Bending down and with a hand clasping her shoulder, the professor continued: "I've taken away your powers because I want you to live a normal life. No more law enforcement, no more adult responsibilities and killing except learning and growing up. As it should be."

Assuming the Anti-X had cured Buttercup of the anti-aging effects of Chemical X.

"But I...I can't be like this!" Buttercup asserted, still fighting against the professor's grip, but she was unable to break it. "I want to fight crime!"

"No, you don't!" the professor corrected her. "Buttercup, you need to give this a try, okay?"

After running a few more tests, the professor had to escort Buttercup up to her room - without the same physical strength, she had to get used to walking all over again, and without her power of flight, which all the Girls had taken for granted since discovering them, she had to climb stairs that had become daunting. Buttercup was actually tired out by the time she got to the airlock leading up to the surface. She had to be carried to her room for the rest of the way.

Not to mention, she had fallen asleep from exhaustion halfway to her room, and when she did, it had given the professor some time to think, as he watched his little angel snoring away in bed. The other tests he'd performed had yielded surprising results. For one thing, there was still Chemical X in Buttercup's blood, just a tiny amount - about 150 ppm, which was a fraction of what it used to be. This had explained the other results. Buttercup was still resistant to damage. Steel couldn't cut her, though crude Duranium drew blood easily when it used to require multiple strokes to do the same. In theory, it also meant that Buttercup would still be locked in growth stasis as the very same Chemical X that was protecting her also had the effect of holding her present form together in its original shape, in addition to rebalancing the hormones in her blood to prevent any chance at growth. The best the professor could hope for was that instead of taking eons to grow to adulthood, Buttercup could take millenniums instead.

Selicia wouldn't approve. She hadn't approved of this right from the start. Her mouth had uttered the right words to get on his good side, but deep down, she loved Buttercup the way she was. When the professor insisted on doing this early in the day, she'd refused to come back home, and instead stayed out after delivering the Girls to the Morbucks family estate.

And now, with the kind of results he had achieved, she was sort of vindicated - Buttercup would be neither here nor there after the application of Anti-X. She would never be able to fight crime again, but neither would she truly be a normal little child, considering that she could never grow up.

And the worst part was… What he'd done to Buttercup might well be permanent.


	46. Chapter 41: Favors

Reply to Guest: The Girls' eyes did seem a little unnatural in the original source, especially Blossom's. That's what gave me that idea. Just their eyes alone lend them a lot of characterization, hence I decided to accentuate them in this universe. As for the hair color changing, I think I'll pass lol.

* * *

**Chapter 41: Favors**

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**17 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2359.**

Bubbles could not sleep, not with the jitters she had been getting. It was worse than what Dad had called 'Chemical X fatigue', worse by a mile. And it hadn't stopped for hours, even though the feeling would pass once in a while throughout the day. She'd tried to get rid of it and the suspicions that Blossom and the Princess were no doubt harboring by taking a long bath just before bedtime, but it had only succeeded as a placebo for less than an hour.

She couldn't help but blame the fairy godmother - she was supposed to look out for her - she was supposed to give her more of her magic after she'd done what she asked, but she'd received none of it last night, not for the entire day!

Sitting up, Bubbles sighed and looked around the room. She was sleeping right beside Princess, who was still holding her hand even while she was fast asleep. Blossom was opposite her. Looking at Blossom, she couldn't help but blame her for the predicament she'd found herself in, being forced to do wrong by taking drugs in order to fulfill her demand for a sister who could fight crime alongside her. Her eyes glowed hellish red the moment she thought about it - about all the things Blossom had done to her when she couldn't live up to her expectations.

So much so that she had wrapped her hands around her neck, so much so that she was fantasizing about strangling her there and then while she slept.

But then there was light coming from the window. Bubbles' eyes returned to blue, as she was distracted by the light, which she had seen several times before. It was white, and it'd come out of nowhere. Like Pavlov's dog, her mouth had gone wet as she knew what it meant. The fairy godmother had come to visit.

Flying to the window, she looked down into the gardens below Elodie's room - her room being on the third floor - and saw the fairy godmother standing there. Bubbles would have whooped with joy had she been alone. Hungrily - thirstily - she opened the window and flew down to the garden, touching down an arm's length from her benefactor.

"Hello, Bubbles," the fairy godmother greeted the twitching Bubbles, who looked as unstable as she was inside.

"I've done as you asked - please... please give it to me," Bubbles begged, coming closer to the fairy godmother.

"But why do you need it, Bubbles?" the fairy godmother asked, and Bubbles could not believe she would ask such a question. It was as if the fairy godmother was playing dumb, or jesting. One would think that a fairy godmother would know the answer to such a question.

"I don't feel good… Please…" Bubbles answered the question despite - it didn't matter what she had to do - she just had to get her next syringe of His Secret 2.0. "I need to feel good…"

The fairy godmother simply smiled when she heard Bubbles' answer.

"But isn't your reason for using my magic to help your sisters? To help people?" the fairy godmother said.

"Yes… yes… that too… please," Bubbles played along for her next fix. She tugged at the fairy godmother's skirt, like a hungry little girl, or a kid who needed to answer nature's call. "I need it - please."

"Why of course, darling," the fairy godmother said and reached into her dark blue waist bag. Bubbles' heart leaped and her breathing seized up when she did. She couldn't wait to get another hit, couldn't wait to see the gigantic bounty that she had worked hard for - the gigantic bounty she had rightfully earned-

Only for it all to fall flat when the fairy godmother pulled out only a couple of syringes. Bubbles was devastated by the underwhelming number of the drugs that she had frozen up entirely, and she had only moved to cradle the leather pouches containing her drugs when the fairy godmother pushed them unto her. It'd felt so bad that Bubbles had fallen to her knees, knowing that she had been given only just enough to have to choose between suffering from hours of withdrawal effects in order to get high during combat or to avoid the pain but miss out on the pure pleasure and combat performance injecting both of them at once could provide.

"Oh, don't you worry about that, little girl," the fairy godmother reassured the addicted little girl when she noticed her expression. She reached into her bag again and pulled out a third syringe, this one naked and larger and without a needle. "I've brought you your supper too, so you may sleep easily tonight."

The fairy godmother stuck the needle-less syringe close to Bubbles' face. She could see the dull red liquid inside. The size of the syringe looked like it could give her more than a syringe's worth, but less than the two doses needed for her to reach a peak.

Bubbles was about to drink from it when the fairy godmother pulled it back again.

"There is… one favor I need you to do for me, however… yes… yes…" the fairy godmother said. Bubbles looked up at her expectantly, pleading with her teary eyes.

"I'll do anything for you," Bubbles said. "Please give it to me…"

"Good… good… I knew I could always count on you," the fairy godmother praised the little addict. "It's only nice that you help me with one little thing or another, after everything I've done for you."

"What do I have to do?" Bubbles asked.

"Simple really. You'll just have to kill Blossom," the fairy godmother said curtly and frankly.

Despite the gnawing, dull ache throughout her entire body, Bubbles could still be taken aback by the fairy godmother's request. Blossom was her sister - even if she had abused her before. They were close, and they were still close. To kill her for more of the fairy godmother's magic wasn't preferable.

"But…" Bubbles shook her head as she cried because of the predicament she'd been put in. "She's my sister."

"Bubbles, I'm doing this for you," the fairy godmother claimed. "Have I ever given you any reason to doubt me?"

"She's my sister…" Bubbles wept. "Please don't make me…"

"Bubbles, hey…" the fairy godmother bent down to meet her gaze and stroke her chin. "I'm doing this for you. Blossom is not a good sister to you. She'd hurt you badly, I know. That is not what a sister should do. Remember what she did to you?"

"She… she tried to leave me behind. She would hit me and make me cry…" Bubbles recalled all the terrible memories - she was kind of forced to.

"Yes… yes… And she will do it again, I just know it. People don't change. Your sister is selfish – you know that, right? She's fighting crime just to feel good about herself… yes… yes… She cares nothing for you and Buttercup," the fairy godmother said. "Kill her, Bubbles, and I will continue to bless you."

Bubbles hesitated at first. To kill criminals and let some go because they were friends of the fairy godmother, she could accept… at a stretch. But to kill her own sister? But the fairy godmother's argument was compelling. In fighting crime, it wasn't inconceivable that some criminals might have to die for what they had done, and even then, many of them would be injured whenever she confronted them. Would killing Blossom be any different? What Blossom had done to her was criminal and the way she was using her and Buttercup to stroke her own ego was self-centered. But her past abuses stood out the most. Dad had mentioned things like that. 'Domestic violence', he'd called it. It wouldn't be nice and sweet, and it wouldn't be pretty, sure, but it had to be done.

It had to be done if she wanted more of the fairy godmother's magic. It had to be done.

"Yes. I'll do it. I'll kill Blossom for you," Bubbles finally agreed, and the fairy godmother pushed the large needle-less syringe closer to Bubbles' face. Bubbles opened her mouth, and the angel-like being stuck it into it before depressing the plunger and letting her drink the drug as she stroked the little girl's hair. Bubbles sucked on it, drinking the drug thirstily like a girl lost in a desert.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 0841.**

When Buttercup woke up, alone in her room, it felt as if everything was different, and everything was new. It wasn't just her compromised senses - everything seemed duller now, and she couldn't hear as well, much less listen beyond the confines of her room. Even her sense of touch felt different. It was less rich.

Yesterday was like a bad dream. A nightmare. Losing her powers? Giving it up? Not in a million years! But when Buttercup tried to hover out of her bed, she realized that yesterday was no dream.

Sitting up, she felt sluggish too. She could feel her weight most severely, unlike the world around her, and it was making her feel lazy where previously, she would be ready to jump out of bed the moment she was awake. Even sitting up required effort now - had she not been hungry or thirsty, or in need to pee, she wouldn't even have tried.

She jumped out of bed, only to do so awkwardly and landing badly, falling to her knees. Even with the carpet cushioning her fall, it'd hurt like hell and high heaven.

It didn't take long to figure out that being normal was horrible. How could Dad even stand a day of being normal? How could anyone? It was hard to imagine that there were millions of people around her who would wake up normal every day and feel fine and even cheerful.

Even her mind felt dull. Her thoughts came slower, and memories had become a little more distant - requiring effort to recall. Walking up to the door, her balance shaken as though it was her first day walking, she went to the door and reached up for the doorknob. It was difficult to turn it such that she needed to use both her hands, and she grunted with the effort.

Almost immediately after she opened the door, swinging it sluggishly, she could hear footsteps - faintly - and being unable to hear things as clear as she wanted to scare her.

Dad had appeared before her before she was ready - with her mind no longer allowed to go over the speed limit and her powers gone, she found that she couldn't be ready for anything anymore, even something as every day as seeing her Dad.

Not that she was glad to see him. She had never forgiven her Dad and at this point, she didn't think she ever would. He had, after all, taken away her powers.

"Rise and shine, Buttercup," he greeted cheerfully with a smile on his face. With his hand on her shoulder, he began guiding her to the washroom. "Today's a brand new day."

She didn't like the sound of it, but she knew she couldn't and therefore shouldn't resist. When they were in the washroom, the professor took a stool and set it up next to the sink.

"What is that?" Buttercup asked, disgusted because she knew it was probably something she would need to use from now on.

"Don't you remember?" the professor said, sickeningly cheerful, still. "You used to use it when you didn't know how to fly. You'll need it from now on whenever you use the sink or the toilet yourself. But I'll be there if you need me."

Buttercup couldn't help but grimace at the stool. She hated it already. It was like the wheelchair she was forced to use on two occasions whenever she was too badly wounded or exhausted. The stool was little more than a crutch and she was disabled by her own father. The idea of having to clamber on top of the plastic eyesore was particularly painful especially considering the fact that she used to be able to fly across the city without too much difficulty - and now navigating the washroom had become a tiring chore.

Despite hating this, Buttercup let herself be picked up and placed on the stool. She proceeded to brush her teeth, grinding the bristles of her toothbrush harder than she should. She hated it that she wouldn't be able to release her pent-up frustrations and rage by hurting and killing criminals anymore, and even more that she could only take it out on small objects as it was pathetic compared to what she used to be able to do.

At breakfast, even climbing on top of the dining chair took all her strength.

"You'll get used to it," Dad said when he saw her pushing herself up to her seat while he was cooking. "Your body is just adjusting to the lack of Chemical X. You'll grow stronger after some time. You just won't be carrying the car anymore." The professor laughed and Buttercup hated it. It was like adding salt to her wound even if her Dad didn't intend to.

By the time the pancakes were ready, Buttercup was sulking. She didn't even look at the breakfast Dad had prepared, and neither did she acknowledge the smell of the well-made breakfast; the rich scrambled eggs, the sweet maple syrup…

And Dad sat down right next to her, setting down his own plate of pancakes. Lifting a carton of milk, he poured Buttercup a tall glass of milk. The raven-haired little girl turned the other way when he looked at her with that stupid smile on his face.

"You should start eating, Buttercup," the Dad said. "You wouldn't want it to get cold. I think we're getting enough of that from the outside."

Buttercup did not even move a muscle.

"Buttercup. Hey, Buttercup," Dad continued to pester her. She felt his massive hand on her shoulder when she continued to sulk. She couldn't help but shrink away from it. Size seemed to matter more now, especially to her subconscious. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Buttercup glared at him instead, finding satisfaction in going overboard with her Dad's request. But her glare used to scare people. She knew that it used to scare her Daddy too. She found it discouraging that even her eyes had been defanged, and it wasn't just because the scary green glow was gone.

"I know you're upset about losing your powers," the Dad continued to try to convince her, not that she was willing to listen, to begin with. "But what's been going on for the past few months wasn't the life a little girl is meant to live. Little girls aren't supposed to fight crime and decide who to hurt and save. Little girls aren't supposed to kill."

Buttercup did not reply, not with her mouth. She continued to glare at Dad, putting on the kind of look that would be more fitting on the face of an incarcerated prison convict.

"Don't you start giving me that look," the Dad warned Buttercup. "I'm doing what's best for you."

"But I don't want this!" Buttercup exclaimed, jumping on her seat, looking more like a kid throwing a fit than a bioweapon that could blow up and kill. "I wanna fight crime! Why does Bubbles get to fight crime even though she killed so many!? It's not fair!"

"You killed when you were in control - she killed by accident, Buttercup!" Dad lectured, though Buttercup was more right than he'd let on. To what extent was Buttercup truly in control of herself? Bubbles' BerXerker side effect had put her on par with Buttercup.

"I don't care!" Buttercup yelled and in her anger, had knocked her cup of milk off the table. Milk and glass shards flew everywhere while the milk made a puddle on the floor.

The professor sighed when it happened. Pushing his chair back and standing up, he went over to a corner of the kitchen and picked up a broom and dustpan.

"You'll get used to this," he repeated himself as he began sweeping. "Now eat or you'll go hungry."

Sensing the futility of her resistance, Buttercup grudgingly picked up her dining knife, which felt several times heavier than the M79 grenade launcher she wielded back in the day when she still had her powers and started cutting her pancake up roughly, accidentally dropping it several times because she was still getting used to manipulating objects with her weakened and clumsy hands. She imagined it to be her Daddy's face, or Blossom's face, or Bubbles' face, and she imagined that she was mutilating them. She ended up making messy pieces of it, some of which wouldn't be easy to pick up using a fork.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 0916.**

Selicia looked into the rear-view mirror of her borrowed USDO unmarked SUV. Blossom had been trying to talk to Bubbles sporadically for the past twenty minutes or so, but Bubbles had been distant lately. She wouldn't even speak when she was spoken to, not even when her Mom was doing the talking, and neither would she acknowledge anyone.

She wouldn't even so much as look at anyone. Selicia had only just managed to make eye contact with Bubbles, and there was something wrong with her eyes. They were still pink and bloodshot as if she had never slept the previous night. As if she was diseased or something else.

"Are you okay, Bubbles?" Selicia asked, her eyes constantly flitting between the road and the rear-view mirror.

"I'm fine, Mom," Bubbles replied quickly to avoid suspicion.

"What happened to your eyes?" Selicia asked. Bubbles was shocked when she did and had to try hard not to gasp at her realization that her cover could be blown any second now. She had seen what had happened to her eyes when she was going through the motions of changing and brushing her teeth. She had put two and two together that it had something to do with the fairy godmother's magic.

"I'm… just tired, Mom. I couldn't sleep last night," Bubbles lied. She knew to do so because it wasn't the first time her eyes had become bloodshot. Previously, it had done so whenever they had to fight crime late into the night. It was the perfect lie, and Bubbles resented herself for it - but it must be done. It must be done so that she could get it done - so that she could bring justice by killing Blossom - so that she could get more of 'His Secret 2.0'.

In fact, she'd been thinking about how she could do it. She couldn't do it in Princess' room - because it meant that Elodie would know and she'd have to silence her as well. She didn't want to kill her BFF – it hadn't come to that yet. She couldn't do it in the car - she still wanted Mom to love her after all this. Where would she even put Blossom's body even if they could be alone in their room?

"You could lean on me if you want," Blossom offered Bubbles but she was ignored.

Bubbles turned away from Blossom, hating that she was being nice and offering her something that actually felt tempting.

"There's still time for you to sleep," Blossom insisted.

"No," Bubbles rejected. She knew she had to distance herself from Blossom. It would make things easier down the line.

When they reached The House, it seemed empty and quiet. Dad and Buttercup were nowhere to be found. Or at least, they were nowhere to be found in the living room.

"Girls, go to your room, there's something I need to do," Selicia said and without clarifying what she meant, she rushed off towards the airlock leading to the labs, looking worried to Blossom and Bubbles, looking like she was about to break into tears.

"Come on, Bubbles, let's go put our stuff," Blossom said as she floated towards the stairs leading up, lugging along a sling bag effortlessly. Bubbles merely grunted, her eyes drilling into Blossom's back. Had she had Blossom's heat beam or Buttercup's laser beam, she would have been tempted to make that literal.

Selicia had dropped her own duffel bag in the airlock as it was cycling. When the lab-side door opened, she bolted out of the chamber and down the stairs, a million dreadful scenarios crowding her mind.

She knew what the professor was going to do. She knew that there were risks, but she'd trusted her other half to mitigate it. Now, she was afraid that the cosmos had long been prepared to deal her another blow and make sure her happiness wouldn't last.

Sprinting down the steps, she emerged into the labs, and when she found nothing in the main hall, she ran to the corner with the Chemical X storeroom and Duranium table – only to find nothing again.

Turning around, she flew back up the stairs, shouting Buttercup and Thomas' name as if it was the last day she'd do it.

The airlock cycled once more. Even though her legs burned from the effort, Selicia forced herself to keep on going, as if chased by the psionic terror that was Blisstina herself, taking two, three steps at a time up the stairs to the second floor, then flying across the corridor until she found herself panting outside the Girls' room to find…

Her love, Thomas Upton, bending down next to Buttercup, the both of them fine and breathing, fit as a fiddle. Buttercup was sitting behind the Girls' pink round table. Blossom and Bubbles were holding her hands, though Bubbles didn't seem worried like the others. There was more of a blank look on her face.

Buttercup didn't look right the moment Selicia laid eyes on her. The amazing green glow in her eyes was gone, she looked a little pale and sickly to her and where the tomboy used to be brimming with evergreen energy, she now looked anemic, like a cancer patient who would be right at home next to the Princess in a hospital ward.

"You should be happy, Buttercup," Bubbles comforted her sister, in one of her increasingly non-existent moments of clarity. "At least you're normal now."

Bubbles had wished that she was a normal little girl for a long time. Even now, she wished that she was a normal little girl so she wouldn't have to kill Blossom.

"Don't… want… normal," Buttercup had forcibly uttered through her sobs. She looked utterly wretched, and it'd shaken Bubbles out of her own problems. She rested a hand on Buttercup's shoulder, but the latter girl slapped it away as she was bawling her eyes out.

"You won't have to fight crime anymore," Blossom added, and meant it, though one side of her was glad that she was out of the game. It meant that she could no longer kill. "And you get to play all day. We can always play together once we're like you. Dad said we're going to be like you soon - normal."

Buttercup looked up at Blossom, glaring at her, though the anger in her eyes was clouded by tears and sadness. She still hadn't forgotten what Dad had said last night, despite her poorer ability to recall things. It was all Blossom's fault - she'd tattled on her and caused Dad to forcibly remove her powers.

"You see, Buttercup? It's not bad at all – as long as you have a family, you don't need your powers," the professor said after that, though Buttercup looked far from convinced.

Selicia had never seen Buttercup that way before. She was crying and the redness of her face informed her that she had been doing it for a while.

"But I wanna fight crime…" Buttercup managed to complete her sentence miraculously. She was going to say something more - how she hated this, how she hated them all now, but she bit her lips and erred on the side of caution. She couldn't help but be more cautious, and overly so. She was vulnerable now, and she could feel every bit of it, right down to the weakened sinews of her muscles and her bones, which was held together less strongly by the thinner Chemical X in her body.

"Buttercup?" Selicia called out to her favorite.

"Mom!" Buttercup screamed as she ran up to her favorite parental figure. In her sisters' eyes, she was unbelievably slow, taking seconds to reach her where they would have taken a fraction of that at their slowest Dad-approved indoor speeds.

She'd gone up to her all tearful and vulnerable, and Selicia bent down to scoop her up. Even the way Buttercup felt was wrong – she was all clammy and hot – even feverishly so – from crying where she used to come out cool even after running through a burning building. She was shivering and soft – whether from the cold or fear, it didn't matter. The Buttercup she knew was firm and all muscles, like the hunks she used to hug.

Selicia glared at the professor. She didn't like the results, and she didn't like how he had completely ignored her wish to LEAVE SHIT BE.


	47. USDO Emergency Meeting 02181989 Trans

**USDO Emergency Meeting 02181989 Transcript**

**DOC: 18 FEB (Saturday) 1989**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Director Cliff: (Slams table) Where the hell is Professor Utonium!?

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: He's on his way, sir. It is an emergency meeting after all, and some of our security personnel aren't here yet either.

Director Cliff: Fine. Should we start with some of the minor matters first then? Yorkshire, give me something minor from the agenda of the day!

Chief Intelligence Officer Rook: How about if I make the announcement?

Director Cliff: Go right ahead.

Chief Intelligence Officer Rook: I regret that it is my first duty as Chief Intelligence Officer to inform the council that Chief Intelligence Officer Jackard was killed in the field three days ago. I will be assuming his position as of today.

Psychiatry and Social Services Department Head Alice: A regrettable loss. He had a brilliant mind, and he was more than just an intelligence agent. He should have stayed in HQ. (remorseful)

Chief Intelligence Officer Rook: The circumstances of his death-

General Blackwater: I know the circumstances of his death very well, Rook. Congratulations on your promotion. Why not tell the council the circumstances of Jackard's death for their benefit?

Chief Intelligence Officer Rook: Jackard had been operating in the field for over 5 weeks. I know, as I had to take over certain responsibilities here in HQ because of his absence. He's been gathering intelligence on the various cults operating in Townsville.

Director Cliff: Yes, the cults. I was skeptical of their importance in Townsville's criminal network at first, but Jackard convinced me otherwise… partially.

Chief Intelligence Officer Rook: He went out there to find more data to convince you fully, sir.

Director Cliff: That, he did.

Chief Intelligence Officer Rook: He died three days ago on a mission to apprehend the leader of The Cult of His Promise, sir. Leopold Sutton, if I'm not mistaken. He's also the overall leader of every cadet branch of the cult, including The Cult of His Arm.

Director Cliff: How did he die?

CIO Rook: He was killed during a police raid on a compound owned by The Cult of His Arm. Our people were there, and they're still investigating the circumstances surrounding his death, but the man in charge of the investigation believe that he might have been mistaken for a cultist and shot down.

Director Cliff: Mistaken by who?

CIO Rook: He's still doing ballistics tests using the firearms of all personnel involved. He'll be done in a few days.

Director Cliff: Good. I want to know who the fuck killed him. He'd better not be a member of the USDO, or I swear to God, I'll make sure he suffers for it.

(Silence)

Director Cliff: Wake up, people! Do we have any minor things to settle!?

Media Ops Lead Glitchfell: I've got one.

Director Cliff: Let's hear it then.

Media Ops Lead Glitchfell: The Townsville media complex, and to an extent, the world, has been asking for a team name for B-47, B-48, and B-49.

Director Cliff: They've already given them all sorts of names. Should we even bother?

General Blackwater: Permission to speak freely, sir.

Director Cliff: Go on.

General Blackwater: The Girls are our personnel, our operatives. They're our responsibility. We should not let anyone else but us label them. We should give them an official unit designation. We'd be putting our foot down. If we don't, it's a sign of weakness, and our enemies would love to see a chink in our armor.

Director Cliff: Agreed. We are no longer the Organization. Suggestions from the floor?

Media Ops Lead Glitchfell: If I may, sir, the city had already produced a long list of suggestions. (crinkling of paper) Here you go, sir. I've circled the ones I believe are good.

Director Cliff: So we're still letting someone else name our organic weapon platforms?

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: Sir, I think it's a very good idea.

Director Cliff: Explain to me how contradictions are a good idea.

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: We are still choosing the name, sir. I believe it's a good diplomatic move to choose a name coined by someone in the city. They would think we're listening, that we're taking their opinions into consideration. We need to keep our public relations in the positive after last year. There will always be people smearing our name, and we need to stay on top of them.

Director Cliff: (Scoffs) Some of these names here are actually pretty good. (Pause) We'll call them… 'The Powerpuff Girls' from now on.

Media Ops Lead Glitchfell: Ur- sir- I didn't circle that-

Director Cliff: I know very well you didn't circle that name, Glitch. I didn't choose that name because it sounds good. I selected it because it still has a part of us left in it. Make sure the entire city knows about our decision. I want that unit name made official in the USDO.

Media Ops Lead Glitchfell: Yes, sir.

Chief Finance Officer Silverslick: I think it has a great ring to it. It's got good marketing potential.

General Blackwater: Says the used car salesman who nearly got them killed.

Chief Finance Officer Silverslick: What did you just call me?

General Blackwater: You heard me right. Or do you need a sensory checkup in the medical bay?

Chief Finance Officer Silverslick: I was just doing what I was hired to do you jock!

Director Cliff: Shut up! Both of you!

(Silence)

Media Ops Lead Glitchfell: You know, we could put up a few billboards and newspaper ads featuring the Powerpuff Girls and their new name. Public service announcements and things like that.

(Sound of doors opening)

Director Cliff: Make it so. And where the hell is Professor Utonium!?

Professor Utonium: Right here, sir.

Director Cliff: You! What the hell did you do to B-48!?

Professor Utonium: Buttercup, sir. She has a name and it's Buttercup.

Director Cliff: Don't you dare lecture me after what you did! I want an explanation, now!

Professor Utonium: Very well. I've been working on the means to advance the progress of Project Powerpuff beyond what we have now-

Director Cliff: And why do we need any further progress when we have B-47, B-48 and B-49? Why not just manufacture more copies of them?

Professor Utonium: As I have mentioned a million times, they are prototypes, accidental ones at that, and they are not meant for any kind of field deployment in the first place.

Director Cliff: So why not just take the best of the three, B-47-

Professor Utonium: Blossom, you mean-

Director Cliff: And clone a few more of her? I believe we still have the stem cells from her DNA source?

Professor Utonium: It wouldn't be ethical and-

Director Cliff: I think we all know what you mean. You want Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup to be unique. You've fallen in love with those bioweapons-

Professor Utonium: Don't… call them bioweapons.

Director Cliff: (ignoring Utonium) and you've taken them in as your own. And now you want the best for them. You're treating them like children - your own children, to be precise. You've built yourself a little dreamland.

Professor Utonium: It's hardly any sort of paradise with what they're being subjected to every day - when they weren't meant for field operations in the first place.

Director Cliff: Enough. I don't care what your motivations are, as long as I'm getting results. I want to hear your proposal, and it'd better be something. I don't like how you've just taken one of the Project Powerpuff subjects offline without my approval. You're lucky I haven't thrown you in a cell and reassign someone to be their handler.

Professor Utonium: I- urm- have been working on something I have been calling the 'Anti-X'. It is a three-stage Chemical W-assisted compound that could neutralize the powers of a Chemical-enhanced being. It is a cocktail of compounds that renders stabilized Chemical X inert by bonding with the stabilizing agents to prevent them from bridging with mundane molecules, before irreversibly reacting with them to effectively destroy them and disconnect them from the Chemical X. The Chemical X itself is destroyed by the presence of Chemical W-

Director Cliff: So you've basically created something to destroy Chemical X?

Professor Utonium: Yes, and it worked too. The results are encouraging. I have effectively reverted Buttercup to the baseline of a 5-year-old human being… except she is still bulletproof… and still has a prodigious healing factor - about a quarter of what it used to be, but still far above baseline. She is normal in every other respect now. My medical examinations have revealed no other abnormalities.

Psychiatry and Social Services Department Head Alice: Upton, what about Buttercup herself? How does she feel about this change in her physiology?

Professor Utonium: She's deeply upset, I'm afraid. But she'll cope. She always did.

PaSSDH Alice: I'll check up on her later.

Professor Utonium: It's much appreciated. She'll need help making adjustments.

Director Cliff: We need to get back on track. What do you hope to accomplish with this… 'Anti-X'? It seems counter-intuitive to create something to destroy Chemical X.

Professor Utonium: I'll be frank. I want Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup released from service.

Director Cliff: And you've created Anti-X to retire them from service and give them a normal life, am I right?

Professor Utonium: Pretty much, yes.

Director Cliff: And what makes you think I'm willing to accept that?

Professor Utonium: I have continued my research in Chemical X. I can create something better for the USDO's use.

Director Cliff: Go on.

Professor Utonium: The Girls were created by accident when I decided to test the effectiveness of an incomplete Chemical X formula. I have continued working on the original formula, and I believe it could - no - will result in a… urm… bioweapon that is far better than what we have currently.

Director Cliff: How far along are you to a finished product?

Professor Utonium: I've already begun testing the complete formula - we'll call it Chemical X2 - on plants. I believe I will be ready to create a new enhanced operative within a few days.

Director Cliff: Hmm. And you will. I believe the USDO and Townsville could stand to use a new bioweapon on its side. Crime is on the rise - it's never been down, to begin with - and some of them are being perpetrated by enhanced individuals who your Girls are generally too inept to stop, it seems. If what you say is true - that you could come up with something better, I think it just might win us the war.

Professor Utonium: So, regarding my Girls' retirement-

Director Cliff: Your Girls' retirement! You don't seem to be grasping the stakes here!

Professor Utonium: (slams table) You think I don't!? You've been sitting behind your comfy boss chair, behind an expensive desk, guarded by a hundred soldiers in HQ while my Girls are doing all the dirty work! I had to watch my Girls come home every day, tired and injured and psychologically scarred! I know the stakes very well! I've been closer to the front lines than you'll ever be! And it's been nearly 3 months!

Director Cliff: (Laughs) You want your 'Girls' to retire? Fine, I'll let them retire.

Professor Utonium: You will?

Director Cliff: There are conditions though. First - create me my reinforcement. I want it in the time frame you gave me.

Professor Utonium: It's done.

Director Cliff: And second: They will remain active even with said reinforcement deployed, on reserve at least and deployed alongside the newer enhanced operative at most until my reinforcement is ready to operate alone.

Professor Utonium: Fine.

General Blackwater: I have my own conditions for you to fulfill, prof.

Professor Utonium: What conditions?

General Blackwater: I will be selecting the DNA to be used instead. I know you, and you'll likely choose something unsuited for combat. Doctor Vanum will be assisting me. Right, Vanum?

Doctor Vanum: Right.

Professor Utonium: You said 'conditions'. Are there more?

General Blackwater: The new Powerpuff subject's training will be put under my direct supervision instead. You've done enough damage in that respect.

Professor Utonium: So the child will be living with you?

General Blackwater: No. That's about the only thing you've done right. You'll be taking care of it for me. It's better that all Powerpuff subjects be housed in one building.

Head of Logistics Wiggums: It'll make the logistics easier, at least.

Director Cliff: Now wait a second - this new bioweapon… It'll still be a child physically?

Professor Utonium: Possibly. There's no telling how Chemical X2 will react with human cells, if it will even be different from Chemical X in any way.

Professor Utonium: Since we're on the subject of conditions, I have some of my own.

Director Cliff: And what makes you think you're in any position to make any demands?

Professor Utonium: I don't. But it would really be nice if you'd listen. I'll know for sure that I'm working for a good organization that cares about the welfare of its personnel.

Director Cliff: (laughs) Those Girls sure did a number on you, did they? Color me interested – what do you want?

Professor Utonium: I want full severance and isolation from the USDO for Selicia, the Girls and me after your next bioweapon is fully ready – fully prepared, educated and trained. I want the Girls to be funded for the next twenty years of their life, up to college. And I want the USDO to leave us alone after retirement. No drafting, no matter what emergency it is.

Director Cliff: (Mocking) You drive a hard bargain, professor.

CFO Silverslick: You have more financial know-how than you let on.

General Blackwater: This is unacceptable!

Director Cliff: Agreed. It is outrageous that you've neutralized one of our bioweapons without my express permission, to begin with! B-47, B-48, and B-49 can't just be cut loose from the USDO. They're assets even if they will be obsolete eventually.

Professor Utonium: But you agreed to retire them if-

Director Cliff: But I did not agree to your conditions. I will only agree to the 'girls' – your 'children' being put on reserve. I want them on reserve in case your next creation couldn't do the job one day.

Professor Utonium: Then that's no different from active duty.

Director Cliff: We could… agree to a limitation to the level of emergency they will be called in to neutralize.

Professor Utonium: Level 10. Please. (Note: Level 10 refers to emergencies threatening humanity on a global level)

Director Cliff: Level 5. (Note: Level 5 refers to any emergency involving hostile enhanced individuals)

Professor Utonium: Seven.

Director Cliff: This is not a negotiation. Five.

Professor Utonium: (Sighs) Fine.

Director Cliff: And please, for goodness sakes! Find a way to reverse your Anti-X! B-48 is one of the more productive of your 'daughters'!

Professor Utonium: If unnecessary killing is productive to you…

Director Cliff: I don't need a morality lesson from you.

Professor Utonium: The effects of Anti-X might not even be reversible. We're standing on the bleeding edge of science here. I've been driving in the dark.

Director Cliff: Then you'd better switch your headlights on and find me my destination!

Professor Utonium: What about the rest of my conditions?

Director Cliff: You and Selicia are staying in the USDO. It is a matter of national security that you do. The only thing I'm willing to grant is funding for your 'daughters' existence. That's about it.

Professor Utonium: That's not very different from our present arrangements. What's there to stop you from declaring every engagement with enhanced individuals an emergency for my Girls to handle?

Director Cliff: Nothing. What did I tell you? You aren't in any position to make demands. You should be lucky I even considered retirement for the bioweapons you call your 'Girls'. You'll either take my terms or leave it, and if you leave it, I'm reassigning you to the North Pole and throw in General Blackwater as the 'Girls' 'father'!

(Silence.)

PaSSDH Alice: Thomas…

(Door opened forcibly before slamming shut.)

Director Cliff: Now that that's over and done with, what's next on the agenda, Yorkshire?

General Blackwater: You don't need her to tell you what it is. Security's next.

Director Cliff: Yes, crime's on the rise again. It's like those bastards are multiplying like vermin. Solutions?

General Blackwater: Our forces are fully engaged at the moment. They are at 100% capacity. There's nothing more we can do unless…

Director Cliff: Unless what?

General Blackwater: As much as I don't see eye to eye with Police Commissioner Davis and his merry band of blues, their assessment of our strategy makes sense. We're combating crime as if it's the Vietnam War all over again.

Director Cliff: And what's wrong with that?

General Blackwater: We lost the Vietnam War, and we're not exactly fighting a war here with two armies going toe-to-toe on a dance of death here. We need to adapt to the situation in Townsville.

Director Cliff: Your proposal?

General Blackwater: We need to reorganize our forces. As it is, our largest deployable unit is a squad of fifteen to twenty, and we're usually sending our men out by the platoons. We can only be in so many places at once, and sometimes we'd end up sending a hundred men on the wildest of goose chases to arrest one or two men for what turned out to the possession of toy guns and chewing gum rather than illegal firearms and plastic explosives.

Director Cliff: And you want to break our deployed units down into smaller bits? Do you realize how that sounds?

General Blackwater: I'm fully aware of it, but it's either that or be ineffectual and lose Townsville's support eventually. We break our squads and platoons up into fire teams and send them everywhere, and we'll be able to do something.

Director Cliff: In other words, we'll be more like the TPD.

General Blackwater: Yes. But better. Even one of our fire teams is better than a few of their patrol units combined.

Director Cliff: Very well. Make it happen. What about our 'Powerpuff Girls'? They're one lab rat short.

General Blackwater: We have almost a thousand guys in Townsville. We'll reinforce them with some good old-fashioned boots from the ground.

Director Cliff: They can't exactly fly, Blackwater.

General Blackwater: No they can't, but some of our equipment could, and fast enough with the kind of modifications we've been making.

Director Cliff: Very well. Make it so. Vanum, what's the status of Project Klendathu and Project Cyclops?

Doctor Vanum: We've been testing different versions of the power packs we've been making using Chemicals A through to X for energy storage. We've discovered that we have options, and Chemical A might not be the best one. We're weighing our options right now and refinement the power pack design of the best ones. In the meantime, we're making refinements to the final designs of the Klendathu power armor and Cyclop mechanized suits.

Director Cliff: How soon before we can field them?

Doctor Vanum: There's going to be a delay. June or July, probably.

Director Cliff: Are you serious?

Doctor Vanum: You know, Professor Utonium's been lending his expertise in helping with the power packs and designs - in his free time, over the internetwork and phone. If it weren't for him, it would have been next year.

Director Cliff: You watch your tone with me. If it weren't for me, we wouldn't even have any of these projects - Powerpuff, Klendathu, Cyclops. And if it weren't for my forgiving nature, you'd be shipped off to Uganda right now. I heard they could use another drill bit technician for the Duranium mines. The last one died from a cave-in, and slowly too, from what they said.

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**


	48. Chapter 42: The Wages of Sin (Part 1)

**Chapter 42: The Wages of Sin (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Sky. En Route to Downtown.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1123.**

Blossom was troubled, and that was an understatement. Nothing seemed right ever since she woke up. Bubbles wouldn't speak to her, and that was on top of her deteriorating self-control because of her new power. Buttercup, on the other hand, had the opposite problem. Her Dad had taken away all her powers, and she was severely weakened as a result. Even though it was well-deserved and necessary because of her psychotic tendency to kill and hurt without the need to, and sometimes even without provocation, Blossom could empathize with her wayward sister, how scary it would be to lose all her powers, and how sad she was to suddenly be capable of nothing - to not be able to fly, to not be able to fire her eye beams or lift heavyweights. Those were things that Blossom felt had made her Daddy proud - she'd seen him smile whenever she showed him a new trick she'd learned.

It also meant that she was one girl short, though her friends had an answer to that…

* * *

"This is Flight Control Five, please confirm the status of Bravo-Four-Eight, over," her radio came alive while she was thinking. She hated how some of the people in the USDO she knew had these weird number-names for them. She couldn't phrase it, but she hated being called by a number.

"What do you mean, Miss Flight Control Five?" Blossom asked - the officer on the other end of the radio had used some terms she was still having trouble understanding.

"Why is Buttercup not with you? Over," the woman on the other end said, her patience slipping.

"She's lost all her powers. She can't fight crime anymore," Blossom reported. It was sad to see Buttercup meltdown the way she did when she was told off for trying to go with them in the first place…

Buttercup had rushed into the Girls' room as soon as the USDO hotline rang. She was slow compared to Blossom and Bubbles, but she just so happened to be in a nearby washroom when it happened. By the time she had opened the door on her sisters changing up, her sisters were already putting on their armor. Buttercup had gone ahead to change into her uniform despite being disempowered, much to Blossom and Bubbles' confusion. And she had to take a long time to do it because of how slow and clumsy she had become.

'Buttercup, you're not supposed to come with us anymore,' Blossom had told her even as she was putting on her green military fatigues.

'You can't fight crime like this. You don't have your powers…' Bubbles added, but Buttercup had brushed her off.

'Shut up, cry-baby!' Buttercup had shouted rudely at Bubbles while she was being a klutz with her boots, which she had to heave out of the walk-in closet. Bubbles had taken offense to this – had it not been for Blossom restraining her, she would have thrown Buttercup across the room.

'You can't even fly anymore,' Blossom had continued, but Buttercup had gone quiet as she continued to change into her uniform - with difficulty. Her point became much clearer when Buttercup tried to lug her guns out of the closet. She had to drag her MP5 out with the stock making a ruffled line in the carpet. She had to give up halfway, with sweat pouring down her face, and settle for the pistol, which looked like it was weighing her down anyway. She had to carry it two-handed as if it was a heavy machinegun.

Dad walked in on them after that.

'Buttercup? What are you doing?" he questioned the disempowered little girl, who had frozen the moment she was caught - she didn't use to do that, but now, she was scared easily, and she couldn't help it.

'I'm going with Blossom and Bubbles,' Buttercup had forced herself to be who she was. 'I'm going to fight crime.'

'You can't, honey,' Dad had said. At the very least, he didn't look angry, but more amused than anything. 'You can't even fly anymore.'

'That's what I told her,' Blossom had said. 'But she wouldn't listen.'

'But…' Buttercup wanted to rebut everyone but found that she didn't have anything real to defend herself with. Not only that - it took immense effort to even try to think her way to her desired goal. 'What am I supposed to do now?'

'Be the little girl you've always been, Buttercup. That's what you're supposed to do,' the Dad had said, and as he was saying this, Buttercup was pouting. 'Have fun. Play with your toys or watch the TV. Or sleep. You know, like a little girl.'

'But I don't want to!' Buttercup whined. Ever since losing her powers, she was more prone to crying too. 'You want that but I don't want it!'

It was at this point that the look of Buttercup being downcast, looking completely purposeless, was carved into her mind forever. Buttercup didn't even look like Buttercup anymore, as if she had lost her soul as if she had lost a huge part of herself. Blossom knew what Dad had said - that Buttercup couldn't feel as much as the rest of them because she was 'sick' and 'messed up' inside, but it looked, then, that she was feeling sad enough.

'You'll get used to this, Buttercup,' Dad had said again. 'Give yourself some time, and you wouldn't even want to think about fighting crime anymore.'

Buttercup had, of course, stubbornly rejected this notion and ran out of the room in tears.

* * *

"Status confirmed," Miss Flight Control Five said over the radio. "Someone will be taking her place. They are on the way now."

"Who?" Blossom asked.

"You'll see. You need to slow down and let them catch up. Over and out," the flight control officer said cryptically. It'd kept Blossom quiet for a while as she tried to guess on her own who it would be, and how he or she would be taking Buttercup's place - how they could even do that, considering that no one else was capable of flying like them or fighting the way they could.

"What do you think, Bubbles?" Blossom asked her only other attending sister as they were flying towards their destination. They were answering another call, which would no doubt be another middle-of-the-road situation that would be neither too hard nor too easy to deal with, as if designed to waste their time. "Who do you think is taking Buttercup's place?"

Bubbles remained silent.

"Bubbles?" Blossom pressed her sister, deeply worried as to what was going on with her.

"I don't care," Bubbles said coldly.

"Why are you being like this all of a sudden?" Blossom asked, and caught another flash of her eyes - those deeply disturbing eyes, which were pink and bloodshot as if exhausted. At that exact moment, her eyes had flashed red.

Bubbles simply glared at Blossom, and the leader sister did not pursue the issue any further, for fear of setting her off.

They were on their way to another part of the city. When it came, they didn't expect it. The thumping of… something was their first sign. Then Blossom looked in the direction of the strangely regular sound. It was distant at first, but catching up to them. Blossom zoomed in with her enhanced vision and saw something spectacular.

It was the biggest helicopter they had ever seen, and the only kind they had ever seen were small and belonged either to the police or Townsville News Network. This one was so big that it had two 'spinning tops' on the roof, as the Girls had taken to calling the rotors.

It was a Chinook helicopter transport, and it just so happen to be painted dark green, a color which reminded Blossom of Buttercup.

"Morning, Girls. Looks to me that I'll be flying with the two of you today," a familiar voice said on the radio after it crackled to life once more.

"Mister Blake! Is that you in the helicopter?" Blossom returned the greeting with delight. As she was looking at the Chinook troop transport coming up rapidly towards them, she saw someone lean out of a side door on the giant helicopter and wave at her and Bubbles. Blossom could recognize the greying hair, the aviator sunglasses and slightly wrinkled but strong-featured face of Agent Blake.

"Sure is," Blake replied on the radio. "My condolences to what had happened to Buttercup. But I heard it's for the best."

"It's for the best…" Blossom agreed, albeit reluctantly. Sadly. She had lied to make it happen, and that was the worst part.

With the Girls forming a wing with the Chinook on either side of the helicopter, they flew towards the scene of the crime at the transport's top speed.

Just when they thought the long days were over, it'd turned out that it was just the beginning. The first call they attended to didn't even need the kind of firepower the Girls and the Chinook were packing. The crooks had robbed a pawn shop, and when they saw a military troop transport tailing them with two of the City's most feared little girls in formation with it while they were getting away in a busted old car, they gave up almost immediately – almost. They tried to shake them off by taking some sharp turns, but after the Chinook flew ahead of them and the rear gate opened up with a machine gun for a tongue, shooting out their tires, they stopped and surrendered while begging for their lives.

Bubbles took the opportunity to vent her frustration on a few of them before she could be stopped, knocking out most of the thieves. There were no openings for her to kill Blossom so far, and it was frustrating. In the back of her mind, she didn't even want to do it – but the drugs! She needed them so badly, she needed them to feel good! She knew she needed them or she would suffer a thousand pains – and so she wanted it to be done and over with as soon as possible.

It wasn't over after that. Lieutenant Blake, who took overall command of the Girls' 'unit', was alerted to another matter needing their attention, and this time, it was dire…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Business District. Edmund Tower.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1205.**

The two Girls had to be led by radio all over the Business District of Townsville. Agent Blake and his crew's insertion into the newly-named Powerpuff Girls had been fortuitous, as he had many years of experience leading high-speed chases.

An armored truck had been led off from its destination by a group of highly organized robbers. When Blossom heard the initial sitrep on the radio, she'd dismissed it as just another wild goose chase, just another way to burn off the Chemical X in her blood and get knocked out cold by night. But then the additional descriptions of the perpetrators coming in told her that it wasn't usual.

There were five of them. And they were described to have green skin and of wildly different body shapes. One was a midget, and another was basically an elephant. The other three were somewhere in between.

By the time Blossom, Bubbles and Blake's Chinook had reached the armored truck zigzagging across the city, it was already too late. The armored truck, which belonged to a security company likely hired by a bank, was being tailed by a couple of old-fashioned cars. While it was retreating across a T-junction, something huge came out from around the corner and tackled - TACKLED - the armored truck. A gigantic form of a man, green-skinned and evidently powered by some manner of Chemical, not unlike Chemical X. The armored truck had veered off the road as a result and ended up planting itself into a lamp post. A third car came up beside it, having raced downrange from the opposite direction. The chasers stopped behind the halted armored truck and got out.

Blossom could recognize who they were, and she could easily name one of them. Ace. The Gangreen Gang. Evidently, they were still in business despite their (relatively) peaceful resolution during Christmas at the Battle of Morbucks Industries Research Labs. Blossom thought that she had made an impression on Ace and his gang, turned them into good people. Dad had taught her that there was good in people, even the criminals, and she had taken his lessons to heart. Now, that was all up in the air.

Blake's Chinook stopped flying forward and hovered. Blossom and Bubbles followed and hovered in place too.

"That big one looks dangerous," Blake on the radio said. "Blossom, Bubbles, go straight ahead. My crew will circle around and shoot."

"I want to talk to them," Blossom said.

"They don't look like they're in the mood for a chat, kid!" Blake said over the radio. Bubbles, in the meantime, looked trouble and stayed silent. In her mind, she had been fighting the urge to use her drugs. It wasn't about the ability to fight crime any longer. The drugs' effect was cumulative, and she would find herself getting into a rage and whipping up a storm the moment she had to fight. She had been feeling like an absolute wreck since waking up in the Princess' mansion. She knew that using the drugs would make her feel good again, but she had only enough for one moment of high… and no way to know when she could carry out the fairy godmother's wishes and get more.

Ignoring Blake, Blossom flew ahead and landed next to the tall and lanky one with the angular shades. Bubbles followed her as the other two normal-sized Gangreens had just pulled two security officers out of the armored truck's cabin. One of them was incapacitated. The other looked unconscious. Either one of them could be dead.

Ace, the tall one, had already noticed Blossom and her sister, however. He'd noticed long before they arrived. The Chinook Blake was in was loud, and it'd announced their presence.

"Well, well, well, look who's here," Ace greeted Blossom with a smile, a genuine one, exposing his sharp teeth. He was armed to the teeth. He had a bulletproof vest on. A sword hung on his belt. It was the same Duranium sword he'd used to cut and stab Blossom, very nearly killing her. A sniper rifle was slung on his back.

"Mister Ace," Blossom addressed him, leader to leader.

"Remembered my nicky-name too!" Ace said to his gang members. Billy, the big one with ginger hair covering his eyes, was leaning against the truck. He laughed stupidly when he heard it. Arturo the midget, who had just unlocked the back of the armored truck, peeked from behind it.

"She did? That's smart for a 5-year-old," the small one said, unaware that they were antagonizing someone far younger.

"Let's kill them, Blossom!" Bubbles barked, caught in the moment – it was easy for her to do that these days.

"Whoa, slow down there, hotshot," Ace said, putting up both hands, though the gleeful, mocking look on his face never left. If he was shocked at the look Bubbles was giving him, he wasn't showing it. He turned to Blossom after that: "What's going on with your sister? Was she bitten by a dog or something? She looks like she got some rabies in her!"

Ace's boys sniggered at his remarks. Bubbles gritted her teeth. Saliva dripped from her mouth. Her eyes were shining hellish red, had been since she smelled blood. It'd what prompted Ace.

"How are you, Blossom?" Ace then said, a little more civil than before. "I'm sorry I hurt you so badly the last time."

"I'm much better now," Blossom said even as Blake's voice was egging her on to start fighting the Gangreen Gang. "W-why are you doing this?"

"I've told you before. I still have people to feed, Blossom, and…" Ace had explained until his voice broke. "this winter hasn't been kind. We didn't have the money, so we didn't have enough food, wood, and medicine. People got sick. People died."

"But you're stealing! And stealing is wrong!" Blossom said. "Can't you ask for help? I'm sure there are many nice people around."

"No. There aren't many nice people around. Not enough anyway, not in a town like this," Ace said. "You'll understand one day. In the meantime, I gotta go. It's nice chatting with you."

With that, Ace made a move for the armored truck's cabin. Arturo had closed the back of the truck, coming up to Ace like some kind of a familiar, cackling and gloating about how they had stolen millions of dollars in one go.

"I can't let you leave, Ace!" Blossom insisted. Ace stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry about your friends, but I can't." Stealing was wrong - Dad had taught Blossom that - and it was worse if it was an entire truck - a real truck - full of stuff. Blossom didn't know what they were stealing as she didn't know what armored trucks were for, but it didn't matter what it was.

The tall, lanky one turned around. Although his shades had hidden his eyes, Blossom could sense displeasure in behind them. Injustice, even.

"Then neither will you leave," Ace threatened before pulling out his sword. "I've compromised enough and let you live and my friends died because of it! I ain't having no more of that!"

"In fact, you remind me of everything I hate," Ace went on, and his words hurt when it shouldn't even. "A white knight goody two shoes protecting those who didn't need protectin'! Hurting the weak and the sick and the poor!"

"But-" Blossom tried to speak, only to be shut down instantly.

"No! Shut up! I told you a sad story about my people dying, and this is how you treat me?" Ace went on. "I should have killed you while I had the chance. There were children I know who died because you had to act all angel-like!"

All around him, his gang had formed up. Arturo snarled at Blossom, looking like a Chihuahua from hell. Big Billy stopped leaning against the armored truck and came up behind Ace threateningly - he'd uprooted the lamp post the armored truck had struck, using it as a gigantic club. Snake got out of the cab of the armored truck and drew his Uzi submachinegun. Grubber pulled a few raspberries… and a pistol.

Blossom couldn't help but feel vulnerable despite her superior enhanced abilities. But worse of all, she couldn't help but feel betrayed by what Ace had said. Why should she be hated when he was committing the crime? She'd felt a connection with him before, that he was a good man despite what he was doing. She was able to relate to him because of the commonalities they shared - They were both leaders. They both possessed the power to do good. They were both doing what they felt were good things.

In fact, Blossom was about to talk some sense into her counterpart on the other side of the war on crime when Bubbles acted first.

Coming forward, she gave out a sonic scream, blowing Ace and his cohort back and knocking them against the armored truck, overturning it. Blossom had to get out of the way and cover her ears, shaken out of her wits by the suddenness of the noise. In the middle of it, she saw blood spraying out of Bubbles' hateful eyes. She screamed for her to stop, but her own voice was drowned out by the sonic scream.

By the end of it, Blossom was lying on the ground, her own ears ringing – her vision blurry and distorted. She continued shouting at Bubbles, trying to gain her attention, but she couldn't tell if she did. All she could hear was ringing in her ears, and all she could see were splotches of colors.

Bubbles immediately charged at her punchbags. Blake's men started shooting from the side door facing the Gangreen Gang.

Ace was able to draw his blade and slash Bubbles across the chest as she was flying towards him, causing her to tumble and hit the bottom chassis of the armored truck.

"Grab what you can and split!" Ace ordered his gang as he himself ran for the bags of money that had spilled out of the back of the truck. The boys did the same, fleeing bullets fired from the Chinook, which, under Blake's orders, began turning its back so it would face the self-righteous robbers. The back gate of the Chinook opened, revealing a wall of men and guns arrayed against the green-skinned enhanced individuals. The machinegun in the center opened fire, and so did the rest of them.

Blake himself was wielding an Anti-material sniper rifle loaded with Duranium rounds. Aiming at Big Billy, he started putting them in his back as he was bumbling away and yelling in pain, money bags spilling from his cradling arms.

The amount of firepower they were putting out had even floored Arturo, the smallest of them, and Snake had to abandon his bags of dough to rescue him.

Blake thought he saw blood, but before he could confirm anything, the Gangreen Gang had rounded the corner. He'd thought about ordering his Chinook transport to give chase, but orders were orders. The plan relayed to him was to intercept the criminals assailing the armored truck. Should the Gangreen Gang retreat, it was up to the police and other units to hunt them down. In the meantime, he ordered his Chinook to land.

Time passed, and Blossom's senses had gotten better as she gave herself a moment to rest. As the ringing and veil over her eyes went away, she saw that Bubbles was sitting and leaning against the overturned armored truck.

"Bubbles!" Blossom shouted when she saw that her sister was hurt. The Kevlar vest that was supposed to protect her had been cleanly cut through - no doubt the work of a Duranium blade powered by enhanced hands. Speeding to her, she tried to tend to Bubbles, but Bubbles pushed her away.

"No! Don't hurt me!" Bubbles yelled, staring fearfully at Blossom. It had Blossom confused. When she tried to come closer to Bubbles, the latter Girl punched the former across the face and pushed her away.

"Ow! I wasn't going to!" Blossom claimed as she was clutching her jaw, rubbing it.

"You did this!" Bubbles stood up and accused, looking like she was more angry at Blossom than she was hurting from the wound. Her eyes were still red. "This is your fault!"

"What are you talking about?" Blossom said, honestly confused as to why she was getting blamed for an injury she did not cause.

"You did this to me!" Bubbles screamed madly, and Blossom became terrified of her own sister, such that she wouldn't dare to come anywhere close to her. "You did this to me! You did this to me! YOU DID THIS!"

"Whoa! Whoa! What's going on here!?" Blake asked as he was running up to them. Bubbles' evil eyes told him everything he needed to know.

"You need to calm down, Bubbles," the USDO officer added, but Bubbles didn't look like she was capable of calming down.

"It's all your fault! It's all your fault! It's not my fault! IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" Bubbles continued screaming, and she wasn't referring to the injury Ace had inflicted on her at all.

"Bubbles! You're scaring me!" Blossom exclaimed fearfully. More men were disembarking from the modified USDO Chinook. All of them were keeping their distance, and none of them dared to raise their guns at her - and it wasn't just because they knew her.

"Bubbles, what's the matter?" Agent Fields, Blake's right hand, asked, but Bubbles had continued chanting her madness.

"Bubbles, please, tell me what's wrong!" Blossom said as she decided to risk it all and approach Bubbles. She didn't look like she was going to hurt anyone - the way she was on her knees and clutching her head as if it could fall off at any moment.

But the moment she was close enough, Bubbles had launched herself at her, dragging her across the asphalt so hard that they were creating a path, damaging the road.

"What the hell!" Blake shouted as he witnessed this impossible sight - something that only enhanced individuals were capable of.

"Bubbles, what are you doing!?" Blossom shouted when she finally came to a stop, all sunken into the ground at the end of the path Bubbles had made. Her entire back felt raw from being dragged across the road. "This isn't you!"

"The Bubbles you know is DEAD! And it's all your fault! Your fault!" Bubbles screamed madly while she was sitting on top of Blossom, her bloodshot eyes widely open, as if staring deep into her soul. "You wanted a hard-core Bubbles! Well, now you have a hard-core Bubbles!"

Panting madly, Bubbles raised a fist and opened up her fingers like claws, and Blossom shielded her face with both her arms.

"Stop! Let her go!" Blake ordered. He'd raised his XM9 anti-material rifle at her. Bubbles turned to glare at him, as if to consider killing him too, before dashing up into the air, screaming away at breakneck speed, her baby blue X-energy contrail tainted by red energy at its core.

With Bubbles gone, Agent Blake was able to check on Blossom. While he was coming up to her, however, Blossom sat up on her own without his intervention. She didn't look like she was physically wounded, surprisingly, but Blake knew that emotionally, it was a completely different story. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. With or without enhanced abilities, which kid wouldn't be? Blossom had just been assaulted by her own sister, and Blake knew that they were supposed to be close.

"I need to find her, Mister Blake," Blossom said, while she was holding back tears and sniffling. "Dad will be mad if I don't."

"She could be anywhere by now," Blake said. "There's no point doing that."

What Blake had said had likely driven Blossom to tears as she started bawling and wiping her tears away in front of her.

"B-but she's my sister! I can't just give up on h-her!" Blossom cried, struggling to express herself as she did. "And something's wrong with her! She's never lost control like that before!"

"Hey... That's not what I meant," Blake comforted the little girl as she hugged his leg. He put a hand on her back. "I would never leave her be like this. All I meant to say is we need to call this in and get some people to help. Okay? Can you let me do that?"

Blossom let the man go. He bent down. "I'm sure we'll find her in a few hours, just in time for dinner. Be strong, Blossy. It's not the end of the world."


	49. Chapter 43: The Wages of Sin (Part 2)

**Chapter 43: The Wages of Sin (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1623.**

'This is Sierra-Hotel-Seven Lima, we have a Run-Away situation with The Powerpuff Girls. I repeat, we have a Run-Away situation with The Powerpuff Girls,' Blake's message had gone out hours ago. 'Bravo-Four-Nine is now MIA since the Business District.'

Although Lieutenant Blake wasn't far removed from the foot soldiers of the USDO, his message had serious implications, which meant that all available units had to conduct search patterns throughout the city to find Bubbles. The news had floated up to the chain of command as well, all the way up to General Blackwater, who would then have to decide on the strategies involved in the search and the priorities of the USDO. Since Detective Mullens and his task force were most familiar with the newly-named Powerpuff Girls, he was roped in to search for one of the missing Powerpuffs.

Agent Blake and Blossom had been circling the city multiple times in search of Bubbles, waiting for news from the numerous units involved, but to no avail. Blake had pushed his Chinook to the breaking point in pursuit of that goal, and even though it was modified to stay airborne at high speeds for far longer than the stock model, it had to stop to refuel and undergo maintenance eventually.

While fuel was being pumped into the tanks of the Chinook and maintenance technicians were giving it a once-over, Blossom was sitting on the edge of the roof, her legs hanging off the edge.

"And- and- she just flew away after she hit me-" she was crying into her high-tech cellphone with Dad on the line. Blake had heard it; he was walking up to her from behind when he did. He stopped to give her the time and space she needed to speak to her father and find comfort in familial connections. "I tried finding her but she wouldn't come out."

"Thanks, Dad. I'm sorry I lost Bubbles again," Blossom sobbed, her voice tired and raspy. "No, Dad. It's all my fault. She… she said so herself. It's all my fault."

"I don't know. I can't help but b-blame myself-" she'd gone on in her conversation with Dad. Blake couldn't hear Professor Utonium's voice beyond an indecipherable, muted garble. "Okay… Thanks, Dad. I'm still sorry, though."

"I'll try," the conversation was concluding. "I love you too, Dad. I can't wait to see you again. Bye. Hugs and kisses. Bye."

"How did your dad handle the news?" Blake asked after giving Blossom a moment of silence.

"He wasn't angry, but he's upset," Blossom said, her eyes wandering into the horizon, still teary and shell-shocked. "He didn't sound like it, but I know he's upset."

"How can you tell?" Blake asked as he came up to her, chose a spot on her right and sat down beside her.

"I just know. It's the way he talks, I guess," Blossom said, but was unable to describe what she meant. She knew from the slight tremble and pauses in her Dad's voice that her Dad was holding his emotions back, trying to mask them, trying to be strong for her. She had no idea how to express all this, however. Blossom broke into tears again after that. "Bubbles- she's still upset because of what I did!"

She leaned against Blake, desiring the comfort he provided, and Blake allowed it. He put an arm around the enhanced little girl and she scooted up to him. Blake couldn't help but notice just how tiny she was - how unnatural and surreal it was that she was cast into this situation, sitting on top of the HQ of a federal law enforcement-military agency, wearing her heavy armor. Sure, he had months to get used to the fact, but being away for so long from her had made him raw to it. Come to think of it, he was never really used to it - all the while, he had only time to roll with it and not think about it.

"Is it what you did at the cineplex?" Blake asked, keeping his voice a soothing whisper and respectfully low.

"And that wasn't even the half of it," Blossom said. "I'm so stupid…"

"Don't say that. Everyone makes mistakes. You can't change the past, kiddo," Blake said. "But you know what you can change?"

"What?" Blossom asked.

"That rumbling stomach of yours," Blake revealed. One of his men was just coming up with a juice box and wrapped burger. "You're going to need to keep your strength up if you want to find Bubbles."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Abandoned)**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1920.**

Bubbles had been hiding ever since blowing up in front of everyone in the Business District when they were supposed to be fighting the Gangreen Gang. She'd been feeling ashamed of herself ever since, but as it was right now, that was the least of her worries.

Since the morning, she'd been silent the entire day and giving Blossom the cold shoulder because she knew she was going to have to kill her. Her silence, however, wasn't just to make it easier. She had been ever-watchful for opportunities to do so, and she had been spending every single minute thinking about the deed she had to commit, all for the sake of her next hit of His Secret.

She just couldn't stop going round and round in her mind, trying to convince herself that her actions were justified, only to realize that she was about to make a big mistake, then convinced, once more, that what she was doing was for the best - on and on. She couldn't help but imagine a hundred ways to get it done, to make sure.

And hours of it, combined with the pain and trembling and other withdrawal effects she had to endure at the same time, she couldn't help but go a little… crazy when Ace had sliced her with his sword. She knew she had failed then when pain overtook her and the Gangreen Gang bolted. She was convinced then that Blossom would be upset enough to hit her again.

And now here she was, trembling and sweating, all alone with only a dim red table lamp for company. How long she had been stewing on her own, however, she did not know, nor did she care to find out. It took her some time, but a plan began to form - a plan to isolate Blossom from everyone else and kill her without anyone looking or trying to intervene.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Business District. The Captain's Chair (Restaurant)**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1921.**

The entire day was too slow for comfort, just to drive the knife in. Blossom was miserable, and all she could think about was Bubbles. It didn't even occur to her that she was seated in a high-class restaurant, a fish out of the water with all the men in suits and ladies in dresses staring at her. Blake had thought that the least he could do was to give her a treat because of what she'd been going through, and so he landed his Chinook on the roof of a tower and brought her down to a restaurant in the same building.

Blossom, however, could be in a dingy and unsanitary eatery and she wouldn't have noticed. For the time being, she was alone as Blake was away, speaking to a waitress about the restaurant's arrangements and billing. It was another thing she didn't notice as she had long retreated inwards that she might as well be in a coma, a walking vegetable.

That was, until her cellphone began ringing with the familiar tone of the USDO hotline.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ It cried, begging for attention as if it knew what's coming. Reluctantly, Blossom reached for her pocket and pulled it out, flipping the high-tech cellphone open… only for her eyes to go wide.

On the digital screen, 'Bubbles is calling' was written in the center with a pixelized font. She pressed the 'Answer' button without hesitation and pushed the phone to her face quickly, afraid the call would disappear the very next moment.

"Bubbles! Where have you been? I've been so worried about you!" Blossom cried into the phone.

"I'm where you tried to leave me behind," Bubbles' voice said, unconcerned about the obvious worry and anxiety in Blossom's voice, cold and careless. "I want you to come alone. Don't tell anyone… or I'll kill myself."

Blossom froze when she heard it. She couldn't just feel a lump in her throat forming. It was as if she had just swallowed a huge rock, and it'd gone down to her stomach, and it felt heavy there. The restaurant was supposed to be heated to a comfortable, warm temperature, but it felt cold all of a sudden. She couldn't help but tremble - it didn't sound anything like Bubbles on the phone, even though she knew the voice belonged to her. It was completely nothing like the Bubbles she knew. Even while she was panicking while fighting Ace, Bubbles was recognizable.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

But she had to get her sister. Feeling that there was no other choice, she donned her flight pack, extended the glider wings and flew out of the restaurant, past frightened and shocked patrons, ignoring Blake and his men as they were shouting for her to come back. She busted through doors, and out into the night sky. She knew where she was going - but even as she was cutting through the snow in the sky, she had no idea what was waiting for her…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Abandoned)**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1943.**

"Bubbles? Where are you?" Blossom called out to her sister the moment she reached the place and stepped through the door. The adult products business office had been left derelict ever since it was found out to be a front for Townsville's biggest child trafficking ring, and in just over a week, it was already starting to look the part. Graffiti was everywhere on the previously pristine walls and the floor was littered with syringes and take-out packaging and used condoms. As Blossom passed by a room, she saw discarded ropes on the floor and blood everywhere. Another had a dead body in it. Townsville being Townsville, the place was overrun with crime and vice the moment it was disowned.

"Bubbles! Come out, please!" Blossom called out again but stopped. She thought she could hear whispering, and it'd made her hair stand, given her goosebumps. Something was wrong. Red flags were being raised in the endless rows of flagpoles in her head, everywhere. Shouldering her MP5, she followed the hollow sound of whispers coming from deep in the abandoned office.

The path she took felt familiar to her, even when she was hovering towards the whispers. Halfway along the way, she'd realized that she was taking the exact same route she took towards Bubbles as that terrible day, when they had trouble finding Bubbles, and- Blossom still could not understand what exactly did Bubbles suffer that day. It wasn't as if she was shot with Duranium bullets or sliced up with Duranium blades…

"I can't do it - I can't do it - I can't!" Bubbles was throwing a fit in the distance, unseen but heard very clearly, and it'd made Blossom very tense. Her ample imagination was playing all sorts of games with her. Bubbles sounded completely off-kilter - and with her BerXerker power seemingly more out-of-control than it usually was, Blossom could not imagine what she might have done to herself, considering that she threatened to kill herself on the cellphone.

"Please don't make me - please don't make me - please don't make me!" Bubbles ranted as Blossom got closer. She could only wonder who her sister was talking to - or what - if she was even talking to someone. "I… I don't… I don't want to…"

"She's a bad sister!" Bubbles suddenly growled. Blossom was close now, just a few feet from the door that would open to the red room and her sister. "She hit me and… she hurt me, bad - she's a bad sister! A bad sister!"

The door to the red room was ajar. Blossom pushed it open with the muzzle of her MP5. It'd opened smoothly at first until it creaked while it had nearly swung fully open. Blossom gritted her teeth at her failure to keep silent. There wasn't time to wait and think anymore. She would have to speak to Bubbles then and there.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. TPD Headquarters.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1929.**

Detective Mullens had been in his muscle car for the last twenty minutes. His daughter was sitting in the shotgun seat beside him. Stanley Talker, the talking dog, was in the backseat, scratching himself. The last few days had been hectic, and he knew a bunch of smokescreens and mirrors when he saw them. Crime was rife lately, and he'd chalked it down to the Amoeba Boys riling up the underworld to keep law enforcement busy - to what end, he had no idea. As a result, he'd been chasing ghosts and shadows, and his case-building had stalled to a point where he was beginning to wonder if he should just turn in his chips and hope that it was enough to bring down the Amoeba Boys. Maybe land them in prison for a few years, tops. A few years of their reduced involvement in crime could be a stepping stone to a cleaner Townsville, even if it meant that it wouldn't be anywhere near as clean a slate as he had envisioned in his 'pipe dream', as Detective Wednesday put it.

"This is Lieutenant Blake of the USDO, PTF-Three. Please respond, over," Mullens' radio had said while he was still sitting there, stuck outside the headquarters. "I repeat, this is Lieutenant Blake of the USDO. Please respond."

Detective Mullens did not respond immediately. He'd known that he had poked the bear for far too long, perhaps even gone too far and now the bear was going to bite back. He could sense it now - Townsville had been feeling the effects of an awakening giant that was the criminal underground. He wondered what his next radio call was going to be about. He reached for the radio.

"This is Detective Mullens. What are you doing on this channel, Blake? Over," Mullens replied on the radio. The USDO and TPD did not share the same radio frequencies for their activities and operations. Neither law enforcement organizations trusted each other. The USDO saw the TPD as being rife with corruption and generally incompetent while the TPD saw the USDO as being untrustworthy for being more shadowy and autonomous than they should be, of having their own agenda. They would only sync up their radios whenever there were working together in joint operations, and they tend to do it on the spot to avoid criminal espionage. That Agent Blake knew the TPD's Investigative Branch's frequency was fishy in and of itself.

"It's Blossom and Bubbles – they've gone missing, over," Blake replied. Mullens straightened up. The Girls were in trouble, and that was enough to get him riled up. His daughter, Olivia, did the same, but all she could do was look at her Dad tensely, not knowing what the hell was going on and possessing far less handle over the situation as the junior detective and the inexperienced one. It went double with her status as Garrett Mullens' daughter.

"Any idea where they could be?" Mullens asked, so concerned he didn't think of the right questions first, as a good detective should.

"I was hoping to find out from you," Blake said on the other end. "You've been working with them for a while now. Any information that could lead to their whereabouts?"

Blossom and Bubbles. Oddly, Buttercup wasn't even involved at all.

"I need the circumstances and context," the detective asked, driven to solve this case even if it wasn't his. The Girls had reached him, let him find himself again. They were responsible for his reunion with his daughter. He owed them one. Or two, or three. "What about motivation?"

"They were fighting. Some kind of sibling rivalry thing was going on between them – I wish I wasn't away – I should have seen it coming-" Blake had started freaking out on the radio. Mullens thought it was uncharacteristic of a USDO soldier – a veteran officer no less. But through this, he was able to tell that it was a genuine response. No ulterior motives and backstabbing involved. Even USDO personnel were suspects in his book.

"Calm down, Blake," Mullens said. "Did they say anything? They were having a shouting match, right? Like kids usually do?"

"Bubbles said that something was Blossom's fault," Blake tried to remember the tiny details. Being an agent to a shadowy organization, he was able to recall most of it with clarity. "She said that Blossom had done something. And there was something about being hard-core."

It was all starting to come together in Detective Mullens' mind.

"I think I know where they are," the detective said.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Abandoned)**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1947.**

"Bubbles," Blossom called out and struggled to think of what to say next. It wasn't supposed to be like this - it was never this way mere days ago, and it was all joy and laughter before things started going crazy in February. "Are you okay?"

Bubbles was on her knees, in the middle of the dilapidated red room lit by a single dim table lamp. She was trembling, and slapping herself over the side of her own head as she was speaking - Blossom knew now that her sweetest sister was alone. She had been talking to herself all along.

"Am I okay? Am I?" Bubbles answered oddly with another question.

"Okay, Bubbles, you're really scaring me," Blossom said. Her submachinegun was still up. "You were gone for so long and I was really upset and worried that you… killed yourself."

"You were upset and worried?" Bubbles asked cryptically. Her back was still facing Blossom, but she'd gotten up slowly, rising to her feet.

"Yes… Please, Bubbles. Let's just go home. Dad's really worried and sad too," Blossom pleaded with her sister.

"You're a liar, Blossom," Bubbles suddenly said. "This is where you did it. You tried to leave me here."

Bubbles' words had hit Blossom like a semi-truck. When Blossom realized just how deeply she had hurt Bubbles, partly with her Dad's lessons, it'd hurt her badly as well. Words could not express how she loved her sister - her sweetest sister, who would previously never hurt a fly, who'd treated even people who didn't deserve it nicely. She'd changed, and Blossom had always blamed herself for it.

"I… I'm so sorry, Bubbles. I really am," Blossom said, coming closer. Looking to her right, she saw the heart-shaped bed, now filthy with all kinds of stains, where Bubbles was held - for what, Blossom did not know. She assumed that Bubbles was there when she was attacked - or something. "I wish I didn't do it too…"

"I needed you, and you tried to leave me here," Bubbles continued. "I needed you, and you left me here!"

And she finally turned around, revealing what had become of her visage. Her eyes were a hellish red, more bloodshot than before. Her lips were dry and flaky. She had clawed herself in the cheek, and it was bleeding. Blossom lowered her MP5, disarmed by how contorted by hatred Bubbles' face was.

"You left me here!" Bubbles continued blaming Blossom for her past mistake, and the latter little girl didn't even try to defend herself because she knew how wrong she was. "You left me here and I could have died! I could have died, and you left me! YOU LEFT ME HERE!"

"Bubbles, please - believe me - I'm so sorry - I am so, so sorry!" Blossom cried as she backed away from the manic and crazed Bubbles, who was coming closer and closer to her. She'd backed away until she'd fallen into the heart-shaped bed. There, she sat, paralyzed by guilt. "I wish… I wish I could take it all back- I wish I was a better sister-"

"But you can be a better sister," Bubbles said as she grabbed Blossom by the neck, and she didn't even resist. Before she said another word, she slammed her hard down on the heart-shaped bed and straddled her there. Putting both her hands around her neck, she started squeezing, reluctantly at first, before doing it for real. "You can be a better sister by dying for your crime."

Blossom couldn't breathe - Bubbles had meant it, and she was giving her throat a squeeze so hard that she completely blocked her windpipe. Blossom's hand went up to Bubbles' wrists, but she didn't tug at it. Within ten, twenty seconds, that changed, however, as her reflexes took over and she began pulling at her wrists.

However, Bubbles was stronger as she was under the corrupting influence of His Secret 2.0. Blossom, on the other hand, was under the influence of Bubbles. The words she said had hit home. There and then, she truly believed that she deserved to die for what she did, and if it would make Bubbles feel better. As such, Blossom was even trying hard not to resist, to just let it happen and be over with.

Soon, she could feel herself drift as she became light-headed, as she slipped ever-closer to unconsciousness, with death not too far away.

'Do you see the holes these nails made, Blossom?' Blossom remembered Dad saying a week ago. 'They represent what happens every time you act poorly on your anger. For every wrong thing you say or do, you're hurting someone or something, and sometimes, they can be permanent like these holes.'

'Bubbles…' Blossom remembered that day as if it was a movie she watched five minutes ago. She remembered seeing the holes in the fence post made by the nails she had driven into it and imagining that it was Bubbles. She'd imagined it so well that she could see a vision of her driving Duranium nails into her own sister. 'I did this to her…'

She remembered her dear old Dad's words of wisdom - he didn't force her to make promises that time. He'd gently guided her to it then, the way only the kindest Dad she knew would.

'I'll be the nicest, sweetest sister to her ever,' Blossom remembered the promise she made all those days ago, and now she could make it right with Bubbles.


	50. Chapter 44: The Wages of Sin (Part 3)

**Chapter 44: The Wages of Sin (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**10 FEB (Friday) 1989. 2147.**

The fight at the Silver Age Cineplex in the Tenement Area had taken a lot out of Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. It wasn't quite over when they had gotten back home as their Dad had to patch them up, and that meant enduring stitches while sitting still like dolls. It was worse than fighting the bad guys as there was nothing they could do but to just take it lying down, and it was Dad doing the stitching. Even Blossom couldn't quite get the feeling out of her system that it was as if Dad was hurting them, even though she knew that it was exactly like taking a bitter pill to get better. Like how she had to drink water laced with painkillers occasionally.

Bubbles was the first to get the stitches, and she'd cried so profusely despite the stunning un-Bubbles-like display of berserk rage she'd put up to trash Naga like never before. Blossom had gone next - and her machete slash wounds required dozens upon dozens. Her gunshot wound was a separate, more painful matter. She tried with all her might not to cry as she knew that it might interfere with Dad's work, but she'd failed anyway. Even when the local anesthesia kicked in, it was still frightening.

It was only by her Dad's skill that it was over quickly. But even before that time, something else was on her mind.

Bubbles. And the realization of what she had done.

When the professor was done with her, he'd left her on a recovery bed next to Bubbles and gone away to work on Buttercup, who still had a sword stuck in her thigh, among other things.

Bubbles was still crying while she was recovering in the patient bed. It'd made Blossom feel terrible - as her leader, it was her responsibility to make sure they came out on top and in control, not half-dead after a close shave. It had also made her remember - and it made her remember well. Bubbles was half-naked in bed, and in pain and distress. It had mirrored that day in The Strip when she had tried to abandon her, even though she was miserable and had suffered in some way that Blossom didn't quite understand - all she knew was that Bubbles wouldn't cry for no reason.

"Bubbles," Blossom had called out to her poor sister.

"H-hmm?" Bubbles managed in between choking sobs.

"I'm sorry for what I did," Blossom had apologized. "I'm sorry I've been hitting you and making you cry. I'm sorry that I've been a terrible sister…" And she started sobbing too.

"Don't say that, Blossom," Bubbles had said.

"But I've been a terrible sister…" Blossom had stubbornly continued to berate herself.

"No, Blossom," Bubbles had met stubbornness with stubbornness. "Stop saying that. I'm happy to have a sister like you. I was always scared and weak and you were trying to help. You were always there for me. You protected me and played with me…"

Bubbles had said this, though, knowing that Blossom had slipped up more than once. She just didn't want Blossom to be sad and cry.

"I promise I won't hurt you again," Blossom said. "I promise…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Strip. Backside B2B LLC Office (Abandoned)**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1948.**

Blossom couldn't help it any longer. She fought against Bubbles when she drew closer to death by asphyxiation. Bubbles made sure to press her fingers tighter against her neck. It was at this point that Blossom decided that it couldn't be this way - Bubbles shouldn't kill her. Dad would be upset. As narcissistic as it was, she couldn't let herself be killed for her sake, because she meant too much to Dad.

Blossom struggled and tried to scream for Bubbles to stop, but she could only manage a squeak. With diplomacy no longer an option, she gave her a double knee in the back, sending Bubbles flying forward and crashing face-first into the headboard of the heart-shaped bed, causing it to crack. Blossom took a welcoming deep gulp of air before flying off the dirty bed and facing Bubbles.

"Blossom, what are you doing!?" Bubbles screamed in disbelief and disappointment. "You're being selfish! Selfish!"

"I'm sorry, Bubbles. I can't die. Dad will be sad if I do-" Blossom said, but Bubbles interrupted her in a manic fit of rage.

"You'll die anyway!" Bubbles screamed. "And it's all your fault!"

Before Blossom could say another word, Bubbles launched forward, blindingly fast, throwing a right hook, which Blossom dodged.

"Bubbles, stop!" Blossom pleaded even as Bubbles continued assaulting her – following up with a left hook, then an upper-cut, all of which she dodged. She was getting backed into a corner, so she gave Bubbles a hard push while her guard was loose, sending her crashing into the heart-shaped bed. One of its legs gave way.

Bubbles didn't give Blossom time to even speak. She sat up growling at her, her eyes perpetually red – not just the pupils, but the white around it as well.

"We're sisters! We shouldn't be fighting!" Blossom tried to reason with Bubbles. Bubbles replied by charging at her and swiping at her with her nails. Blossom parried the first swipe, but felt Bubbles' nails jabbing into her side, though it was thankfully caught by a Kevlar plate, which she could feel was damaged as if shot by bullets.

Pushing Bubbles' arms away, Blossom jabbed at her face with her fist, motivated more by fear than self-defense, and it connected, drawing blood.

Bubbles stumbled back, clutching her face.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me…" Bubbles cried deliriously. "You promised!"

"I- I'm sorry," Blossom blubbered at what she had done – she never wanted to fight with her sister. Bubbles, however, was less than sorry, as she took the opportunity to charge at Blossom and deliver a left punch, screeching like a banshee as she did. Blossom was able to parry that punch, but it had only been a distraction: she could feel nails swiping across her left cheek, raking skin.

That was followed up by a punch to her stomach, which was excruciating. Blossom sunk to the ground, on one knee. Determined to make good on her intention to kill, Bubbles reached for Blossom's neck once. Blossom, however, did a quick-draw with her pistol and fired only to miss when Bubbles slapped it away, the pistol tumbling far away, before reaching for her neck again. Blossom countered by grabbing Bubbles by her wrists.

Bubbles pushed with all her might, and she was winning before Blossom pushed back, trying to stand back up, only for Bubbles to compensate with a kind of strength unnatural even for an enhanced individual. The ground began cracking as a result, as if a sinkhole was forming. Blossom head-butted Bubbles in the teeth in an attempt to free herself, only to make her mad with the spilled blood in her mouth an afterthought for both of them. Frustrated and feeling cracks in her very psyche, Bubbles lunged at Blossom, sinking her teeth into her neck and biting down hard.

Blossom screamed in pain, but the same pain had given her strength. Forcing herself to her feet, she shoved a thumb into Bubbles eye to get her to release her jaws, and when she did, Blossom jabbed her in the side with a side-kick to create some distance before giving her the hardest upper-cut she could manage, throwing Bubbles across the room.

The leader of The Three stumbled back, clutching her neck. Blood was spilling from her neck. She could feel that her skin and flesh were torn.

Bubbles, crazed as she was and riled up by the taste of her sister's blood, scrambled on the floor and got on all fours. She snarled at Blossom like an animal, with her blood all over her mouth and cheeks, before flying up and crawling away at a shocking speed on the ceiling into the darkness.

Seeing her sister like this had scared the living daylights out of Blossom. Was this really the work of her BerXerker power going out of whack? Blossom wasn't sure anymore.

Although her chest felt like a prepubescent heart attack waiting to happen, Blossom inched her way towards the door, still determined to bring Bubbles back. In her mind, it was the only thing to do.

"Bubbles?" Blossom called out, anxiously searching the ceiling with her eyes, which she had lit up like lanterns. "I know you're-" the pain in her neck felt like it was getting worse with every second. It was slick with blood, and her uniform felt wet from both perspiration and blood. "I know you're mad at me but… can't we just talk?"

Blossom continued searching the ceiling as she walked out the red room and closed the door. Bubbles was nowhere to be found. A kind of disabling fear shot up in Blossom; she had a feeling that she might have run away again. That would mean she had to search for her all over Townsville again.

"Bubbles… please…" Blossom struggled to even speak. Giving up on the ceiling, she looked down – only for Bubbles to be there, rushing up to her and tackling her, throwing her through the door she had just closed with a loud crash.

"Urgggh!" Blossom screamed as she was sent rolling, but she managed to roll herself into a kneeling position and feeling desperate, charged up her heat beam for a quick shot and fired – only for Bubbles to grab her by the jaw and push her beam out of the way. With a hand on her collar, Bubbles slammed Blossom against the wall, still keeping her heat beam, which was gushing out fiercely, out of the way.

"Stop shooting!" Bubbles demanded, and when Blossom refused to, she slammed her head against the wall and made a hole in it.

"No!" Blossom screamed her defiance as she stubbornly continued to try to lower her gaze - but Bubbles was too strong and she was in a compromised position. Her face was so glowing hot that her skull was showing through. Her tears of pain and sadness boiled, forming thin, white wisps emanating from her eyes. Bubbles slammed Blossom's back through the wall this time and a second time when the heat beam continued to burn the ceiling, providing an ominous red glow to compliment the only working source of light in the room.

Blossom panted from exhaustion. The glow in her face quickly disappeared. Her skull had gone back into hiding.

"Why, Bubbles?" she muttered, her entire body flaring up in pain. "I… I apologized and… I thought w-we've…"

Bubbles interrupted Blossom by putting her index finger on her bloody lips. "Shh…" she hushed her up.

Bubbles' drugs had run its course, but her 'BerXerker' fury was strong as ever. For once, there was some clarity in her head even as she was panting with exertion herself.

"I guess I've never forgiven you," Bubbles replied, the growl in her voice gone. Blossom had stopped panting. The hellish red glow eventually disappeared too. "But… It wasn't because of that, Blossom, and I'm sorry."

"Wha… What… do you mean?" Blossom asked. She could feel herself slipping away. She had lost a lot of blood and spent too much Chemical X, and it was on top of the operations of the day. The back of her head felt like a broken light bulb and her back was burning as if slathered with acid.

Bubbles looked away. She looked like she had a lot going on in her mind - too much for a little girl, too much for the most innocent of The Three. It'd made Blossom worried. What in Dad's name is going on? It was as if the more she uncovered, the more she didn't know. It was like trying to unearth a pyramid.

"You wouldn't understand," Bubbles simply said, before returning her sad, regretful gaze on Blossom. She raised a fist at her while she was still keeping her pinned on the wall. But she held it there as if deciding. Pearls of tears and rivulets of sweat streamed down her cheeks when she realized how close she was to doing it, washing away Blossom's blood on her cheeks. Her fist faltered. "You've never understood me when you should have."

And Bubbles' internal conflict had saved her. Flashlights shone in from outside the red room.

"Blossom, Bubbles?" A voice rang out, strong and deep, in the abandoned building.

"Mister Mullens!" Blossom called out. Bubbles noticed too late but tried to cover her mouth anyway. She was caught red-handed when multiple beams of light converged on her.

"Bubbles - Jesus, what did you do!?" a female voice questioned, agitated. Shocked. It was Olivia.

Bubbles felt shame overcoming her, though it didn't last long. Her eyes went from baby blue to hellish red again. Her frustrations and anger were magnified ten-fold, and before that, it was barely bearable.

"Whar have you done?" a dog's voice spoke. "Rur-rles…"

Bubbles growled before the dog did.

"Bubbles - don't!" Blossom screamed when she realized what Bubbles was going to do. Letting go of her, Bubbles flew at Mullens' group, none of whom fired a single shot. Mullens was punched in the chest and knocked out of the way, slamming against the door. She tackled Olivia and sent her crashing into a wall outside. Stanley Talker had ducked out of the way, slinking into the shadows.

Bubbles, panting, turned around. With the poison in her blood triggered, her willingness to kill returned. She glared at Blossom, who was sitting against the wall, still clutching her neck. Half her uniform was redder than pink.

The drug-crazed little girl walked up to her, intent on finishing the job. But before she could reach her, Stanley Talker emerged out of the shadows, jumping in front of Blossom, illuminated by the injured little girl's eye-light and the singular lamp in the room. He growled at Bubbles.

"Rrrr… Step back, Rur-rles!" Stanley Talker warned, the hostile growl in his voice clear, primal, and his fangs were bared. "Ri consider you ra friend - Ri ron't want to hurt ryou!"

"Get out of the way!" Bubbles hollered at the talking dog.

"No!" Talker defied her stubbornly. Bubbles came a few steps closer, before breaking into a run. Stanley Talker jumped at her and bit her in the arm when she raised a fist at him. Blossom could feel it on the floor - the talking dog's pounce was powerful. So powerful that he actually floored Bubbles, and he stood over her, snarling and growling as he hung onto Bubbles' forearm stubbornly, his teeth digging into her flesh, drawing blood. Bubbles screamed, but not in the usual innocent way.

Bubbles punched Stanley Talker in the eye in response - and when he wouldn't let go, she'd done so multiple times until he did, cracking his canine ballistic goggles, even the side of his helmet. Throwing the talking dog off her, she gave him a hard kick and flipped herself into a crouching position. Stanley Talker whimpered. Blossom saw that Bubbles had done some cruel damage to his eye, which had swollen shut - half the dog's face was irregular in shape and mutilated.

Still, Talker hung on and tried to snap at Bubbles once more - only for Bubbles to seize him by the forelegs and hurl him into a wall - hard. There was a loud thump of flesh on concrete, and the concrete cracked with a loud crunch… though the concrete wasn't the only thing cracking and crunching.

"Mister Talker!" Blossom shouted, still in tears, shocked that Bubbles had continued to lash out at friends and family. The talking dog did not get up after getting thrown halfway through the concrete wall. At least, it wasn't for a lack of trying. He was able to drag himself a foot or two away from the wall before falling and rolling on his back, trembling and whimpering in pain.

Bubbles was clutching her arm in the meantime. Inspecting it, she saw deep puncture marks, made by Stanley Talker's teeth, going around in a half-oval pattern. Bubbles gritted her teeth, not just in pain, but in anger and betrayal.

She came up to Stanley Talker.

"You've been a very bad dog," Bubbles said, dispassionate, seething with hatred.

"Rur-rles…" the talking dog whimpered; every word spoken had to be paid for with pain. "H-have… mercy…"

"Mercy? Mercy is for the weak!" Bubbles screamed madly.

"Y-your… father rould be… dis…sappointed…" Stanley managed to say between labored breaths. "I… knew him since… Ri wassa pup…"

The mention of her father had caught Bubbles' attention. The reason why she could even comprehend the word 'mercy' was because of her Dad. He had taken great pains to teach her the concept. The mere memory of it had calmed her down, her eyes returning to a soft, friendly baby blue.

"Dad…" Bubbles mumbled.

"Bubbles, don't do it… He's your friend," Blossom had crawled up to her and hold her hand. "We can work things out as sisters. Please, let me try."

The rapid thumping of a helicopter's rotor blades could be heard outside. There were more footsteps in the distance.

"Please…" Blossom pleaded. Bubbles looked down, for once without hatred in her eyes, but regret.

"Blossom!?" someone shouted from somewhere in the building, close by. It was a male voice. Seasoned. "Bubbles!?"

A man in black gear and armor emerged in the doorway. More of them swarmed behind him. Some started helping Olivia up.

It was Mister Blake. The men behind him were Agent Fields and Sergeant Holliday.

"Bubbles – what did you do!?" Blake echoed Olivia's words without knowing it. "Did you do all this? Tell me you didn't."

"I did…" Bubbles admitted – too tired of hiding to lie any further. Regret was coming up in full force. She had done things she would never have done otherwise, and she had caused a lot of damage as a result.

Blake entered the room to inspect the damage. Stanley Talker was incapacitated and no longer very talkative. In fact, he was silent, concentrating solely on heaving his breaths and panting. His tongue hung out, limp, as though he no longer even have the strength to lift it. Blossom was a mess, and she looked like she was dry of blood.

"Medic! Get over here!" Sergeant Holliday ordered. Two men rushed over immediately.

"Holy hell, isn't this a bit much for a little sibling rivalry?" Corporal Zach, one of the attending medics, commented. Setting down a first aid kit, he began checking Blossom's bite wound.

"We're going to have to report this," Agent Fields said to his commander. "We'll have to take Bubbles in for this."

Agent Blake stared at Bubbles, who was looking down at her boots, unable to face anyone for what she had done. As if considering that option. And seriously, too.

Blossom had been listening. She didn't like the sound of it.

Two men, Sergeant Holliday, and Private Jessup, came forward, guns up. Holliday had an M9 Anti-Material Rifle, Duranium-barrelled.

"Sorry, Bubbles," Holliday apologized even as he was pointing his Girl-killer gun at her. Bubbles' eyes turned red. "I want your hands up now."

"Wait, no! Please!" Blossom could barely stand up, but she'd ran to shield her sister from the men. "Please don't take Bubbles away!"

"Guys, wait just a second," Blake said, gesturing for them to back off.

"But sir-" Agent Fields objected.

"Just wait!" Agent Blake repeated his order. "I didn't give any orders just yet!"

"Don't, Mister Blake!" Blossom pleaded for her sister. "It's my fault this happened – please don't take my sister away because of me. She's sorry too, right, Bubbles?"

Blossom turned around to look at Bubbles, but she didn't respond at all to what she said. Didn't so much as a nod.

"Your father needs to know," Blake simply nodded, and as he was looking down, unsure of himself anymore as if searching the dirty, bloody floor for a sign, he continued: "I'm going to have to inform him-"

"Please don't tell Dad!" Blossom pleaded. Blake stared hard into Blossom's pink, glowing eyes, searching them just like how he did it with the floor. "He'll be mad at Bubbles and… and it'll be my fault."

Blake appeared stock-still, thinking. Blossom couldn't see past the poker face he'd put up, even when his aviator shades were taken off for the night. She hated it whenever Blake became impenetrable - even though he was rarely this way. It was so not who he was, at least that was Blossom's impression of him.

"Tell you what," he finally said. "I'll leave it up to you. Tell him if you're feeling honest enough. Don't, if you think it's good for Bubbles. You're the smart one," Blake said.

"Does that mean you won't take Bubbles away?" Blossom asked, still concerned, still wearing that anxious look on her face, something which Blake found he couldn't stand. As unmarried as he was in his forties, as childless, it was something he thought should be foreign in a child's face.

"No, I won't take her away," Blake reassured Blossom.

"But sir, what about-" Agent Fields was about to advice against it, but Blake wouldn't hear about it.

"My decision's made. Now listen up!" Blake projected his voice his time, calling to attention everyone in the room. Not just Fields, not just Blossom, and Bubbles, but his inner circle as well as Mullens and Olivia, who were just recovering from getting thrown about like ragdolls by Bubbles. "Nothing happened here. Bubbles got upset. She ran away. It took us a long time, but we found her. We live happily ever after. End of story."

_Happily ever after…_ Those words had never sounded more hollow to Bubbles than it ever was. Agent Blake then turned to Blossom.

"You make sure you keep your wounds a secret from everyone except your family, you understand?" Blake ordered her. Blossom thought he looked mad. She almost wanted to ask if he was, but she decided not to in the end, afraid that she would find out it was true.

"Yes…" Blossom obeyed subserviently.

"Now come on, let's get the both of you patched up and home for dinner," Blake said. Everything was a blur to Blossom after that, as she was stuck in her own mind, trying to get a grip and accept what had happened between her and Bubbles, trying to accept that Bubbles had basically just tried to kill her in a deserted place. When she was out of the moment, it quickly dawned on her that it was a twisted affair. Corporal Zach was able to get them bandaged up quick and orderly, and before they knew it, they were led to Blake's Chinook. Had it been any other circumstance, Blossom and Bubbles would have marveled at the insides of the giant helicopter.

Detective Garrett Mullens and Olivia Mullens were left behind. Stanley Talker was checked on by Corporal Zach, and found to be stable, but in need of a doctor - or veterinarian. The senior, however, didn't get the crew to go home immediately. He'd stayed to light up, much to the concern of the daughter.

He lit a cigarette as he paced the room Blossom or Bubbles nearly died in. He started poking around, his motive a mystery even to Olivia.

"What are you doing, dad?" Olivia finally cracked and asked when she'd had enough of watching her dad strutting around, seemingly without purpose, smoking even though he quit a month and a half ago.

"This isn't the first time Bubbles acted this way," Detective Mullens explained. "Back at the stables, she took off just like she did today. Next thing we know, there's a stiff John Doe who turns out to be a USDO agent, and Townsville's very own Charles Manson got to laugh his way to… God knows where."

"What does that have anything to do with this?" Olivia asked, still clueless.

"I asked Blossom's father about the drugs that's been turning up all over Townsville," Detective Mullens continued. "He's all but told me that Bubbles is connected somehow, even if he doesn't know it, not yet."

The detective had been very careful where he was stepping, and down on the floor, he could see scuff marks. The Girls were herculean in strength, and it was easy for them to leave traces of their presence around. He'd spotted one - though it was still faint enough that even gifted police officers like his daughter could miss. The trail led under a bed, so he got down on his knees and peeked under there, bringing out his flashlight to see better.

Sure enough, there was a metal syringe there, likely slid out of view by one of the Girls.


	51. Chapter 45: Like The Seasons

**Chapter 45: Like The Seasons**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 2219.**

"-And they live happily ever after…" Professor Utonium finished off his last story, before leaning over Blossom to peck her on the forehead, then to Bubbles and doing the same. Walking around the bed, he sat down beside Buttercup and tried to do the same, but when she put out her hands as if to shield herself from a car crash, he decided not to and settled for a pat on her shoulder, which she shrugged off anyway. The professor sighed.

"Dad… Tell me again about the seasons," Bubbles asked just as the professor was about to get up and leave. She really didn't want him to leave. In the time since her attack on Blossom, she had come to regret her actions - and it was thoughts of her Dad that had snapped her out of it. She wanted to spend as much time with him as he could, thinking naively that, perhaps, doing so could solve all her problems.

"Which ones?" the professor asked, smiling at Bubbles' curiosity. He couldn't wait to usher the Girls into the other seasons of the year. It would be their first time experiencing them.

"The next one. Is it spring?" Bubbles requested.

"Yeah, I would love to hear about spring," Blossom added. She wanted to add summer to the list, but decided to be diplomatic about it and agree with Bubbles.

Buttercup, on the other hand, groaned at the prospect of having to listen to Dad. She was feeling exhausted despite having spent her entire day indoors and mostly idle. Everything had to be done painstakingly and tiresomely without her enhanced abilities, and it had worn her out. It was something that felt like she could never get used to, contrary to what her Dad said. She would never trust her Dad again.

"Well, spring is when it gets hotter, and the snow melts," the professor had returned to Bubbles' side, taking her tiny hand. "The sun will be brighter, the ground greener, the birds will start chirping and you can walk outside without your winter jacket and snowshoes. The trees will start growing leaves, and so will plants grow from the ground and flowers bloom. The world will be so much more colorful."

Bubbles teared up at the image she had formed in her mind. She had, of course, seen pictures of it, but she knew that it wouldn't be anything compared to the real thing. With what she'd been up to lately, it felt uncertain, somehow, that she would get to see spring even though she knew that she was going to live.

"What will we do in spring?" Bubbles asked further, her hand gripping the professor tightly. She really wanted him to stay. She was getting the shakes again, though she had been trying to hide it. She had one syringe left, and it would be an hour or two before she would dare to use it - any time earlier, and she would risk exposure.

"We could walk in the park, have a go at the playground. We could even have a picnic since it wouldn't be so cold," the professor said. "Me, Mom and the three of you. Imagine having sandwiches, fruits and orange juice in the middle of a field full of flowers under an azure sky… Bees buzzing about, butterflies fluttering around…"

"It sounds really nice, Dad," Blossom said, smiling at the imagery. It'd help her forget that her sister had nearly killed her for revenge. "I can't wait to have a picnic. It sounds like fun."

After giving the Girls his self-concocted images of spring to dream about, he switched off the table lamp and left them to join Selicia in bed.

Time seemed to pass slowly in the dark. Blossom's mind had gone back in time, to hours before. She couldn't believe that she and Bubbles could reconcile with each other so quickly after Bubbles had tried to commit sororicide.

'I promised that I will be the best and sweetest sister to you, Bubbles, that I'll never hurt you again,' Blossom had said to her while they were riding Mister Blake's Chinook towards home. 'And you can't kill me, or Dad will be really sad and I won't be with you and Buttercup. We're sisters, and we should help each other, not… kill each other. That's how it's going to be from now on, no matter what - just like Dad wanted. Okay, Bubbles?'

'Okay…' Bubbles had said, though there was something on her face that Blossom had trouble reading. With only three months of experience reading faces, she couldn't quite tell what Bubbles was thinking or trying not to reveal.

Blossom would go on to lie to Dad about what had happened later. She would defend Bubbles by lying that she had gotten angry again and said some mean words, causing Bubbles to run away, and when she found her, they fought and injured each other pretty badly. She would cover it up by saying that they had made up after that. Dad was, of course, angry, but surprisingly proud that Blossom didn't hit Bubbles at the beginning.

Touched by Blossom's selflessness, Bubbles played along, and acting on her regret, had tried to make up for what she did by being compliant and apologetic for the rest of the day, or what was left of it. There wasn't anything else she could do, at least while she was in the light.

The fairy godmother would be displeased, that she knew. But in the darkness, it was the least she could do for Blossom. Much as she was driven by her addiction to kill Blossom, she found that she couldn't do it. The fairy godmother had to understand, Bubbles tried to reason. There had to be a middle-ground between her addiction and her love for her sisters, Bubbles hoped and sincerely believed that that was the way forward.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 2315.**

Bubbles couldn't sleep. Her withdrawal symptoms were killing her. She could feel that her pajamas and her pillow were soaking wet. Her shakes were nigh-uncontrollable, and she was constantly thirsty and hungry, where in previous cases, she was neither. She was hoping that the fairy godmother would appear tonight and perhaps pity her enough to give her more of her magic, but she couldn't wait any longer.

She still had a single syringe of His Secret 2.0 left. Rolling over in bed, she spied on her sisters to see if they were asleep. It was easy to do so, as their eyes would glow when they were opened and awake, which was very visible in the dark. She couldn't see Blossom's glowing pink pupils and… were there speckles of green in the dark? Bubbles chalked it down to her withdrawal symptoms affecting her eyesight. She couldn't see Buttercup's glowing green pupils either. Both of her sisters were asleep. Good.

Folding her blanket off of her, Bubbles hovered out of bed and glided to the walk-in closet, opening the door and landing beside her tactical gear. She pulled her last syringe of magic out of a magazine pouch and padded towards the door leading out.

Her hands were shaking, and she made her way to the washroom urgently, her mind a muddled mess as she couldn't think straight. What clarity that was there in her mind was devoted to the drug, and how best to work with it - the washroom was perfect for cleaning up - she wouldn't want anyone to see the blood from injection herself with the drug, and she needed another bath to get rid of her perspiration and shakes.

All she could think of then was the drug - the drug that was in her hand. Closing the door to the washroom, she lowered the toilet seat lid and sat down.

Yes, yes, yes! She thought as she began the usual ritual for doping herself with the ambrosial substance, though at this point, it was more of a medicine to her now since a single dose could only be used to stave off the unpleasant withdrawal effects and help her get some sleep.

Slapping the crook of her elbow, she began by finding a vein, and when she spotted the largest one, stuck the needle in. Yes, yes, yes!

But what wasn't part of the ritual was the door to the washroom opening and in stepped Buttercup.

Buttercup's jaw dropped upon seeing Bubbles with a metal syringe in her hand, the needle stuck into her forearm. She had been having trouble sleeping herself, as she was still getting used to being sensitive to every sensation in her body - her thirst and hunger were stronger, for instance - and she was still depressed over losing her powers. It didn't help that she was wondering what action she had missed out because of it.

Buttercup froze in horror as she witnessed Bubbles' secret. She had seen the metal syringe before - they were found in many of the crime scenes she had been to. And the way Bubbles was using it… it was as if the needle was made of Duranium.

"Buttercup! you weren't supposed to get out of bed!" Bubbles said in disbelief when she had been caught red-handed. Her eyes shone red when she realized she was in trouble, and she couldn't control it. She couldn't control the anger and madness rising in her either, as she realized that she had to try to keep her drug habit a secret. By any means necessary.

The moment Buttercup saw Bubbles' eyes turning from baby blue to hellish red, she bolted. She knew what it meant, and she was terrified as she was powerless - in all senses of the word.

"MOM! DAD!" Buttercup screamed as she ran down the hallway, screamed like a baby, like never before. Bubbles flew up behind her, catching up within seconds. Taking her by the collar and neck, she slammed her against the wall.

"Shut up, Buttercup!" Bubbles warned her sister, who promptly obeyed, afraid of what she might do to her - afraid since she couldn't fight back. Bubbles' grip was iron, and Buttercup could not free herself with whatever pitiful strength she had left. Bubbles placed her index finger on her lips. "Shhh… It's going to be okay…"

Before Bubbles could do or say anything more, however, the master bedroom door slammed open. Professor Utonium and Selicia had rushed out, zipping and buttoning up whatever they could get their hands on.

"What's happening!?" the professor shouted urgency as he started flipping switches, lighting up the corridor they were in. "Buttercup?"

"Bubbles, what are you doing to Buttercup!?" Selicia scolded Bubbles when she saw her pinning her favorite against the wall.

"Mom! Dad!" Buttercup screamed and weaseled out of a stunned Bubbles' loosened grip. "Bubbles' been using drugs! Just like how you said not to!"

"But she's lying!" Bubbles lied, but she felt backed in a corner. Her mind worked like never before, fuelled by the desperation in her veins, both for the fairy godmother's magic and the maintenance of her relationship with her parents.

There was only one way to get out of it.

"I found Buttercup with this thing in the washroom," Bubbles lied and handed her syringe of His Secret 2.0 to Dad, all the while trying her best not to reveal her withdrawal symptoms.

"You lying piece of shit!" Buttercup yelled when she realized what Bubbles was doing. Angered and not thinking straight, she pushed Bubbles only to feel a brick wall. Surprisingly, Bubbles fell backward. When she came to her senses, she'd realized, too, that she had just dug a deeper grave for herself.

"Buttercup!" Dad warned the tomboy. "Language! Since when did you learn to talk like that!?"

"But she's trying to trick you!" Buttercup shouted, incredulous that she had been targeted when she was telling the truth.

"What do you say to that, Bubbles?" Dad asked the timid one, who had shed a few tears while she was sitting on the ground where she had been 'pushed'.

"Buttercup's lying and I can show you…" Bubbles claimed. Real tears had started flowing. She couldn't believe the extent she had to go to keep her secret – sacrificing a syringe that she was so close to using – but it had to be done.

"Mom? Dad? What's happening?" Blossom mumbled as she stood at the open doorway of her room, rubbing her eyes.

"Nothing, Blossom," the professor said. "I'm sorry we woke you up."

Bubbles, much to Buttercup's confusion and Mom and Dad's curiosity, led the entire family back into the Girls' room. She went over to the walk-in closet, opened the door wide and switched the lights on inside. Dad followed her in.

Buttercup knew what she was going to do the moment she stepped into the closet. The Mom had to hold her back when she tried to stop Bubbles. Selicia thought it was for the best – she didn't want Buttercup to get hurt and further incriminate herself.

"No! Dad! She's lying!" Buttercup cried as she tried to wriggle out of Selicia's hands, but she was too weak to do so even though she had gotten some of her strength back. "Mom! Stop her, please! Mom!"

From a huge pile of cardboard boxes, Bubbles pulled out a large one from the juicy center. It clearly had Buttercup's name on it, spelled as 'Butercub'. They took it out of the closet to be examined.

Once outside, the professor set the box down on the floor and uncovered the lid.

"NO!" Buttercup screamed. No one else in the room except her and Bubbles expected what came next.

There was something like forty or so syringes inside, all sheathed in metal. But that wasn't the only horror to be found in the box. There was a jar containing human teeth and nails, some still bloody, and some with rotten veins and bits of gum still attached. Animal bones were rattling inside as well. The only innocent thing to be found inside was Selicia's torn security gym towel, which Buttercup had taken to calling 'Blankie'.

"What is this?" the professor was at a loss for words. Angry beyond reason, he clutched a whole bunch of syringe and pulled them out of the box, holding them in front of Buttercup, who shrank away from his aggressive outburst. "How long have you been using these, Buttercup!?"

"But I didn't!" Buttercup cried. "I swear!"

"Don't lie to me!" the professor shouted. "Stop lying to me! How long!?"

Buttercup looked away instead, crying and shivering and afraid. Throwing the syringes full of His Secret on the carpeted ground, he pulled out the jar of teeth and nails and a handful of animal bones.

"How long have you been collecting these!?" the professor all but screamed at Buttercup. Even Blossom, who had no involvement in this, was terrified of Dad. However, she felt guilty for not keeping a closer eye on her wayward sister. "HOW LONG!?"

"I don't know!" Buttercup managed to answer, though she couldn't think of one at the moment because of how terrified and vulnerable she felt.

"This is sick, you know that!?" the professor scolded the little girl. He tossed the psycho-trophies back into the box and grabbed Buttercup, who hadn't and couldn't answer him, by the arm and started pulling her towards the door. "Looks like we're going to have to do a few more medical examinations on you tonight!"

"No, Dad, no! Not the medical examinations!" Buttercup cried as she struggled in vain to free herself. Tough as she was, she was afraid of what it might mean – she had already lost her powers to a 'medical examination' and she couldn't imagine what she would lose next. Her nose, ears, and fingers? Her imagination ran wild with fear.

The professor, meanwhile, thought that it was harder to drag her around, which could mean many things – the drugs might have undone what the Anti-X had achieved, or the Anti-X could be as temporary as conventional medication.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0050.**

"I couldn't do it," Bubbles lamented as she sat on the snow in the backyard, her head bowed as she knew she had failed her benefactor. "She's my sister and I couldn't do it."

The fairy godmother did not respond, and it made Bubbles scared. She was shivering in the cold, her bones felt like glass, and her muscles like frayed strings. Her nerves were on fire. Without the drugs or at least the madness kicking in, she felt like paper; weak and vulnerable. The drugs hadn't done her any favors in the long run.

"Then you've just broken a rule," the fairy godmother said coldly, and she was nothing like how she first behaved. The maternal warmth was gone. "You are supposed to do everything I tell you to."

"I'm sorry… I just couldn't…" Bubbles apologized meekly. After working up the courage, she looked up at the fairy godmother and immediately regretted it. She was glaring down at her, like some displeased goddess looking to smite someone. "P-please help me. I'm in pain. I can't take it anymore."

"Neither can I," the fairy godmother said, before turning her back on her and walking away.

Bubbles couldn't help but to get mad - to the point of her eyes turning hellish red. The fairy godmother was supposed to help her! She flew towards her, winding an arm up for a punch, but then there was light. It felt as if she had hit some kind of a hard barrier, and she fell into the snow, her head feeling like a cracked egg. She could already feel a gigantic bruise forming.

"You ungrateful little brat," the fairy godmother said as she put her arm down, dispersing the shield of red energy she had conjured to protect herself. "I helped you, and this is how you repay me? With disobedience and aggression? I asked for one tiny thing that would rid you of an evil sister anyway - and you tried to strike me?"

"I'm sorry – I just… I just need it," Bubbles said as she was recovering on the ground, cowering in the presence of the fairy godmother as she came back up to her, looming over her, looking every bit like a goddess deciding her fate, capable of destroying her with one wave of a hand. "Please – I need it. I just need it!"

"You'll have to be punished for breaking a rule, Bubbles," the fairy godmother glowered at her beneficiary.

"I'll take anything – please, just give it to me!" Bubbles begged as she scrambled to her knees, pulling on the hem of the entity's long skirt.

Smiling, the fairy godmother, who seemed to have lost some of her white glow, reached into her dark blue pouch and pulled out a needle-less syringe just like she did the last time. It was even larger than before, looking like it could give her two doses at once. "What's the magic word?"

"Please," Bubbles acquiesced, feeling in her guts that she could die any minute now without the drug.

"Tell me, Bubbles, what am I? How would you describe me?" the fairy godmother continued dragging their meeting out, her smile growing wider.

"You're helpful, Miss Fairy Godmother," Bubbles spat out the first word she could think of. She couldn't think with her insides on fire. But the fairy godmother didn't seem impressed. She glowered at her and was about to put her syringe back into her bag when Bubbles continued heaping praises on her: "You're kind, and- and nice and… really kind and-"

"That's enough," the matriarchal being stopped her before she could continue: "I'm glad you feel that way, Bubbles. Now stop talking and moving."

The fairy godmother made a hand gesture and red energy emanated from her hand, striking Bubbles. Bubbles fell backward into the snow, in a rough spread-eagled pose. She wanted to scream and beg, but she couldn't. Neither could she move her body; she had been completely paralyzed. Thrusting out her casting hand, she shot a continuous red beam at Bubbles, which engulfed her.

It was like being burned alive, but worse. As Bubbles endured the excruciating pain, she couldn't get away nor scream and beg for it to stop. All she could do was writhe a little – her mouth opened, but it was a silent scream. Seconds felt like minutes, even hours. Meanwhile, as the fairy godmother continued to render her punishment, she smiled and laughed in that silent way, her glow and blue eyes turning red, the maternal look on her face turning wicked. Bubbles' vision began to blur, then turn black…

"Wake up. Wake up, Bubbles," a female voice called out to her. She nudged her with what felt like a sharp point. Bubbles opened her eyes, hoping that it was Blossom, or even Buttercup, or Mom.

It wasn't.

"Who do you think I was?" it turned out to be the fairy godmother still, nudging at her with the point of her foot. "I've compressed a few hours of pain into a few minutes. Are you grateful I've saved your time?"

Bubbles sat up with difficulty. She was still feeling raw after her punishment such that she couldn't reply. The fairy godmother grabbed a whole bunch of her hair and yanked.

"Ow!" Bubbles cried, only to receive a slap from her benefactor.

"Quiet before I punish you again!" the woman said, her glow still red. Even her dress had turned red and black. "What do you say, you ingrate!?"

"T-thank you, fairy godmother. I'm grateful!" Bubbles wasted no time in filling the ethereal woman's ears with what she wanted to hear.

"Yes you are, aren't you," the fairy godmother said. "Before I give you what you need, I have one more favor to ask from you."

"I'll do anything, please-" Bubbles begged.

"I've invested a lot in you, Bubbles, whether you know it or not. It's not easy being here in this… filthy environment, and it's not easy making the right preparations and meeting you," the fairy godmother said. "You are difficult, Bubbles. You should be lucky I haven't given up on you."

"Please don't…" Bubbles mumbled.

"So you will do this for me: You'll kill the man you call Daddy…" the fairy godmother said this as she extended the large syringe towards Bubbles' face again. "And I'll give you twelve vials of my magic."

Bubbles' eyes floated to the ground the moment she heard this, feeling powerless to resist the request.

"But if you kill Blossom on top of that…" the fairy godmother added as she lifted Bubbles' chin so they could make eye contact. "I'll give you all the magic you'll ever need. I'll take you with me to my magical land, and it'll be quite painless from then on. I'll even take Buttercup with me so you'll still have a sister to play with."

Bubbles shut her eyes, not just afraid of the fairy godmother, but also of herself, because the temptation to kill Dad and Blossom was too great, and she was seriously considering it. She could only be grateful that she didn't need to kill Mom and Buttercup…

"What do you say?" the fairy godmother asked again as she pushed the syringe closer to Bubbles mouth. Bubbles forced herself on the syringe, gripping the woman's wrist with both her hands as she sucked on it.

The taste was horrible but she loved it – loved it to death. When the syringe was dry, Bubbles withdrew herself and started coughing and throwing up a portion of the drug in the snow. Instead of leaving it alone as normal people would, Bubbles bent low to suck it back out of the snow again, and when she couldn't get all of it back, she began eating the snow.

The fairy godmother watched with demented satisfaction in her eyes as the little addict degraded herself.


	52. Chapter 46: No Going Back (Part 1)

**Chapter 46: No Going Back (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown South. Happy Barker Pet Welfare Center.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0720.**

Olivia Mullens had been sitting beside the bed holding Stanley Talker for many hours. She was even sleeping in it. The past sixteen hours had been eventful, to say the least. The newly-christened Powerpuff Girls, already down a Girl, had gone missing, prompting a city-wide search by the USDO and select members of the TPD. It turned out to be a case of sibling rivalry gone too far, expressed in such a way only enhanced individuals were capable of. Blossom and Bubbles were hurting each other over certain differences.

If only that was it.

Yesterday, her dad, a senior detective made lieutenant just over a month ago, had discovered compelling evidence of something worse, something even more sinister. He found a metal syringe with 'His Secret 2.0' written on it. Signs at the crime scene suggested that either Blossom or Bubbles had used the drug. Chances were, it was Bubbles.

Olivia couldn't believe it herself when her father started putting it all together, but once the puzzle picture was assembled, it was all too obvious that she was surprised no one else figured it out. Bubbles had been acting strangely for the past week, gaining a new power that seemed mundane - increased aggression, increased strength, no inhibition, and glowing red eyes. No one in her family thought her 'BerXerker' power suited her, and they were right all along.

Her father reasoned that it wasn't a new power. He'd compared it to the cultists who had shown similar symptoms. They had interrogated said cultists, and they were all using 'His Secret 2.0' too. They, too, were more aggressive and stronger.

The other tell-tale signs of the truth had rolled out of his father's mouth smoothly. Professor Utonium of the USDO, suspected something, and he was the go-to person when it came to the stuff that made the Powerpuff Girls, or so Doctor Vanum, another prominent member of the USDO, said. Utonium was likely too biased as the Girls' father to see it. Then there were the suspicious happenings surrounding the death of a USDO intelligence agent Jackard and the disappearance and escape of Leopold Sutton, and Bubbles happened to be there too. For some reason, her dad suspected Bubbles of working with the Cult of His Promise too, somehow, despite being a mere little girl, endowed with superpowers but watched closely by parents and a federal agency.

There were still a few missing pieces to the puzzle, and one of them was the supplier - how would Bubbles be able to get a hold of her supply of drugs? They had seen her going off on the dope multiple times, which meant multiple doses of the stuff at least.

Stanley Talker's shifting had distracted Olivia from her thoughts. The talking dog had been out for fourteen hours, at least, and he had been operated on in that period, too.

When Stanley Talker was in need of medical attention, she and Detective Mullens were in huge trouble as Stanley was a sapient dog. The hospitals in Townsville were dedicated to Human patients, so a veterinary clinic was their best option. But that wasn't the end of the story. When the veterinarian on shift tried to operate on Stanley, she discovered that her instruments could not cut or penetrate the dog's skin and flesh - her scissors and shavers couldn't even cut the dog's fur!

Olivia had to call the USDO for assistance. They were surprisingly receptive, perhaps because of the need for inter-agency cooperation and PR management. They'd sent in a doctor, Simmons, to assist. The rest was smooth-sailing, if graphic and bloody. The USDO doctor had brought along instruments made of Duranium to operate on the dog, and within a few hours, were able to fix the fractures and flesh wounds in Stanley's face - most of it, anyway. Only time would tell what the prognosis would be.

"Rur-rles… No… Stop..." Stanley Talker whimpered as he shifted. His legs started sliding on the mattress as if running. A nightmare, likely. The blanket covering the dog had nearly fallen off, but Olivia pulled it up. Her effort was quickly undone, however, when the talking dog sat up, barking in shock as he transitioned from dream to reality. Olivia stepped back, giving him space - she knew what Stanley was capable of. A single accidental chomp from him could put her in retirement forever.

"Rrr… Sorry…" the talking dog apologized, before lying back down in bed, careful with the half of his face that was mending.

"Don't worry about it, doggy," Olivia said. Returning to his side, she adjusted her chair and sat down again, holding one of the dog's fore-paws.

Silence. Dreadful silence.

"Rur-rles… She…" the talking dog uttered. "Ris she… ralright?"

"She stood down, Stan," Olivia said as she stroked the dog's paw. She felt sorry for the creature. He was only two years old. In dog years, he was little more than an adolescent, still, and yet, he had suffered much - experimentation under the USDO, being hunted like an animal for weeks - after making a transition to becoming something more than a mundane animal - and finally, getting beaten to pulp by a little girl he thought was his friend. "Blossom and Blake took her home. I think she's sorry she did this to you, 'cause she stopped and…"

Olivia couldn't think of what to say any further.

"Ris she alright?" Stanley repeated his question and Olivia nodded as she understood why.

"She wasn't hurt," Olivia said and decided to keep it at that: simple and optimistic.

"Ris it over?" he asked further. Olivia shook her head as her eyes wandered down.

"No," she said. "My father thinks there's a lot more to it. He thinks Bubbles have been acting under the influence of drugs."

"That… Ractually makes sense…" Stanley Talker was still struggling to speak. The bandaged half of his face was still on fire.

Before they could continue their conversation, the door leading to the room they were in – a kind of animal ward – opened. Two figures walked in. A kindly woman in her forties with a stethoscope around her neck, the veterinarian, and someone familiar to Stanley Talker. There was something in his hand. A paper bag.

He was an old man from the USDO. Both the talking dog and Olivia could see a mix of both USDO soldiers and police officers guarding the corridor outside. The man was wearing a lab coat of some kind, with a USDO ID tag clipped onto his breast pocket. The talking dog sat up again on his hinds, startled by the USDO presence.

Doctor… Simmons? Stanley struggled to remember the name of the old man. He wasn't as developed the last time he met him, but this he knew: Doctor Simmons was one of the kinder humans in that hellhole of steel, glass, and experimental instruments and chemicals. Right up there with Professor Utonium and half his staff.

"-full recovery within days by your projection," the local veterinarian had just concluded she and the doctor's discussion when they came in.

"How's our little puppy?" Doctor Simmons asked, his voice a soothing, paternal, kindly tone. It brought back memories. "Ah, I see he's awake. That's good."

Stanley's memory of his younger years was fuzzy, formed mainly by smell, and hearing. And something else was causing other memories to float. As Doctor Simmons got closer, he took something out of his paper bag. A styrofoam box. The smell of meat was strong.

"It's not healthy to feed a dog meat and food processed for human consumption, you know," the veterinarian - a woman in her forties - warned.

"No, this canine's different. He's enhanced, and that includes his diet. He's healthy as heck, too, as one of you younger generations would say," Doctor Simmons explained. He opened the styrofoam box and set it down beside Stanley Talker. There was a beef burger inside, stuffed with an egg, lettuce and tomato ketchup. Turning to the dog, he went on: "It's not the same as those medium-rare steaks from the cafeteria I gave you when you were a pup, but I'm sure it'll serve."

"Roctor Rimmons," Stanley Talker greeted the man. When he got close enough, he lunged for a hug, giving off a whimper, a good kind of whimper analogous to how humans would cry when meeting a friend dear to them after a long absence. "Ri rissed you!" He gave him a few licks in the face before letting go.

"Look at you – all grown up and serving the public as an officer too!" the doctor said and admired the dog as one would a human son. "I knew you had it in you – the USDO was wrong to write you off. I heard the stories from Detective Mullens and it more or less confirms that you wouldn't have been a liability if you were made a prisoner. I mean, just because you can talk – in great volumes too – does not mean your audience will ever be the enemy-"

Olivia cleared her throat to signal to the doctor that they had to move on. Detective Mullens happened to be at the doorway leading in too, leaning against the door frame. Olivia knew that he was going to talk about business the moment he stepped in.

"Look at Talker, pops," Olivia said to her father. "He's already moving about, right as rain."

The senior detective came up to them, looking over shoulders. Stanley Talker was taking intelligent bites out of the burger, using his fore-paw to hold it in place, quite unlike a normal dog which would have spilled food everywhere.

"That's… great," the detective said. Olivia knew better than to raise an eyebrow. She knew what was next. But it wasn't so for the rest of them. "Listen, we need to talk. Something big's going down and we need to be ready." He then turned to the veterinarian. "Scuse me, ma'am, but can you give us a minute? Police business."

The vet walked away really quickly. In Townsville, police business wasn't just serious business. It was lethal business - no matter what kind of police officers were in the room - angels or demons, someone was likely to end up dead or wishing he was dead.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0833.**

There was no church this Sunday. Blossom did not know why, but from her perspective, she believed that it was her fault somehow, and it was because of what happened yesterday, both between herself and Bubbles and Buttercup. Thinking back, Blossom thought she had a good feeling about the warehouse church - the Church of the New Trinity. It would have been fun if they could be back there as they were treated like royalty, but it was not meant to be.

Instead of going outside, the Girls ended up playing in their room after breakfast instead. For the past twenty or so minutes, Blossom and Bubbles had been operating a daycare center with dolls and soft toys for babies. Bubbles had participated half-heartedly, while Blossom thought that this was what they needed.

Buttercup hadn't joined in even though Blossom had tried very hard to recruit her to run her daycare center. Instead, she had opted to hide in the walk-in closet, hugging 'Blankie', her Mom's discarded gym towel, which she had saved from the trash over a month ago, and more recently, saved from destruction the previous day.

Speaking of the previous day, it was traumatic for her. The professor had dragged her down the underground lab, poked her with needles and stuffed her with medication. She remembered getting drowsy from some of the bitter stuff and being sent into the MRI machine. She remembered being barely conscious when she fought against being strapped into the Duranium bed, likely to be gassed with whatever it was that took away her powers, only Dad had just stood there, looking over her, thinking, himself emotionally affected. Upset.

He was trying to scare her, Buttercup believed so. And she was scared and scarred out of her mind until she was released and put back into bed.

"This baby needs a new diaper, Bubbles," Blossom said to her sister before handing a life-like baby doll to Bubbles, who didn't look any better than she was the previous day. Her whole daycare center pretend play had inadvertently reminded her of the baby she saved at the Cult of His Arm compound. She could only wonder how the baby was doing now, as Mister Mullens didn't tell her.

"She's yucky," Blossom pinched her nose and pretended that the baby (which was so obviously real) had defecated into its diaper and stunk as a result.

Bubbles took the baby wordlessly, averting eye contact with Blossom, before setting it down on a proportionately small plastic toy table before her. She had held the baby wrong by picking it up by the neck and plopping it down on the little table butt-first.

"Bubbles, what's wrong?" Blossom asked, but Bubbles was tuned out, going through the motions with changing the diaper on the baby, at one point standing the baby on its head while she undid the 'soiled' diaper. Blossom knew that something was supposed to be wrong – it's why she decided to play with her… to work things out so they could be close again, like before.

"I think we need to forgive each other, Bubbles," Blossom went off the seat of her pants. Forgiveness was the problem, wasn't it? At least, she thought it was.

"You'll forgive me, Blossom?" Bubbles asked. Her question had raised others in Blossom. There was something off with the way she phrased it, though she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Yes, of course," Blossom said, deciding that it was nothing. "You're Bubbles! What would I do without you?"

"I forgive you too," Bubbles said. "I just want you to know that before…"

Bubbles fell silent after that.

"Before what?" Blossom asked, further confused.

"Before our third month's birthday, I guess," Bubbles said, picking something off the top of her head, though it wasn't quite at the summit of it. Something ugly had already occupied that spot.

"That makes sense," Blossom said. When Bubbles was finally done with the baby, she handed it over to her sister, who returned it to a toy cradle. The toy baby was able to fit snugly in it even though it was comparatively small.

They continued playing for some time, though it wasn't as fun as it used to be. Blossom would feed the baby a bottle of formula, while Bubbles cradled another in her arms, going through the motions, more like clockwork than a mother. Her mind was elsewhere, even the naïve Blossom could tell.

"I wonder how it'll be like to be a mother and have my own baby…" Blossom rambled as she rocked the cradle of her toy baby. "Taking care of it like how Dad and Mom took care of us…"

Bubbles remained silent. Blossom thought she looked bored, though that was far from the truth, just like how the fact that her growing up, having a baby and caring for it would never be reality - not that Blossom knew.

Sensing that they needed a new activity, Blossom switched out their daycare center set and took out their stable set. Hoping to get Bubbles to be more involved and invested, perhaps mend their interactions, she invited her to set up the toys, which consisted of a stable for horses, a corral and numerous horse figures of various breeds. Bubbles, however, didn't look more involved and invested, as she continued looking away. She didn't look like she was having fun, as she was sluggish about it, lacking the energy and vigor of excitement while she was setting up the toys for play.

"Neigh… Neigh!" Blossom imitated a horse's call as she moved one of the horses closer to Bubbles. Bubbles, on the other hand, hadn't done anything. Her eyes were dead, staring into the distance. "Don't you wish we'll get to see a real pony? I want to see a real pony and ride one too, in a real stable, not like the one with cultists in it…"

Bubbles remained silent. Blossom stared at her, upset that she hadn't responded.

"I remember Dad saying he'll take us there someday, when it isn't so cold, like in spring," Blossom continued, still trying to connect with her sister somehow. Bubbles turned to look at her.

"Spring?" Bubbles repeated the word. Before the fairy godmother and the crazy drugs she got her hooked up on, it was one of those things she was obsessed with.

"Yeah," Blossom said, encouraged by Bubbles' attention. "Remember what Dad said yesterday too? We get to do picnics too in spring, and all sorts of things. Maybe all of them in one day!"

"Maybe…" Bubbles mumbled. She pushed a plastic horse closer to Blossom's, right up beside hers. She didn't look like she was having fun, though. She even looked upset after moving the horse. "I guess the flowers would be nice. Like the Dandelions."

BRZZZ! BRZZZ! BRZZZ! The USDO hotline interrupted. Blossom sighed. The harsh, urgent tone of the deceptively cartoonish phone was a reminder of how her days were like these days – all crime-fighting and no fun. With Bubbles losing her grip on her true self, it was the last thing she needed.

"Can't we just have one day to ourselves?" Blossom said dejectedly before reluctantly scooting over to the phone and picking it up.

"Powerpuff Girls! We're in trouble!" an unlikely voice, panicky, screamed through the phone. Blossom almost didn't recognize it. But there was something else that caught her attention. "Big trouble! Help!"

"What did you just call us?" Blossom asked. "Did you just call us Powerpuff Girls?"

"Yeah. Don't you know? That's what everyone's taken to calling you these days," it was Mayor Wilford, and he wasn't his normal self. Blossom thought that the venerable old man would be the last person in Townsville to freak out.

"I like it! It's even better than 'Angels of Justice' and waaaay better than-" Blossom exclaimed. The Mayor had to interrupt her. Being named something awesome had all but distracted her from her troubles, and evidently the Mayor's.

"There's no time! Please hurry! The City Hall's under attack!" the Mayor screamed again into the phone, his voice higher-pitched than usual. There was the sound of machinegun fire and grenade explosions in the distance.

"Hold on Mister Mayor, we're on our way!" Blossom said urgently before speeding into the walk-in closet to get changed. Bubbles followed suit. Buttercup had to duck out of the closet, though she discovered something along the way – she was faster than before! Sure, it wasn't like before, not by a longshot, but she'd still be able to win Mac in a footrace by a mile in her sorry state. Her powers were returning!

Blossom and Bubbles were decently surprised when Buttercup had taken out her stuff after them. The fact that she could carry all her gear in a single pile was a clear indication of her return to form all by itself.

But she was slower and more sluggish with her load. If she had recovered her powers, it wasn't total.

"Are you sure you should be following us?" Blossom asked.

"I sure am! I can't wait to kick some butt!" Buttercup exclaimed confidently, though her speed had a different façade. Even by the time the other Girls were done, she wasn't even halfway through her speed-changing. But they did saw her hover as she was putting on her military cargo pants though.

Rapid footsteps outside the door, however, put a damper on Buttercup's confidence. The door opened while Buttercup was still in the middle of wearing her vest.

"Buttercup?" Dad said, looking just as unsure of himself.

"I'm going, Dad," Buttercup said defiantly as she was quickly attaching her Kevlar leg guards. Although she had regained a part of her strength, she could feel the weight of her gear.

"And I won't stop you," Dad said, to Buttercup's surprise. He came up to her and gave her a hug. This time, she did not resist, though she was anything but warming up to it. "I've thought about it, and I guess being just a little girl isn't who you are."

Of course, that wasn't the only reason. The USDO had ordered him to cease and desist and let Buttercup be. However, his personal reasons weighed heavily – and that had stopped him from applying more Anti-X on Buttercup and claimed ignorance when it came to the reversal of her disempowerment.

"You just have to make me a promise, Buttercup," Dad said firmly. "And keep it, or I'll make sure you lose your powers again."

"What is it?" Buttercup asked, still vulnerable enough to be affected by Dad's threat. Looking around her, she felt herself surrounded by enemies who would help Dad go through with his threat. Bubbles had revealed her dark secrets, her skeletons in the closet, while Blossom was Daddy's Girl, and would never fail to tell on her and force her into the straight and narrow road… which she hated with a passion.

"No more trophy collections! I don't want to stumble upon another jar of teeth in my house again," Dad ordered - he couldn't believe the kind of words that were coming out of his own mouth. A jar of teeth as a trophy? It wasn't the kind of thing a normal family would talk about.

"Okay…" Buttercup grudgingly said. She had wanted to object to it but felt it more prudent to let it be.

"No more drugs – I know you think it's normal or cool to use it, but those criminals were criminals for a reason!" Dad gave his second demand.

"But-" Buttercup was about to claim innocence, but she was quickly interrupted.

"No buts! And no more lying to me again!" Dad demanded. Buttercup stared at him long and hard in the eyes, before withdrawing her eyes in submission. It was the only way out.

"Okay…" Buttercup said.

"And finally, no more unnecessary hurting and killing," Dad hit the nail in the coffin, wagging a finger at Buttercup.

"I promise…" Buttercup said, without really believing in what she said. However, she knew she wouldn't be able to pull off any assassinations any longer – everyone knew what she'd been doing in the dark and would always be watchful of her. And one of them just so happened to be able to see through walls.

"Good. Now don't let me keep you," the Dad said, before sitting down on the Girls' bed. Mom stood at the hallway, looking almost horrified, too much so to enter the room. Buttercup caught sight of her, and when she called out to her, she didn't come any closer. A look of disgust, not quite plain as day, but visible, was on her face. Buttercup knew what it meant.

"Remember to stay together out there, Girls," Dad said before they flew out of the circular windows.

"You'll have a family as long as you do," he'd said this, and it was obvious even to the Girls that he did it with less conviction than before. He wasn't blind to what was going on between the Girls, at least not totally. There would be a fallout between Bubbles and Buttercup, and Blossom and Bubbles would need time to rebuild their love and trust for each other after the intensity of the fight between them, as far as he knew. Just by treating their wounds, he knew that they were furious with each other. Their wounds were severe, which meant that they weren't holding back from hurting each other - Bubbles far more so than Blossom, which was expected considering her BerXerker spiraling out of control like a failing airplane.

It went without saying that the state of Blossom and Buttercup's relationship had a lot of uncertainty, too.

When the Girls finally flew out of the windows, Buttercup was floating lazily out compared to the others, with little green sparks sputtering still, no doubt from the Anti-X still contaminating her bloodstream. The wayward one had time to look back, still fixated on Mom. Professor Utonium sighed, and Selicia walked into the room and sat down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. The professor sighed.

"What am I going to do with them?" he said, putting his face in his hand. "It's as if they aren't sisters anymore - so much for nurture. Nature has won; like their very cells know they aren't related. And Buttercup… I still can't believe what I saw yesterday."

"Thomas, stop," Selicia hugged him tighter. "You're not alone - stop taking this burden on your own."

"It's not like the USDO is helping," the professor lamented.

"I'm talking about us. I was there yesterday when I saw it too. I know I'm fucked up but that jar of teeth and nails… Those drugs…" Selicia couldn't help but ramble as she spoke. She caught herself doing it and went on: "I don't think it's as bad as it really is, Tommy. They're kids, and they've been through some serious shit. I've never heard of this happening before, not even in the third-world countries I've been to; it's beyond even the child conscription going on in those places."

"That's dark," the professor said, sounding like he'd gone beyond rock bottom after what Selicia had said.

"My point is, they're better than they appear. I've seen some of my security colleagues handling it worse. Some guys snapping in the middle of combat and didn't quite recover after that. But our Girls - they are enhanced. They will recover after this - when it's over," Selicia tried her damnest to sound optimistic. The Girls were gone by now - Blossom and Bubbles couldn't be seen, while Buttercup was tiny against the wintry dark sky. A pink streak of light soon returned, going around and behind the green light that was Buttercup, before pushing her and accelerating her out of view. Selicia smiled at the little light show. The professor had seen it too. It'd offered him a glimmer of hope. But it was but a glimmer, and now it was gone.

"The USDO council wouldn't let them go after I create their reinforcement," the professor revealed, and it'd taken the words right out of Selicia's mouth when it did. "I tried making a deal with them. We leave the USDO forever and they'll leave us alone forever unless something's going to blow up the planet. They rejected my proposal. Said that we're still in the program. The Girls too, and they'll have to fight if the reinforcement couldn't handle things."

"What did they offer? What did Cliff give us?" Selicia asked.

"Just reduced responsibilities for the Girls," the professor said. "Which is nothing. We all know how the director is like. He's going to make them fight every time some second-rate mutant freak from the Foundation shows up."

"The Girls are barely hanging on now," the professor cried. "And if this keeps up…"

"It's a start, Thomas," Selicia comforted the professor. She gave him a kiss on the cheek that calmed him down, slightly. "If you create this 'reinforcement', the Girls will have help. Cliff's still giving way, even if it's only a little." She stood up and beckoned for Thomas Upton to do the same, guiding him with her hands on his chin. "You stood up to him for the kids, and you made him budge. You're the only man to have managed that besides… I don't know, Blackwater?" She pressed her forehead against his, lowering his head to allow it. "You're strong. You always have been."

"I don't know about me, but are we strong enough? Are the Girls?" the professor wondered.

"Come on, Thomas," Selicia took the professor by the hand and led him out of the Girls' room. "You worry too much. There's nothing more you can do. I'll show you a little something to take your mind off everything…"


	53. Chapter 47: No Going Back (Part 2)

**Chapter 47: No Going Back (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Sky. Towards Central District.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0857.**

"Bubbles, slow down a bit!" Blossom shouted at the top of her lungs at Bubbles, who was forging far ahead, nearly out of earshot. It was by dint of her superior lung capacity that she was able to shout loud enough. The winter wind was especially strong this day, and both Blossom and Buttercup were unable to extend their glider wings with the former boosting the latter and the latter's arm around the former's neck. They were slower as a result, and without their glider wings, they were spending more effort steadying their flight path.

Bubbles slowed to roughly their same speed, only to look back with hellish red eyes as if with ill intent, a frown on her face that scared even the freshly-empowered Buttercup - something even the tomboy couldn't manage.

"I think we should stay away from her," Buttercup mumbled, afraid that Bubbles would hear.

"You really shouldn't have followed us, Buttercup," Blossom turned to her and said. "You're still weak and so you need rest. I didn't even think you'd get your powers back. Dad said you wouldn't."

"She's getting away!" Buttercup exclaimed. By the time Blossom looked at Bubbles, her streak of baby blue streak (with a red core) was all that was left.

"We need to hurry!" Blossom screamed and pushed herself to maximum speed. "Fly faster, Buttercup!"

"I'm trying!" Buttercup shouted. But they couldn't catch up with Bubbles. Despite the dark sky, they couldn't even see Bubbles' X-energy contrail anymore. "Why is she in such a big hurry anyway?"

"Oh no…" Blossom uttered when Buttercup had made her realize Bubbles' intentions. "We need to hurry too! She'll hurt lots of people if we don't stop her!"

There was no other reason for it. Blossom knew intimately how it was like to be really, really angry. Whenever she was, all she ever wanted to do was to scream at people and hit things, even hurt people, like Bubbles - something she had regretted time and time again. Something she knew that Bubbles would regret in the future, for a long time to come.

What she couldn't understand, however, was the reason why Bubbles would be set off like that. Blossom thought she'd been very accommodating and serious about mending their sisterhood. She thought she'd showed it well enough with her carefully chosen words and playtime activities, which was the first thing on her mind even before breakfast. What had gone wrong?

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Central District. City Hall.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0857.**

Amid blaring orders in the radio from the various flight control towers to control Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup flew towards the City Hall, where the emergency was. By the time they reached the governmental building, there was a hole that looked like it was made by a wrecking ball, but they both knew who made it.

Flying through the hole, they could immediately see for themselves how right Blossom was - though it had gone way further than what Blossom's innocent mind could conceive.

Bubbles stood in the center of a lobby area, her back facing them, her MP5 held in one hand, smoking. Her legs, her arms, and her gun were covered in blood. But that wasn't the worst part. The floor was completely carpeted with them - with whoever had started the emergency in the first place. Bodies were torn up, bisected, blown up, split apart, intestines spilling, blood streaming, pooling around the mat of torn flesh, organs and skin. Heads had rolled, and this time in plentiful quantities, all over the place.

Blossom and Buttercup landed a distance from her, afraid to come close. Had this been a week ago, Blossom wouldn't have believed it - Her! Afraid of Bubbles! Buttercup had her own submachinegun drawn - without her powers fully restored, she had become fully dependent on conventional weapons. The leader sister signaled for her to keep her weapon down.

"Bubbles?" Blossom called out to the blonde enhanced little girl. There were beads of red in her hair, too. "What did you do?"

"What I'm supposed to do," Bubbles said, her back still facing them. Her gun still smoking. Blood still dripping down her vest, her hands. Her gloves were torn again. She had been clawing at whoever the carpet of human remains used to be. "Fighting crime."

"But this is not the way to do it," Blossom said in a hushed tone as she was afraid that speaking too loud might set her off again.

"Then HOW am I supposed to DO IT!?" Bubbles screamed anyway, whirling around and marching up to them, her eyes flashing red and bloodshot to boot. Her face contorted by hatred. "Isn't THIS what YOU want!?" The way she was acting right now had reminded her of Buttercup, but much, much worse, and Buttercup was supposed to be 'messed up' in the head.

"Bubbles, I think there's something wrong with you," Blossom finally said - expressing the epiphany that was going on in her mind. If Buttercup wasn't right in the head and Bubbles was much worse, then she must be something worse than being 'sick in the mind', as Dad had explained in simple terms. Somehow, she was starting to think that it couldn't be her BerXerker power. None of their other powers had that effect on them, no matter how deadly they were.

"Gee, you think?" Buttercup had muttered unwisely, the lack of wisdom in it topped only by the volume of her mutter; both Blossom and Bubbles heard it.

"There's ALWAYS something WRONG with ME!" Bubbles screamed in what was becoming her usual manner: unhinged and aggressive to the extreme. "NO! There's something WRONG with YOU! BOTH OF YOU!" She took aggressive steps towards Blossom, who backed away a few steps. Buttercup raised her MP5, putting it to Bubbles' head in the hopes that it would scare her as it used to, but Bubbles didn't even react to it.

"Bubbles - stop!" Blossom pleaded with her sister. "We talked about it yesterday! Please - w-we're a family…"

"NO! I WON'T STOP!" Bubbles screamed madly, knocking away Buttercup's MP5 and standing closer to Blossom. "I'll NEVER stop! I CAN'T stop! I can't! From now on, I'm flying ALONE!" With that, Bubbles flew back through the hole she made with a louder explosion of energy, rather than the usual, quiet and even soothing 'pew' sound. She had disappeared so quickly that they couldn't tell where she was going.

Before Blossom and Buttercup could give chase, however, a familiar voice had called out to them.

"Powerpuff Girls!" Mayor Wilford had emerged out of a door leading to some kind of a lounge area, Miss Bellum and four mayoral bodyguards, with bandoleers thrown over their suits and armed with heavy weapons, behind him. He didn't look glad at all to see them. "I need to have a word with both of you. Now!"

"Powerpuff Girls?" Buttercup muttered, confused.

"That's our team name now," Blossom clarified with her sister.

"It looks like the emergency's over, Mister Mayor," Blossom said. Despite being far from Bubbles' handiwork, some of the blood had managed to get under her boots. She made a face and side-stepped the stream of blood flowing towards her. "Even if it didn't end the way I want it to…"

One of the mayoral bodyguards had gone up to the pile of dead bodies. Kneeling down and setting aside his M16, he rolled one of the more intact bodies over. He looked like he recognized some of them. The mayor and his USDO contact, Bellum, turned to look, and they, too, had that face, the kind one would make when someone was familiar.

"Over? Over!?" Mayor Wilford turned to Blossom and exclaimed all of a sudden, incredulous and angry. He stamped his cane on the marble floor. His one good monocled eye was glaring so hard at her that she thought it might emit laser the next moment. "Your sister, Bubbles Utonium, is out of control! She's worse than these... suicide minions the Lombardi had sent!"

Blossom's eyes drifted to the floor. Her hands felt like they didn't belong anywhere all of a sudden, so she kept them folded over one another in front of her. It felt as if her past was coming back to haunt her again. The mayor's harsh, loud words had reminded her of Highway 13, and how he had dressed them down for wounding over sixty civilians and accidentally killed several of them while chasing a few criminals in a car.

"Three of my bodyguards were out here, Blossom Utonium!" the mayor shouted at her, jabbing his crooked finger, which resembled a twig, into her collarbone. He was surprisingly strong for a man born in the previous century. "You are supposed to be her leader, her commander!"

"I know, I've been trying to-" Blossom couldn't finish a sentence when she was cut off.

"Remember that surprise I mentioned a couple of weeks ago? I have half a mind right now to cancel it! And it's a huge, huge surprise too!" the mayor reprimanded the little girl.

"No!" Blossom exclaimed - she had been looking forward to the surprise, thinking about it almost every day.

"Just go! I don't think your crazy lunatic of a sister is done yet. I don't want to hear it - actions are louder, so go and stop her before I do it my way!" he said as he stamped his cane on the ground harder.

Blossom and Buttercup scrambled off before Mayor Wilford could say anything more, and took flight, with Blossom wiping tears from her eyes.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Sky. On Patrol.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0907.**

Much of the day had been spent trying to catch up to Bubbles. The flight control people had been trying to help, too. The plan was simple: they would issue a mission over the radio on the Powerpuff Girls' general frequency. All three of them would hear it. Mission parameters would be exaggerated to lure Bubbles to the established location. Externally-issued missions from the TPD and other federal and local agencies were rejected and Project Powerpuff was officially brought offline until the matter was resolved.

Bubbles, however, simply did not want to be found. But she had left a trail of breadcrumbs in her wake. Bloody, gigantic breadcrumbs, smeared against sidewalks and brick walls and lawns. Blossom, feeling responsible for the citizens Bubbles had assaulted, attended to all of the victims. Those who would talk told the same stories. An office worker had littered and was given a savage beating for it. He had to be taken to the hospital for a few broken bones. A kid whose basketball had smashed a window by accident was punished by being thrown through another window. He suffered numerous cuts and bruises as a result and had to be taken to the hospital as well. A woman who was dragging her son across a street had the snot beaten out of her. Blossom had gotten the story from the son, not the mother. The mother was still unconscious with blood pooling beneath her head on the concrete when paramedics were attending to them.

All these minor incidents, little more than vigilante justice, were perpetrated by Bubbles while she was flying from one operation to another. The criminals who happened to be found during the operations had suffered worse. None of them survived their encounter with the out-of-control Bubbles, and all of them had to be scraped off the floor, wall, ceiling or furniture after she was done with them. The only good news – and miracle – was that no other innocent lives were lost.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenement Area. Long's Apartment.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1318.**

It had been hours and five operations, and Blossom and Buttercup were still unable to catch up with Bubbles. The trail of injured civilians and mutilated criminals, torn apart as if by animals or heavy industrial machinery, was becoming bloodier every step of the way.

A flight control officer had put it down to misfortune, as they had to select real crimes-in-progress to act as bait for Bubbles, most of which wouldn't happen anywhere close to each other.

The next one, however, was therefore fortuitous. A major case of arson which resulted in a burning apartment building, and it was just a few minute's flight from where Blossom and Buttercup was. Still, they sped towards the burning building as fast as they could, afraid that they might miss Bubbles again - which would be a waste as they hadn't had such an advantage the entire day.

While they were on the way, someone else's voice came through the radio.

"This is Agent Blake to Blossom. I'm speaking on a private one-to-one channel. Do you copy? Over," Blake said, his voice almost a whisper, discreet, as if afraid that someone else would hear.

"Mister Blake, I'm here. What's going on?" Blossom replied, immediately sensing that something wasn't quite right - besides the fact that what was supposed to be her sweetest timid sister had gone ballistic on practically everyone.

"Detective Mullens and Olivia contacted me just this morning. There's a reason why Bubbles has been acting this way, and it's more serious than I thought," Agent Blake said, and Blossom found it odd that he wouldn't reveal the specifics. Her thought process was simpler though: Why all the mystery? "We need you to bring her to a secure location for neutralization and extraction. Somewhere she wouldn't suspect a thing. How about the roof of the Townsville Mall in Downtown?"

"Wait, Mister Blake - isn't Bubbles acting this way because of her powers?" Blossom asked - while she had suspected something else, she had no idea about the cause. By now, Buttercup had caught on to the fact that Blossom was talking to someone special, and not some random flight control officer.

"No. It's… I will discuss it with you once we have Bubbles," Blake said over the radio. "For now, I just need you to get Bubbles to the Townsville Mall. Can you do that?"

"Yes…" Blossom said.

"Is Buttercup with you? I have reports from my friends in the towers that she is," Blake on the radio said.

"Yes. She's getting her powers back," Blossom said. "But she's weak…"

"Hey!" Buttercup exclaimed behind her.

"Good. We'll need all the help we can get," Blake said. "I'll figure something out for her. Carry out the plan, over and out."

Shortly after, Blossom and Buttercup had reached Long's Apartment. The building, which was about ten floors high, was ablaze. The fire had reached the upper floors. The fire department had arrived with several fire engines, and firefighters were dragging hoses out of their trucks, spraying water at the lower floors to put the raging fire there out. Ambulances were rushing into the scene. Crowds of bystanders stood far behind, some watching with shock, others with morbid interest. Some were crying. Some looked like they were evacuated from the building as they were poorly dressed for the winter and looked roughened up by the emergency. The police had formed cordons to hold them back.

Before Blossom and Buttercup could land, Bubbles had streaked towards them, giving them a dirty look when she hovered up close. An explosion in Long's Apartment distracted the three of them, and they turned to look at the scene. It wasn't the first time they had seen a fire going out of control. All three of them descended down next to the firefighter giving the orders on the ground. An older man with a bushy, gray mustache.

"It's the Powerpuff Girls!" the fire chief's aide exclaimed. The both of them looked up as the city's most celebrated little girls came down next to them.

"Powerpuff Girls?" Bubbles spat - perhaps not all was lost since she still had the capacity for curiosity.

"It's our new team name, Bubbles," Blossom said, hoping that it would distract Bubbles somewhat from the crazy inside her that Blake had refused to explain. "It's nice, don't you think?" She was ignored, of course.

"How can we help, Mister Fireman?" Blossom offered as she was hovering at the chest level of the fire chief. The firefighters around him were still unable to believe what they were seeing - most had never seen them in person, and only knew about them from the television or news.

"Get back to work!" the fire chief screamed at his men, waving a hand at them. His men skittered away, returning to their job on hand. Then, turning to Blossom and her sisters, he continued: "There are still some people trapped on the tenth floor - you can see some of them at the window. We estimated fifteen of them, even up to twenty, and some of them might still be deep inside the apartment - trapped or fainted from the smoke."

Several men and women had broken through the police cordon to see the Powerpuff Girls, despite the officers' best efforts.

"Please, my husband and baby boy are still inside! Please, help them!" one of the women screamed, followed by the others.

Fifteen people were in danger. Maybe even up to twenty. Blossom felt that it was impossible - they would have to save up to twenty people between her sisters and her, and one of them was still weak and the other was out of control and even antagonistic.

"This is Flight Control Five, you are cleared to render humanitarian aid, but keep in mind our primary objective: secure Bubbles. Do your best, over," the Girls' radio crackled and the flight control officer in the area said. Blossom turned to her sisters immediately. She knew from the raging fire and explosions and screaming that time was running out.

"Buttercup, I need you to carry the people at the window down to the ground," Blossom said to her recovering tomboy sister, then turned to Bubbles - who wasn't there anymore. Alarmingly, she was already flying at full speed towards the building, her corrupted baby blue streak forming a line that bystanders wowed at; they had no idea what was really going on. "BUBBLES! Stop!"

But it was too late. Smashing through the brick wall of the burning building, Bubbles began her 'rescue work' solo.

"Buttercup, let's go!" Blossom ordered, and together with her remaining sister, began flying up to the higher floors of the apartment building, taking people and lowering them down to the ground four in total at a time. There were only six men, women, and children at the window. Ascending back up to the top floor, they flew through the windows and dived back into the inferno. There were more explosions inside, but they didn't sound like they were caused by fire.

Bubbles. It must be her. Blossom could only hope that she was rescuing people and not… something else.

"Let's split up and save anyone we can!" Blossom ordered. She grabbed Buttercup by the shoulder before she dashed off. "And if you find Bubbles, stay with her."

The fire was spreading quickly. The Girls worked even faster, breaking through doors and flying through apartments for a quick pass. The tenth floor was empty, and it made sense, as those hoping to be rescued were banking it on being reached by ladders.

On the ninth floor, Buttercup found a babysitter and her charge, unconscious from inhalation on the floor. Before she could reach them, a wall came down on her and she screamed. Blossom could barely hear it, but she did. Rushing to her, through fire licking the walls and reaching even the ceiling, she lifted the entire section of concrete, plaster, and rebar off of her. Buttercup was covered with fire such that Blossom had to help tear off her flaming gear and uniform while Buttercup was howling in pain.

Bubbles was still somewhere in the building, along with more citizens in need.

"Buttercup, take them and go! I'll find Bubbles!" Blossom ordered, and Buttercup was inclined to listen, but only because she didn't want to linger in the uncomfortably hot burning building any longer, nor risk getting fire on her once more – while the Girls were immune to burning or heat injuries of any kind, it was still a painful, uncomfortable ordeal.

Heaving one of the survivors, an eight-year-old girl, on her back and picking up the babysitter, Buttercup flew off, leaving Blossom alone with the aggressively roaring fires all around her.

The explosions were still happening one after another in the building, sequentially. Blossom could tell that there was an intelligence behind it – albeit a dangerously compromised and damaged intelligence. Taking in a deep breath of burning, smoky air, Blossom started hovering towards it.

It was like being in the belly of a dragon. Blossom had read about them in fairy tales. And the explosions were like the beating of its heart, and as she flew towards it, sometimes breaking through fragile doors and walls, it got louder, until finally…

"Bubbles!" Blossom called out to her sister just after she had broken through another wall. Bubbles didn't speak – her new self didn't like to speak, it seemed. Instead, she glared at her. "What are you doing!?"

"Bubbles?" Blossom repeated herself. Bubbles, however, didn't change her tune. Curling up her hands into fists, her knuckles sung their bony threats. Blossom had forgotten how to breathe then.

"Someone help! Please!" the voice of a boy, not even seven, resounded in the building, loud enough for them to hear. Both Blossom and Bubbles turned to it. Whoever the voice belonged to was clearly distressed, afraid. Come to think of it, it sounded like part of the roaring of the flame, except it'd been the boy all along. Blossom caught a glimpse of Bubbles' eyes - it'd turned blue again, and without another word, Bubbles dashed towards the boy and Blossom followed.

The sight of Bubbles recovering from her BerXerker fury had filled her with hope. Could Blake be wrong?

Blossom could barely catch up with Bubbles - in her fervor, she was fast. Within seconds, they came by two shapes in the fire - and they had to jump through a pond of licking yellow, orange and red to get to them.

The sight was ghastly. The ceiling had come down on two persons - a man and a boy. The man's lower half was crushed by the ceiling. The boy's leg was trapped beneath. The man was completely charred beyond recognition. The boy was getting there, with his burned T-shirt stuck to his skin, half his face either charcoal black or gory red, much of his body too. He had barely any hair left.

Bubbles took the boy by both his arms as he cried in both pain and relief. Blossom pulled the piece of ceiling off of the boy's leg, instantly freeing him. His leg was a mangled mess - pale, ashen-white bones poking out in multiple places, out of charred flesh, bent like a fossilized tree branch.

Cradling the boy, Bubbles began running, herself burning - though the fire wasn't hurting her, just causing her some pain. Blossom followed, and overtook her, clearing rubble that happened to be in the way, making their path easier for Bubbles to get through. The boy coughed and vomited on the way. Sensing the urgency to get the boy to safety and some help, Blossom began blasting holes through walls with both fists and heat beams, making an expressway through wall after wall until…

They were able to jump out of the building and fly their way down to the ground, where firefighters, paramedics, bystanders, Buttercup and the people she rescued waited. The firefighters were quick to put them out with fire extinguishers. While Blossom's uniform and gear had remained largely intact, Bubbles' was another story, as they were no longer recognizable. Flakes were falling off her.

"P-p-power…puff…" the boy in Bubbles' arms muttered as she set him down on an ambulance gurney wheeled in quickly by a pair of paramedics. "Always… wanted to… see…" Numerous eyes were on him, and everyone knew that those were his last words when his one good eye closed and never opened again. The mother ran up to the charred boy, hugging him.

Bubbles' eyes were stuck on the dead boy. Blossom stared at her, her eyes misting up, worried too if this tragedy was going to set her off anew.

The mother's eyes soon turned to Bubbles, full of raw emotions.

"My son's dead! You put others ahead of him!" the woman screeched, completely out of her mind. "He's just a boy! A BOY! You KILLED him!"

"I- I tried to save him but he was in the fire and…" Bubbles explained incoherently as she floated closer to the woman, hoping for some kind of understanding. "He was all burned up-"

The woman gave her the hardest slap she could manage. "And now I don't even have a proper body to cry over because of you!"

"You're useless! Useless, useless, USELESS!" she screeched, and she had gone on screaming even as Bubbles' eyes were tearing up, a hand shielding a cheek as if she had been struck by a sniper bullet there.

_Useless, useless, USELESS!_

The words didn't just sting deep, penetrating into her very soul, tearing her nerves into a million different strands. They were like Duranium piranhas, eating away at her rapidly, destroying her, annihilating what little clarity she had left, what little sanity she could retain after taking so many syringes of 'His Secret 2.0'.

'You're useless, Bubbles! Useless, useless, USELESS!' Blossom had screamed at her once, even before the battle at the Silver Age Cinema started. 'Dad told me to forgive you! But you're USELESS!'

Just being reminded of it made Bubbles furious to the point of insanity. Her eyes glowed red anew. Without thinking or even hesitating, she pulled her sidearm out and fired at the woman with gritted, grating teeth. The grieving mother had only time to make a dear-in-the-headlights kind of face - and had Blossom not seen this and wrestled for the gun, she would have shot the woman cleanly through the forehead.

"Bubbles, no!" Blossom screamed as she managed to wrest the pistol from Bubbles' hand and kick her down to the ground. The firearms discharge had sent bystanders scurrying and hollering for help. Police officers at the cordon had drawn their guns and pointed them at the Powerpuff Girls.

"Bubbles, calm down," Blossom tried to reason with her sister. Bubbles flipped herself up to a standing position, looking like she was about to flip out again. Police officers, in the meantime, surrounded them. "Listen to me."

Surprisingly, Bubbles turned to look at Blossom despite looking like she was ready to kill every normal human being around the burning building.

"We can't do this here - just follow me, okay? I know a place where the police won't catch us," Blossom suggested. Bubbles merely glared - having been reminded of Blossom's harsh words in the past, she was at least thinking twice about listening to her again at all. All Blossom knew was that she had a plan - one that would save lives, and put Bubbles where Mister Blake wanted her.

With that, Blossom reached out for Bubbles' hand, and Bubbles let her take it, mainly because there was nothing for her left around the burning building. Together, they blasted off into the sky, flying away from the burning building, with not a single shot fired by the police as they were surprised. Buttercup followed behind them, a towel wrapped around her as much of her uniform was burned off.

After putting enough distance between them and the cops - with enough distance judged by the lack of noise coming from the site of the burning building, Blossom stopped, and the moment she did, Bubbles shrugged her hand off and folded her arms, her eyes still dangerously red. Buttercup was shivering from the cold, with only a towel and a pair of pants and boots that could barely stay on for warmth.

"Buttercup, you look terrible. Go back home and get changed," Blossom ordered her roughest sister first. "You need a rest."

"Gladly - it's cold…" Buttercup agreed and zipped off - though she was slow enough that it took some time for her to get out of earshot - at least in Blossom's view.

"We need to talk," she reached for Bubbles' hand again, only for her to slap it away.

"It's fine if you don't want to hold my hand," Blossom said, but her intention was elsewhere - on the execution of her plan, for instance. "But we can't talk here. We need to keep moving before they catch up with us."


	54. Chapter 48: No Going Back (Part 3)

Reply to Guest: Thanks for the feedback. I'll think about it. However, it just doesn't look good for M-rated stories. FFN openly discriminates against them, and FFN has stopped updating itself and its policies since many years ago. If it were to follow Archive of Our Own's example, I'd have switched in a heartbeat. As it stands, it's even affecting how I rate this story on AO3, since I value consistency. There are more reasons besides this - personal reasons, philosophical reasons, etc. I hope you understand. And thanks for reading.

* * *

**Chapter 48: No Going Back (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Sky. Towards Downtown.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1346.**

"Good, you're heading in the right direction," Blake's voice whispered cautiously into Blossom's ear via her earpiece and radio as the enhanced little girl was leading Bubbles towards the Townsville Mall. "Keep going and keep her talking. I'll be there."

"Why won't you talk to me, Bubbles?" Blossom continued trying to get Bubbles to open up. They were halfway on their flight to the mall, but Bubbles had been keeping mum ever since the burning apartment building.

"You said we'll talk when we're far away from that place," Bubbles said curtly. "We're not there yet."

Her eyes were a permanent glow of angry red. Blossom could only guess at what she was thinking, but Judging by her eyes, it was likely nothing good. She knew that the mother of the boy she tried to save had struck a nerve, said some things, and Blossom had some idea why those things would set her off. The woman sounded exactly like her, back when she hadn't learned her lesson of patience and anger management yet.

But that wouldn't be fair to that lady, as Bubbles was already upset long before the burning building. It was the whole reason why she had been tracking her down in the first place. What was Bubbles so upset about? Didn't they make nice to each other? Especially after their vicious fight in The Strip?

They flew for some time, rising closer to the clouds so that the noise from the city was drowned out.

"Where are you taking me?" Bubbles asked when the silence wasn't palatable even to her.

"To someplace we could talk, where they'll never find us," Blossom lied. "The policemen were mad at us, and we need to let them cool off." The mall came within view shortly after. It was a huge mecca of commerce, and even from the top, looked much larger than any other building for miles. There were other malls, of course, but they were like children next to the Townsville Mall, imitations that paled in comparison to the original.

Blossom led Bubbles on the descend, down to just yards above the tallest buildings at Downtown. For a moment, Blossom stopped beside a billboard, and Bubbles aped her action despite her waning respect for her authority.

The billboard had a gigantic version of her, photogenic and posing in her combat gear, winking with one hand holding her MP5 singled-handed and the other hand pointing to an advisory: Jail Time or No Crime - You Decide. 'The Powerpuff Girls are here to save the day!' A not-so-subtle subtitle read under the art.

Blossom couldn't remember ever posing for that shot. Back in January, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had attended a few photoshoots for a few newspaper articles and public service announcement arts, but not in recent weeks, and certainly not for her likeness to be mounted on billboards on top of tall buildings overlooking the middle of Downtown.

However, it wasn't the time and place to mull over such an unimportant thing; Her sister took precedence. Resuming her course, Blossom took Bubbles to the roof of Townsville Mall, which, unlike the rest of it, was gray and austere and uninteresting. They touched down there, and Bubbles sat down on a vent. It was freezing, but she didn't care. Her insides were tortured and groaning and calling for the fairy godmother's magic, and a little freezing was nothing next to it.

Blossom retracted her glider wings and sat down on a vent opposite Bubbles but close to her. When she found it cold, she set down her flight pack and placed her jacket over it before sitting down again.

"Keep her there for a few minutes, Blossom," Blake's voice whispered to Blossom on her earpiece, like an angel offering a divine way out. "Good job. We'll be with you shortly, over and out."

Blossom's eyes returned to Bubbles when she heard it. 'Good job,' Blake had said, but Blossom couldn't tell what she was doing so well. She was going against her own judgment again, her own morals; Lying and plotting against her own sister when she would rather just try to reason with her.

"The winter's getting hotter, isn't it?" Blossom commented as she turned to look at the sky, Blake's order to stall for time with Bubbles half-forgotten. She had her own reasons for bringing Bubbles to the mall. "Dad said that spring will be here next month."

"It's not any different," Bubbles said absent-mindedly. "Nothing is. Nothing changed."

"But everything's changed. We're getting better at fighting crime. We've been helping more people and…" Blossom's voice trailed off. Not everything had changed for the better. Bubbles' eyes turned to her, wide and all-seeing. It made Blossom think she had said something wrong or done something wrong – besides the sins she had committed against her in the past.

"We've changed, Blossom. We used to be so close," Bubbles said.

"But we still are," Blossom said, and yet she was afraid; of the way Bubbles was looking at her, of her in general. "We can still be…"

"Buttercup hasn't changed. Mom hasn't. Townsville hasn't changed. Spring isn't coming," Bubbles said, her eyes drifting to the snowy concrete beneath her.

"But it will – things always change, that's what Dad said," Blossom corrected.

"DAD!" Bubbles screamed out of the blue, jumping off her vent-seat. Blossom had nearly fallen off hers. Alarmed, she got off it as well.

"Daddy this, Daddy that!" Bubbles screamed maniacally as she stepped closer to Blossom.

"B-bubbles, what did I-" Blossom stuttered, afraid that yesterday was going to repeat itself again.

"DAD DOES NOT KNOW!" Bubbles screamed. "He's supposed to know but he doesn't! He's supposed to know things!"

"What are you talking about?" Blossom asked, confused and scared out of her mind. Things were calm and going well before.

"I'm TALKING about ME!" Bubbles hollered madly. Her eyes had never gone back to blue ever since they were in the air. It was beginning to concern Blossom, more so than usual. It had always been a sign that things would soon spin out of control. "And… and…"

"What, Bubbles?" Blossom asked, but it was as if something was stuck in Bubbles' throat. "You can tell me – is it something to do with your new power?"

"I've changed - I've changed and I wanted it – But I… I've changed but I don't want it!" Bubbles blubbered as she began crying, the only sign of it was the tears as her eyes were already bloodshot.

"Bubbles, what is it?" Blossom asked again. Concerned and afraid for her sister, she came closer to try to hug her, but Bubbles backed away as if avoiding a plague victim.

"NO!" she screamed, afraid, but the look on her face soon changed to that of rage.

"Don't touch me! Don't you touch me!" she screamed maniacally as she wrapped her arms around herself for futile reassurance, looking a little like a mental patient.

"I wasn't going to hurt you," Blossom tried to reassure her sister.

"I can't tell you anything," Bubbles said, relatively calm, though that wasn't saying much, nor did it have anything to do with Blossom's efforts to quiet her down. "I can't tell you anything. I don't trust you."

But Bubbles' words were sharp, and it stabbed at Blossom right at the heart. Blossom gasped when she heard it, her hand going up to her chest as if she had been punched there.

"You don't mean that!" Blossom gasped. It wasn't something she had expected from her sweet little Bubbles at all.

"You DID all those things to ME!" Bubbles resumed her mad ravings. "Buttercup DID all those THINGS to me!"

"I know! We fought in the backyard and I made her stop!" Blossom defended herself, but it was a feeble attempt and they both knew it. Her eyes were beginning to mist - if only all this would just stop! "I tried to make it stop!"

"And you started DOING it to ME!" Bubbles screamed. "Hurting ME!"

"Bubbles… I'm not lying when I told you how sorry I am," Blossom said tearfully. "Remember when we were in the lab after the cinema? Please, try to remember!"

Bubbles closed her eyes; she thought Blossom's words meant something this time. She tried to remember through the red haze of blind rage and madness in her. She thought she saw something. Her own apologies, how things looked right then. Blossom hadn't laid a finger on her since. Remembering their time together since she saw that Blossom hadn't gone back on her words – and it was all her fault yesterday that they fought.

Bubbles opened her eyes tearfully, which were, for once, her signature baby blue.

"Bubbles – what's happening to you?" Blossom asked again. It couldn't just be her BerXerker ability causing her to lose her mind, could it?

"I had to get away," Bubbles finally opened up. "I… I didn't want to be anywhere close to you and Dad. I didn't want to be - I can't. I can't be close."

"Why?" Blossom asked. Bubbles averted her gaze and didn't speak any further. Blossom tried prodding her for answers more, but she had clamped up.

That was when the familiar sound of loud beating in the air began. A huge helicopter ascended into view from behind a building and sped towards them at top speed nearly equivalent to what the Girls could do, admirable for something achieved by regular human beings.

Bubbles glared at it, her eyes glowing hellish red anew. She then turned that murderous gaze on Blossom.

"You DID this!" Bubbles screeched at her. "You TRICKED me!"

"Bubbles, wait-" Blossom tried to explain things, but Bubbles wouldn't have it.

"You were always the smart one and you TRICKED me!" Bubbles screamed, then clasped her head with both her hands. "You LIED to ME! I TRUSTED you!"

The helicopter spun around in mid-air hazardously such that the tailgate was facing them. The wind from its rotors would have blown the Girls away had they not countered it with their hovering force. The tailgate opened, revealing a squad of men, two of whom were armed with what appeared to be net guns. Lieutenant Blake was one of them. They fired the nets at Bubbles without hesitation.

One of them missed because of the wind and Bubbles had sidestepped it easily. The other was well-adjusted for both wind and evasion, catching Bubbles by surprise, who fell with a yelp. Bubbles tore at the net, which seemed surprisingly strong for something that looked flimsy. The 'ropes' were actually steel cables forming a flexible wire mesh.

"Blossom, restrain her!" Blake ordered over the radio. Blossom rushed up to Bubbles, only to receive a hard kick in the stomach. Despite the tensile strength of the steel cables, Bubbles was able to rip it apart, freeing herself. After shooting Blossom and Blake a half-insane dirty look, she flew off.

"Blossom! Pursue her! We can't let her get away!" Blake's voice blared on the radio. Blossom did not wait – she knew what she had to do. There was something severely wrong with her – Bubbles wouldn't have tried to avoid Dad and her in any other circumstances.

Bubbles was fast – in her insanity, she had given no thought to conserving her Chemical X at all, and was traveling at top speed. In fact, it seemed that her newest power had completely beaten exhaustion into submission as Blossom was struggling to keep up at such a speed.

"Bubbles, stop!" Blossom yelled at her as she tried to gain on her, but it was all in vain. The shape of her sister was growing smaller with every second elapsed. What was worse was that she had left her flight pack behind in a hurry, which meant that the wind was constantly throwing her off left and right easily.

Blossom tried to think of a solution: her guns could help, but she didn't want to hurt her own sister and lose whatever remained of the trust between them. The same went for her heat vision. Besides, in her current state, she wasn't even sure if she was capable of feeling pain. Her smoke grenade could block Bubbles view and slow her down – if only it could hover. Her flashbangs – yes, her flashbangs!

Taking a flashbang from her vest, Blossom removed the pin and primed it. After taking careful aim, she lobbed it as hard as she could, and was decently surprised that she could throw it ahead of Bubbles. She covered her eyes quickly, but the light blast had partially blinded her all the same.

But it was working. Bubbles screamed madly as she spun out of control and fell, landing on top of an apartment building, putting cracks in the rooftop floor. Blossom, also disorientated, let herself drop, and landed on the same apartment roof in a crouched position.

"We're not going to hurt you," Blossom tried to reason with her sister. Taking a quick look over her shoulder, she saw that Blake's Chinook was a mere dot on the horizon; she was on her own now. "We just want to help you!"

Bubbles was just sitting up when she said this, cupping her eyes as though they were burning, screaming intermittently like a rabid dog.

"Liar! LIAR! LIAR!" Bubbles screamed. "She said you're evil!"

Her response forced Blossom to rush her, but before she could even grab her, Bubbles swiped at her with fingernails – which Blossom blocked with her Kevlar arm guard. Bubbles' nails were hard enough to carve deep fissures into her arm guard.

Blossom tackled Bubbles before she could do any real damage, before pinning her arms on her chest. Bubbles struggled against her as she screamed like a wild animal to be let go.

"Who said that? Who said I'm evil?" Blossom asked; the plot was thickening, and she wasn't sure where the end of it was or what she would find at the end of it.

"Let ME go!" Bubbles screamed and threw Blossom off with sheer willpower and strength. She took off immediately. Blossom air-braked herself and flew at full speed to give chase.

"This is Blake to Blossom, where is Bubbles going!?" Blake asked over the radio.

"I don't know!" Blossom shouted over the radio while she strained herself once more to match an errant Bubbles' flight speed.

"Take a guess! You're smarter than you know!" Blake said urgently over the radio.

Blossom thought hard about it. Bubbles did mention something about getting away from her and Dad. Why? Why her and Dad? She tried to kill her yesterday… Which meant-

"Oh no…" Blossom's face had gone pale when she realized what Bubbles was going to do. She pressed the button on her radio and practically screamed into his ears. "She's going home to kill Dad!"

It made perfect sense. The flight path they were on would take them straight home in a beeline. She'd memorized the local map and could see it as though it was a 3D projection before her when it was all in her head.

But why? Why? Blossom still had no idea why Bubbles would want to kill Dad of all people – if it was her, it would have made sense. She had failed as a leader and sister when she had counted on her. But Dad? Why?

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1402.**

Professor Utonium had been busy poring over the final results of his Chemical X2 plant trials. He had pages upon pages of data to go through, and he wasn't the only one generating them. His science staff, under Doctor Vanum who still reports to him even though he no longer outranked him, was involved as well. It'd accelerated his progress towards providing his Girls with reinforcement that they sorely needed – reinforcement which would exceed their capabilities, and hopefully, take over so completely that the Girls would have to beg for a chance to fight crime.

Bzz! Bzz! Bzz! A phone rang in the vicinity. Just what he needed; more bad news. But this time, there was something different. It wasn't his desk phone ringing. It was his USDO cellphone.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he flipped the phone open and checked the caller ID. Agent Blake was on the line. After giving a frustrated sigh, he accepted the call.

"Blake. What is it now?" the professor said, the tone of his voice betraying every bit of how he was feeling: defeated, ever more dreary and afraid of the unexpected. It made him wonder if he should just jump the gun and use his Chemical X2 to create the reinforcement there and then, instead of going through the usual scientific method.

"Professor! There's no time to explain!" Blake was shouting at the top of his lungs, and the background noise, which was filled with the beating of helicopter rotor blades and men yelling. "She's coming to assassinate you! I don't know why! But she is!"

"Who?" the professor asked. He knew that sooner or later that someone might want to take this life; he was an important person – contributing greatly to the USDO'S technological output and more recently, as the scientist in charge of the Girls. "Is it Naga? Or those Confederates in the Foundation? Is it Blisstina? Isn't Blisstina deceased?" there was no one else he could think of. With Blisstina, the evidence of her death wasn't complete enough to substantiate it.

"It's Bubbles! We have a Tantrum event! She's coming! I've signaled security at The House!" Blake revealed. It'd caught the professor off-guard. Bubbles? Why would she? "Stay in your lab! ETA 10 minutes! We'll sort this out!"

It couldn't be. It simply couldn't be. Just yesterday, she seemed fine…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**18 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 0334.**

Bubbles could not sleep with the thought of killing her Daddy in her head. Needless to say, she hated the idea. But it had to be done. It must be done. If she didn't, she would be in pain for the rest of her life, and the fairy godmother would add more on top of that, and there was no telling what she would do to the rest of her family. She would never experience true happiness, the kind that only the drug could provide.

Was there any real reason to kill Dad? She searched through her memories for one. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard to do so, especially when she was motivated by pain and drug deprivation to.

Dad had never been there when she needed him most. Day after day, one after another, those she would call family would hurt her right under his nose. Day after day, she would be sent out to fight even when she didn't want to - even when she couldn't. Day after day, she suffered, and Daddy didn't stop it.

It scared her. Bubbles felt anger and hatred welling up inside. She couldn't believe that she could be angry towards a man who had done nothing but took care of her, hateful towards a man who had only loved her, who was just as much a victim as she was. But now, she hated him enough to want to kill him.

Slipping out of bed once more, Bubbles flew to the door and left the Girls' room, more cautious than ever. She checked her sisters' twice, thrice - and knew that they were asleep this time. Buttercup had been sedated during her medical examinations, and the speckles of green that remained in her eyes did not shine. Blossom was dark too.

Bubbles flew to her Dad's door. It was decided. She wanted to kill him, and she wanted to just get it over with. But how? She wasn't a mastermind, but she knew enough to know that Dad had to die in a way that wouldn't implicate her. She flew to the living room, searching for something to aid her in her patricidal quest, and when there was nothing she could use in the living room, she moved on to the kitchen. She had killed enough to know her own modus operandi - she had killed with fists, guns and even her sonic scream. She couldn't use any of those.

Her eyes ran over the kitchen, and on a counter, she saw a block of kitchen knives. Landing on the kitchen counter, she pulled one out to discover that she had taken a cleaver. She didn't like the idea of having to take off Daddy's head, so she put it back and chose a slimmer one. A chopping knife for cutting vegetables and fruits. A single stab through the neck would do.

Gripping the knife underhanded, she flew back up to the second floor and landed in front of her Dad's door. Hovering up, she gripped the doorknob with her other hand.

She couldn't help but hesitate. The door was locked only by love. Yet she could feel the beginnings of the drug's withdrawal effect in her. She sighed and remembered how Dad had raised her right from the beginning - if it weren't for him, she wouldn't even have known how to walk, talk or even use the toilet without making a mess. She remembered all the times they spent together - how much time her Dad had invested in her, so lovingly, so unconditionally.

She had to push it all away, and, with great effort, replace it with hate. Dad was weak. Dad was stupid. He was careless and he didn't help her in her times of need when it truly mattered!

Twisting the doorknob, she swung the door gently, wide enough for her to hover through. Dad and Mom were fast asleep, or at least it looked like it. Mom, at least, was snoring with a gentle and quiet rise and fall of her breathing. Bubbles touched down on the carpet, and couldn't help but hold her breath.

Holding the kitchen knife before her, she padded towards Dad, barefooted and in her pajamas, looking nothing like a killer, at least until her eyes turned red with sustained hatred. Her hands shook as she got closer, just another arm's length to within striking range.

Then she saw movement before she was ready. She quickly hid the blade behind her back. Dad had turned and opened his eyes. Despite her red eyes, he didn't so much as a gasp. Reaching out for his lamp, he turned it on, and saw Bubbles close to him, holding her hands behind her back.

"Bubbles? What's wrong, honey?" he asked in that tired voice of his, barely awake. He yawned after that. "Were you having a nightmare again?"

What Daddy had said had reminded her of that time back then, two weeks ago, when nightmares of that day in the Morbucks Industries Research Labs, when she was stuck in a hole, had plagued her relentlessly. Dad was there to comfort her. He was there in her time of need when it truly mattered.

And he was here now.

"Y-yes… A really bad one," Bubbles found herself replying, tears streaming down anew. If only it was all just a nightmare - the fairy godmother, the drugs, her lethal intentions, everything.

"Hop on, then," Dad pushed himself deeper into his bed and patted the space he had made for her, beside him. His eyes were closed once again. He was likely very tired. Helpless.

Bubbles wasted no time in slipping the kitchen knife under her father's bed and clambering into it, snuggling up to him. The Dad covered her up with a blanket and put an arm around her. He remembered, too, to leave the lights be.

Bubbles couldn't help but whimper and cry.

"Hey… Everything's fine. It's just a nightmare, it'll all go away…" Dad said, without knowing how wrong he was - that it wasn't a nightmare, and it wouldn't go away just like that. Bubbles turned and planted her face into his shoulder.

"Promise?" Bubbles asked, wishing desperately for it all to just end.

"Promise," Dad said and gave her a peck on the back of her head.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1404.**

Yes, Bubbles was fine yesterday, being her sweet old self despite the difficulties she was having with her new BerXerker power. Except… He thought back to that night when Bubbles came up to him. He thought he saw a glint then, like a reflection. A knife? How could that be? If his good memory served, he thought he heard something sliding on the carpet before Bubbles joined him in bed.

He had to know. He needed to. Getting up, Professor Utonium started racing up the stairs to the surface. While the airlock cycled, he banged on the keypad as if it would cycle the airlock faster - it wouldn't. He had never acted this way before. He ran across the living room, where Selicia was. As it just so happened, she was on her USDO cellphone as well.

"Thomas! Wait!" she shouted as he was running past. He didn't stop, didn't wait. He had to know. Running up the stairs, two steps at a time, he proceeded straight to his room and looked under the bed.

Sure enough, it was there. A kitchen knife, right under his bed. Picking it up, he sat down on his bed and felt like he would be stuck there until the heat death of the universe. Holding it up, he saw his reflection on it.

Bubbles intended to kill him last night.

There were heavy footsteps outside. Someone running. The professor knew it was Selicia, but the knife before him and what it meant was too upsetting for him to care.

"Thomas! Bubbles' gone rogue!" Selicia warned the professor, the phone still clutched in her hand, but stopped when she saw what was going on.

"T-tom? What are you doing?" she asked, fearing what could happen next. She had no idea about what the professor had learned. It looked as if he was about to take his own life. He didn't reply immediately, and it made her terribly worried. Normally, she was able to capture his attention, enthrall him. Now, something else had taken the lead. "What are you doing with that knife?"

"It's Bubbles' knife. She left it here. She wanted to kill me last night," the professor said, face pale, looking shell-shocked. What Bubbles had done, however, was far more damaging than any shell could be to the professor.

Everything had snapped into place for Selicia the moment he mentioned it. No wonder something felt missing in the kitchen this morning! She was whipping together breakfast for the Girls, and although she didn't need the knife, she thought something looked off with the kitchen when she entered it.

Buttercup poked her head in from the outside, wondering what all the excitement was about.

"I know you feel like roadkill right now, but we need to keep you safe!" Selicia reasoned. Coming up to the professor, she tried to lift him off the bed, only for him to shake her off.

"No, Selicia! What's the point? Bubbles wanted to kill me last night," the professor went on. He was barely there. Likely heartbroken. Disappointed. Upset. Perhaps even suicidal.

"You still have Blossom and Buttercup to look out for!" Selicia tried to reason with him again. Taking the knife by the handle, she put it away before dragging him to his feet. "You still have me."

Silence. Then the professor cranked his head to look at her wearily, with almost nothing in his eyes.

"Yes… Yes… You're right," the professor said, though he sounded half-dead.

"Now please," Selicia pleaded with him as she held his face. "Lock yourself in the lab. There's a safe in there with a Duranium rifle, behind the painting near your desk. The combination's your birthday. Take it, just in case."

Wordlessly, the professor started towards the door, his movement stiff as he had lost much of his will to do anything. Selicia turned to look at him leave and saw Buttercup standing by the door. The professor stopped beside her, before ruffling her hair as he rubbed her scalp affectionately.

"Buttercup, Blake suggested that you help defend your Dad," the Mom said, less loving to her favorite as usual. "Do you want to?"

Buttercup had to actually think hard about it. There simply wasn't much left to defend. She had lost all hope of ever becoming her Dad's most loved. There was simply no going back from his discovery of her trophies and shadowy activities. Even Mom seemed to be giving her the cold shoulder.

"Yes…" Buttercup said, slightly unsure of herself. The only reason why she would even agree to it was that Dad was still her provider. Who else was she going to turn to for pancakes, toys, clothes and a gazillion other things? Or even that rub in the head he gave her as he was shuffling towards his lab? For what it was worth, it felt pleasant when he stroked her in the head.

"Then get suited up and wait for me outside the lab door," Selicia ordered. Buttercup zipped to her room to get prepared for battle while Selicia did the same, throwing on a Kevlar vest and pulling out an XM9 anti-materials rifle and XM4 carbine.


	55. Chapter 49: No Going Back (Part 4)

**Chapter 49: No Going Back (Part 4)**

**The City of Townsville. Sky. Towards The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1405.**

When Blossom was out of options and ideas, she decided to reuse her previous tactic. Unclipping another flashbang, she unpinned it and primed the thing, all while she was flying at top speed in pursuit of Bubbles. Hurling it in front of her, she covered her face just before the flashbang detonated.

There was an explosion of light and noise, and Blossom's ears sang while her vision swam in whiteness despite her precautions.

Bubbles was prepared this time, as it wasn't the first time Blossom had used a flashbang on her. Like Blossom, she'd hid her face from the blast, but since she was so close to it, she was still completely blinded and deafened by the blast.

With the strong wind and her senses blown, Bubbles couldn't control her flight as well. She descended, and accidentally smashed through the window of an office building, screaming as she went through a wall and rolled on the ground, scattering paper and workaholics working the weekends.

Blossom couldn't help but feel concerned about Bubbles, but she knew she couldn't stop to check on her. Flying ahead, she continued on her way to The House, feeling relieved that she had taken the lead.

But then there were explosions and screams. Blossom had flown a fair distance away when that happened, yet she was still able to hear it. Behind her, Bubbles had shoved herself through a window on the opposite side of the building she crashed into, breaking the glass and launching herself back into the race.

Looking back, Blossom saw that Bubbles was easily on the verge of overtaking her – in a matter of seconds, she would be within an arm's reach, and she didn't even want to think about what Bubbles would do to her once she was. Unslinging her MP5, Blossom pointed it behind her one-handed and started firing wild shots at her sister. Her flight path became unsteady from the multi-tasking. Bubbles veered left and right to try to avoid Blossom's aim, but she was too accurate. Blossom was able to buy distance and time with bullets - but for how long, she didn't know. All she knew was that she had to get to Dad before Bubbles.

"Blossom! Come in, Blossom," Blake said over the radio while Blossom was busy firing on Bubbles and getting home at the same time. He didn't wait for her to reply. "I've informed your family and as many people as I could! You'll have help!"

"What about Bubbles?" Blossom replied as she fired another burst of bullets at her sister. "I don't want her to get hurt!"

Like last time… Blossom thought.

"We'll think of something, over and out," Blake said vaguely as if he was in a hurry. As if he was dodging questions. Blossom continued firing rounds behind her until she was out. With her enhanced agility, she replaced her magazine with a fresh one within a few seconds and continued her suppressive fire.

Bubbles had to block the bullets constantly from getting in her face. Frustrated, she shouldered her own MP5 and started firing back at Blossom. As she was flying behind her, she had the advantage of being able to shoot where she was looking - she was able to put a full burst of munitions into her sister's back. Blossom fired back in vain, yelling on top of her lungs as she took burst after burst of pain and bullets. The distance was closing; Blossom could feel fire in every part of her body as she was exhausting herself just to stay ahead.

When Bubbles ran out of ammunition for her submachinegun (she usually carried less than her sisters), she dropped the gun and pulled her sidearm out and started firing more shots. Blossom replaced her second magazine with a third, and, in a bid to recover lost distance, flipped herself around and started flying backward, allowing her to aim downrange, her SMG over her belly.

Blossom started firing on full auto. Bubbles covered her face as usual, but something else happened - a red aura - a kind of energy bubble, appeared around her. Blossom could see her tracer rounds bouncing off of it.

Bubbles stopped shielding her face, revealing a demented smile. Blossom emptied the rest of her magazine into her sister's red bubble uselessly, in some vain hope that it would do something, but it didn't. She screamed, her face contorted in fear as she watched Bubbles gaining rapidly on her despite everything she had done.

Bubbles threw a punch at Blossom the moment she got within range, without warning or compassion. It'd nearly knocked Blossom off-course. In her desperation, Blossom began firing her heat beam - despite being exhausted halfway to the underworld - but Bubbles was able to block them off too, with gritted teeth and tough smile on. It'd done nothing, but Blossom was able to free herself and give herself another burst of speed.

Bubbles kept pace by doing the same. The nightmare wasn't over.

"STOP!" Blossom screamed in desperation when she noticed that Bubbles just wouldn't let up no matter what she did. The suburbs had appeared in the distance, but it seemed so far even though it was close.

Bubbles flew on top of Blossom. Throwing a gaze over her shoulder, Blossom fired another infrared burst, doing nothing but searing red energy. Bubbles delivered a chop to the back of Blossom's neck, stunning her and causing her to drop. Bubbles, however, wasn't done with her. Landing on Blossom's back, she let herself fall with her sister. Putting an arm around her neck, she began choking her as she groped her chest for the smoke grenades attached there. When she'd found the pins, she pulled them off, one after another, before pushing the levers, one then the next.

When that was done, Bubbles let go and jumped off of Blossom, using her as a springboard during free fall, while at the same time kicking her towards the ground. She continued flying towards home, while Blossom, half-conscious and nearly out from the pain, exhaustion and smoke inhalation, could only watch as she fell, and soon, she wouldn't even be able to do that after her smoke grenades burst into clouds of smoke.

After falling a certain height, the kind that would have killed a normal kid ten times over, Blossom crashed through the roof of a suburban home, going right through the ceiling and into the room of a teenage goth girl, who jumped and sat up at the shock of such a thing happening out of the blue. Rock music was playing in the playground, but Blossom's landing was far louder.

The door to the goth girl's room slammed open as if rehearsed beforehand.

"How many times must I tell you!?" a man at the doorway scolded. "Keep your temper tantrums to yourself and turn that satanic music… down…" the man, the Goth's father, stared at the thing that had made a crater in the floor. A little girl, dressed like she was going to dominate a war game, utterly flabbergasted by the destruction in his home. "What the hell is that!?"

"Don't look at me, dad," the goth girl said. "I didn't cause her to fall through the ceiling!"

Together, the father and daughter approached the little girl with caution. Studying the girl, they noticed the smoke grenades on her vest, which was still giving out some smoke. Looking up, the father noticed that there was a column of smoke from the sky. He reasoned that smoke grenades were detonated in the sky, which meant…

They had seen the USDO operatives before, but mostly on television. He was told by the neighbors that they would emerge from somewhere around the neighborhood while he was away at work and return in the evening, but he had rarely seen the sight before.

While the suburban folks continued to study the newly-named Powerpuff Girl, her eyes fluttered open and she gave a shout out of surprise. The father and daughter jumped back from being startled, shouting just as much out of surprise.

Blossom remembered the trouble with Bubbles immediately upon waking up. There was no time for explanations, apologies, and pleasantries. After shuddering from the pain all over her body and discarding the spent smoke grenades, Blossom kicked off into a hovering position.

"Sorry about your roof," she apologized quickly before flying through the hole she made with a muted 'pew' sound. The goth girl and her father exchanged looks as another piece of the ceiling dropped, reminding them that the Powerpuff Girl named Blossom had torn a new skylight into their home.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1409.**

As Bubbles tore through the air towards The House, her home, she realized quickly that the USDO security force around it was fully prepared for her arrival. Airburst munitions were fired at her from humvees. The explosions threw her about like a ragdoll left and right, tearing away at her Kevlar armor until she started evading them. A recently acquired Apache attack helicopter, scrambled from the nearest USDO outpost, had arrived just in time to fire its miniguns at her. Numerous high-caliber rounds had struck her despite her speed and agility, though all they had done was to cause her pain and make her angrier than before if that was even possible.

But she couldn't stop. She could feel it - she was so close. Ignoring the vehicles and men firing at her, she crashed through the front door of her home, only to find more opposition - Selicia and Buttercup stood before her, standing between her and the airlock leading down to the lab, where Bubbles knew Dad would be.

Selicia was still in her T-shirt and jeans, with her vest hastily thrown over her and an XM9 Anti-Materials rifle in her hands. Bubbles had seen it before; her Mom had used it to wound Naga back in the Battle of Morbucks Industries Research Labs.

Buttercup had changed and was fully ready to do battle with her, with her MP5 clutched tightly in her hands, though the glow in her eyes was faint and Bubbles knew what it meant.

"Go up to your room before someone gets hurt, Bubbles!" Selicia warned.

"And I know who that someone will be!" Buttercup boasted, raising her MP5 at Bubbles. Bubbles glared at them – they were family, but they were selfish. They had been tormenting her for months. In her twisted mind, whatever good memories she shared with them were shoved aside, forgotten in her rage.

Without warning, Bubbles dashed towards them in a zig-zag fashion. Selicia couldn't even begin to track her with her Duranium rifle. Buttercup was ripping up the living room with her submachine gun, and even if she had hit Bubbles, she wasn't showing any sign of it.

By the time Selicia fired a Duranium round, Bubbles had already gotten up to her, pushing aside the Duranium barrel of her gun and charging into her and knocking her into the wall. Clutching the barrel of her gun, she pulled it away, disarming her, and hurled it out of her reach.

"Mom!" Buttercup shouted as she was exchanging her empty magazine with a fresh one. Letting Selicia slide to the floor, Bubbles threw a punch at her, lightning-quick, and Buttercup couldn't dodge it in time.

The train coach that was Bubbles' fist had knocked her to the floor, yards away. Buttercup's gun went off, putting holes in the ceiling.

Bubbles followed Buttercup as she skidded on the ground, and didn't let up by giving her a few kicks when she was down.

Fortunately, she didn't have long to do much damage as Selicia had drawn her stun baton, which was set to maximum charge, and jabbed at Bubbles' back with it, shocking her.

Bubbles screamed, but it hardly immobilized her and she was able to get away from the baton easily to avoid any further electrical pain. Selicia thrust it at her for a second strike, but Bubbles was able to dodge it easily before grabbing it and Mom by the neck.

Selicia screamed bloody fury as she tried to pull away, but Bubbles' grip was vice-like. Wrenching the baton out of her Mom's grasp, she gave her a right hook before she could recover.

Her head was slammed against the wall hard, and there was a splatter of blood. Selicia slid down the wall a second time, painting more of it red on the way.

Buttercup, in the meantime, had recovered enough to shoot laser beams at her from where she sat, but they were too weak to do much damage, merely carving her Kevlar vest as she came towards her. Bubbles gripped her Mom's stun baton tightly. Buttercup switched back to firing her gun, but it was futile.

When Bubbles came within range, she smacked Buttercup's MP5 out of her hands and kicked her in the face.

"This is for hurting me!" Bubbles yelled before jabbing the stun baton into her side while she held Buttercup by the collar. It'd made Buttercup squeal in pain as she thrashed about on the floor. Bubbles didn't stop until she stopped squirming - but on seeing her eyes, which were still open, and hearing her moaning, she slammed Buttercup's head into the floor, making a crater there, where blood began to pool.

Just when she thought she could walk through the airlock leading to the lab unimpeded, something crashed through a window in the kitchen before bounding towards her.

Blossom dashed to block Bubbles from entering the airlock, sliding into position as her momentum was strong. In her entrance, she had seen what Bubbles had done to Mom and Buttercup. There was a lot of blood. They looked as though they would need to be hospitalized, at least, or buried in the dirt, at worse.

And the worst part was that Blossom didn't even have the time to be shocked, to act like the little girl she was.

"What did you do, Bubbles!?" Blossom scolded her out-of-control sister.

"They deserved it! They were both hurting me!" Bubbles shouted defensively. "Like you!"

"And now you've hurt your family," Blossom said, and that got Bubbles to quiet down as she couldn't think of a counter-argument, as damaged by drugs as she was.

Instead, Bubbles reached behind her and pulled her first-aid kit out. Opening it roughly and breaking it open, she pulled a Duranium scalpel out of it and trashed the rest of the first-aid kit on the floor. Bandages, band-aids, bottles of antiseptic, pain medication and rubber gloves spilled from the ruined kit, abandoned by Bubbles.

Letting out a shriek, Bubbles lunged at Blossom without a warning, when the latter was expecting her to say something. Blossom fired her heat beam at her, only for Bubbles' new red bubble shield thing to block it. Within a second, Bubbles was all over her, trying to stab her with the Duranium scalpel. She was able to pin Blossom against the wall and lift her off her feet with one hand, no matter how hard Blossom tried to push back.

Blossom's hand had found its way onto Bubbles' wrist, trying to push the Duranium scalpel away, but it was looming closer, the blade inching towards her, coming… But not yet, as Blossom head-butted Bubbles and pushed her away while she was rubbing her nose, which bled copiously from the force.

Glaring at Blossom, Bubbles, looking especially unhinged with blood all over her face, screamed and charged at her again, swinging the Duranium scalpel wildly at her, forcing her to back away towards the middle of the living room. Drawing her pistol, Blossom fired at her in self-defense, though even without her new red bubble ability, Bubbles wasn't even fazed by the gunshots.

Eventually, one of Bubbles' swings had sliced Blossom in the hand, forcing her to drop the pistol. Shocked at the amount of pain it caused, the wound it dug in her, Blossom wasn't able to react when Bubbles lunged at Blossom a second time again, tackling her to the ground. Bubbles, again, tried to stab Blossom with the Duranium scalpel, but Blossom was able to grab Bubbles by the wrists, after accidentally slitting her fingers on the blade of the scalpel in the scuffle.

The scalpel floated over Blossom like some doom pendulum in an Edgar Allan Poe story. With a crazy scream, Bubbles applied all her strength to it, putting her weight and entire upper body strength into it. The scalpel came ever closer to Blossom, who screamed as well, but not in bloodlust and aggression, but in fear, until…

Blossom felt it penetrate her, piercing through her as if the scalpel was a butter knife and she was the butter. In the struggle, the scalpel had gone deep into her shoulder. The pain was unbearable, so much so that for a split second, Blossom thought she might have lost consciousness there and then, and though it was but for a split second, it was long enough for Bubbles to direct two more punches at her, until she was limp, until she had lost consciousness for sure.

Bubbles stood back up when she saw that she had finally done it - knocked Blossom out for the count. For a time, she stood there, just gazing at Blossom, wondering if she should finish the job. But in the end, she decided that killing one family member was enough - two would be too much. The fairy godmother promised a dozen syringes if she killed her evil Dad, and that had to be enough. She really didn't want to have to sacrifice two of her kin if she could help it. She'd thought, perhaps, that the fairy godmother might see it fit to reward her more of her magic anyway if she would just obey her like a good girl and kill her father without any further hesitation.

Walking away, Bubbles padded towards the airlock.

"Fire!" a USDO PTF soldier ordered from a living room window. More soldiers started popping out of windows and doors, firing their weapons at Bubbles.

"Leave me alone!" Bubbles screamed and turned around, firing a red ion beam from her eyes that swept across the windows and door of the living room. Men screamed in fear, pain and confusion. It was a new power but she didn't care; she was absorbed in her own pain, regret and need for the drug. She tried opening the airlock door, but found it sealed, so she pried it open anyway, forcing it open. There were creaks in the door, which groaned and bent and screamed as Bubbles broke it open. Walking into the airlock, she closed the door back up. Bullets ricocheted against it as she forced her way through the inner airlock door as well, as the few USDO PTF soldiers who weren't injured or dead tried futilely to slow her down.

Despite her rage, despite her insanity, her mind twisted by the workings of someone or something, Bubbles could not help but feel a little nervous, and anxious. Would her Dad fight her in an attempt to defend himself? She was still unsure if she would back out, even if there was a huge bounty on his head. Regret wormed its way into her, as always, even though she hadn't gone through with it, even if she hadn't discovered if she would lament her decision to silence her Dad, such that she would never hear his soothing voice again…


	56. Chapter 50: No Going Back (Part 5)

**Chapter 50: No Going Back (Part 5)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1416.**

'That's good, sweetie,' Dad, dressed in white like an angel with his white lab coat, said as he was holding Blossom up by the arms and mounting her feet on his own. 'Now use your legs and keep yourself straight.'

He started walking, and as Blossom was standing on top of his feet, she started walking too. She squealed in delight at discovering walking. It was such a simple thing, walking, but she was simple back then too, and it brought her so much more joy than flying for the umpteenth time on patrol ever could.

'Now try it yourself,' he said before carrying her by the armpits and putting her on the carpeted floor. She was able to stand on her own as strength wasn't the issue. He crossed the room and put his arms out. 'Come to papa!'

Blossom tried to put one foot in front of the other, and for a few steps, she succeeded. But on the fourth or fifth, she tripped on her own foot and fell, knee first. She bawled like a baby, and Dad ran towards her, holding her tightly, cooing her.

'It's okay to fall, Blossom,' he said. 'It's how we learn to get up again.'

_It's okay to fall_

'Dada…' Blossom struggled to do what Dad called 'speaking'. Although she didn't even know the word then, she was thankful for her Dad's coddling.

_It's okay to fall_

But then a kind of mist started swirling around her. She tried swiping them away, but they wouldn't go away. When she looked around at her Dad again, he had turned into a skeleton. She couldn't even begin to scream when she saw that Daddy was no more.

_It's how we learn to get up again._

Blossom came to the moment she heard the airlock door slam shut, though, with her mind numb and fuzzy, she couldn't decide what the noise was at first. Sitting up, she felt immediate, sharp pain in her shoulder, and when she looked down, she was met with a ghastly sight - Bubbles' scalpel was buried deep in her shoulder. The entire blade had disappeared inside. The pain would erupt with any slight movement. Blood had started running down the handle and dripping from its tip the moment she sat up.

Then everything hit her like a sledgehammer. Dad. Bubbles. She looked at Buttercup and Mom, hoping that they could protect him in her absence, but their lights were out, and judging by how much they were bleeding from their heads, they weren't in any condition to fight or even defend themselves, much less protect Dad.

She tried forcing herself to stand up, but she crashed back down when the pain in her shoulder became unbearable, instantly. The Duranium blade inside was sharp, and it was rubbing against the walls of her wound the moment she moved.

"Y-you… h-have… to take it out…" Mom, who had come to as well, said, though she was barely conscious, and she wasn't moving at all. "Please… H-hurry. Y-your Dad…"

"I can't! It hurts so bad!" Blossom cried the moment she realized her predicament was inescapable – at least not without feeling an obscene amount of pain. She felt like hurling just by thinking of pulling it out.

"You have to hurry… please…" her Mom said, before falling silent once again. Even though it'd hurt enough to make her nauseous, Blossom crept up to her to hold her hand, but all Selicia could manage was a weak squeeze before she passed out again.

"Mom? Mom!" Blossom cried – and though she would have preferred Dad's company, Mom still meant something to her. That she couldn't help feeling devastating on top of everything. "Don't leave me like this…"

But even as she was crying, she knew she had to get to Dad and stop Bubbles, somehow. Gripping the handle of the scalpel hesitantly, she started pulling it out, bit by bit, the sharp blade slicing and biting against her raw flesh, causing bleeding anew.

She screamed aloud, before and after she yanked it out.

Even Bubbles could hear her bloodcurdling scream from underground, as she descended the stairs towards Dad. She could have flown down the stairs, but she wanted to take her time this time, perhaps to think about what she was about to do, or perhaps to think of a way out of this. But she knew she wasn't Blossom, and the pain in her internals was doing the deciding for her. The only way was forward, towards Dad, and towards his end. In fact, she was beginning to regret leaving Blossom alive as the fairy godmother had promised an unlimited supply of her magic – and a new life for Buttercup and Mom too, if she did. It felt like the kind of good - the only good - she could do to redeem herself for killing Dad and one of her sisters.

But that decision would have to be decided later as she had arrived at the foot of the stairs, not far from Dad now, wherever he was.

When she emerged into the wide space underground that was the laboratory, she had expected to have to search every nook and cranny for her Dad. She had looked up to him, but she knew that he was only human and a regular human at that - weak, slow and afraid, and regular human beings tend to either die fighting in vain or run away and hide.

But no, Dad didn't do either of those. He was sitting behind his desk, looking at something. Bubbles couldn't see, and so she walked closer, still avoiding flight altogether until she could see what he was doing.

Dad was looking at a framed photo. Her sight was good enough - better than most people on the planet - that she could see from afar that he was looking at a picture of them, the entire family. On the desk was a large sniper rifle, the exact same model as Mom's - which he wasn't even holding.

"Dad," Bubbles said to the man coldly, her eyes still an unwavering hellish red. He seemed to shrink upon hearing her voice, hunching as though the entire house had collapsed upon him. Then, with his forearms braced against the desk, he pushed himself up to stand, as if with difficulty. His hand had found its way to the XM9 anti-material rifle, but he wasn't shouldering it. He was carrying it as if it was a briefcase, not a weapon.

"Hello, Bubbles," he greeted his adopted daughter.

"Are you going to shoot me, Daddy?" Bubbles asked as she stood rooted to the ground. The professor looked down at the Duranium gun he was holding as if deciding.

"No," he said. "I won't. I can't. I love you, Bubbles." With that, he set down the gun on his swivel chair.

"What happened to you, sweetie?" the Dad asked, taking a step forward. There was no fear in his eyes, just concern, and sadness.

"Bad things…" Bubbles said, herself upset. Faced with this moment of truth, she couldn't help but weep at the inevitability of things. "Lots of bad things."

"You can tell me, Bubbles," he said and came even closer. "This can end here."

"No," Bubbles clamped up.

"I'm your father. I can help you," he went on, now almost within arm's reach. "You've come back from this before. Remember? When you and Buttercup were fighting here? You can do it again."

"YOU don't know what I'VE been GOING through!" Bubbles screamed all of a sudden, but her Dad wasn't deterred. He wasn't even shocked at the slightest. It was as if he knew she was going to explode. "You don't know!"

"I know, Bubbles," Dad said.

"You don't know," Bubbles ranted madly. "You don't know! You can't know! I haven't told you!"

"It's the drug, isn't it?" Dad said. Bubbles opened her mouth, before shutting it, saying nothing more, so he went on: "I examined Buttercup last night, Bubbles. I couldn't find any sign of the drug in her. It threw me for a loop for a while, until Blake called."

"It's a lie," Bubbles denied. "He's LYING!"

"Let me help you," Dad offered again. He was close enough, and he'd bent down to bring himself to her eye level, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I can help you."

Bubbles closed her eyes, tears spilling out. But then she opened them again, her eyes were still a shocking red, and now she was glaring at him.

"You were never there!" she snarled at him, before giving him a punch in the stomach, which sent him sprawling. He tried to get up again, but there a sharp pain in his gut prevented him from rising from his knees. "You were never there! You COULDN'T protect me! You were SUPPOSED to PROTECT me! Now LOOK at me, Dad! LOOK AT ME!"

"Bubbles… I…" the professor uttered as he was clutching his stomach while kneeling on the tiled floor. Before he could say anything more, Bubbles picked him up by the collar and tossed him into the wall, where he slid down in a heap, his legs sprawled out in a rough sitting position, as if he was a ragdoll thrown against the wall. He wasn't moving after that.

"STOP!" came the voice of another little girl. Bubbles turned around and saw Blossom hovering lazily towards her, down the stairs, unsteady. She was clutching her shoulder, where there was a lot of bleeding. Blood was still dripping onto the floor from her, forming red beads. In her other hand was Mom's anti-material rifle, and when Blossom touched down and started walking towards her, the barrel was dragging on the ground. The moment she saw Dad slumped on the wall, she tried to raise the rifle, but Bubbles was faster. Quick-drawing her pistol, Bubbles pointed it at the unconscious Dad.

"NO! Don't!" Blossom screamed. She lowered her rifle again, afraid that Bubbles might go through with it, ending the life of a father she loved beyond words. "Bubbles, PLEASE! Don't do it!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Bubbles said, her pistol still trained on Dad, her hand shivering slightly from her drug problem.

"He's your Dad! Our Dad!" Blossom screamed desperately. "Don't kill him! Please!"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1419.**

A red muscle car pulled up on the driveway of The House. The scene was one of utter devastation. In the distance, up in the sky, an Apache attack helicopter was on the retreat, likely rendered useless by the number of friendlies on the ground precluding mad minute tactics. Half the USDO PTF soldiers looked like they were victims of a lab accident involving lasers, though surprisingly, no one was killed. Whichever hospital was taking them in, however, would have its work cut out for it. The other half of the soldiers had to tend to their injured squadmates.

Detective Mullens got out of his car from the driver's seat. Olivia disembarked from the shotgun. A huge German Shepherd weaseled out from the back after opening the door by itself.

"Talker, stay behind me," Garrett ordered as he was pulling out his pistol. "Olivia, beside me."

They had been working in the background all along, informing Blake of their discoveries, planning Bubbles' capture and whatever contingency plans they needed - except it had all gone to shit. Bubbles was unpredictable, he knew, but the degree of it was unknown. Who would have thought that her own family would be a target?

The detective and his companions ran straight through the door of The House with reckless abandon. There was no point in caution - if they were in, they were all in. No amount of cover and firearms could protect them from the kind of hurt Bubbles could put out. No, he wasn't counting on either of that to win the day, if it was at all possible.

He knew there was no guarantee of getting out of this one alive. All he knew was that he owed the Girls.

When they were in the living room, it was as if they were stepping into a war zone. There were cracks and craters everywhere, bullet holes riddled the walls and ceiling. Bubbles had drawn a trail of destruction with her newly-discovered ion beam.

Selicia Goodwin and Buttercup were bleeding on the floor. Detective Mullens went straight for the woman. His daughter tended to Buttercup.

"Still alive," the detective said after he felt for a pulse and found one, thankfully. Had Bubbles killed her own mother, he doubt that the little girl would be able to come back from this.

"Buttercup's breathing," Olivia announced.

"Poor kid…" Stanley Talker said as he began licking Buttercup in the face. "Ri ron't ragree with her way rof doing things, but no rone deserves this."

"Olivia, Stan, get them both fixed up," the senior detective said, just as he had caught sight of the ruined door of the airlock leading down. "I'm going in."

With that, he raced down the stairs to the lab, his pistol still out due only to force of habit. At this point, his firearm was more liability than an asset. There was no doubt that he was on the right track - as his track was marked by blood - whose, he could only guess. What he was sure of was that it was bad, no matter whose blood it was.

His fears were confirmed when he emerged into the huge, wide-open space of the lab, where Bubbles was keeping her own Dad, who was unconscious and slumped against the wall, at gunpoint, and Blossom was crying helplessly, pleading with her sister to stop.

"Bubbles!" Detective Mullens called out to her. She reacted by pointing her sidearm at him. He raised his arms in surrender, his pistol along with it. "Hey, easy, kid! I'm just here to talk!"Blossom looked at the detective, fearful of what might happen next.

Bubbles, without warning, shot him in the chest. Confirming Blossom's fears. She jumped when she did, fresh tears spilling anew. Mullens was knocked off his feet by the force of the gunshot, crashing to the ground, his pistol clattering on the ground, his hands going up to his chest. After coughing and wincing and curling up, he fell silent, all while Blossom had to look.

Bubbles returned the aim of her gun back to Dad.

"You- You just killed Mister Mullens!" Blossom screamed hysterically. "You killed him!" Bubbles was silent as she studied her sister.

"Why, Bubbles?" the leader sister wondered aloud as she started pacing. "Why now? I thought we worked this all out!"

"We tried to kill each other, Blossom, my dear sister," Bubbles replied unexpectedly, but her gun was still trained on Dad, something that Blossom was deathly afraid of. This way, Dad was just a hair-trigger away from being lost forever. "Things can't go back to how it used to be. I know it. Not when I have to do this."

"But why, Bubbles? Why kill Dad?" Blossom asked. She'd been working her way towards Bubbles, a fraction of an inch at a time, though it was not to say that her questions were distractions or false. "He loves us!"

"T-the fairy godmother…" Bubbles uttered, knowing full well by now how ridiculous it sounded. "She promised me more if I do it."

"What did she promise you?" Blossom asked, getting a little closer to Bubbles with each passing minute. She had no idea who this 'fairy godmother' was. In fact, it sounded as if Bubbles was just losing her mind.

"Her magic," Bubbles admitted tearfully. "She promised me more magic."

"Magic?" Blossom asked, confused. Magic was the stuff of fairy tales, not real life. Yes, Blossom decided. Bubbles was just losing her mind. The blood on her face, covering her nose and mouth, didn't help with that impression. Not only that, she refused to take responsibility for what she had done, what she was doing.

"This is all YOUR fault!" Bubbles exploded once more, her pistol arm shaking. Blossom thought she might never breathe again. She took another subtle step closer to Bubbles. "They gave me the power I need to fight crime - and you needed me to fight crime. I can't stop taking it now. This is YOUR fault! And now Dad's going to DIE because of YOU!"

"The fairy godmother promised, Blossom," Bubbles repeated herself. "I'm going to kill you too after I kill Dad. She'll take care of Mom and Buttercup that way, because Dad never did."

"You're a bad leader, Blossom," Bubbles went on. "You failed everyone. You failed me. The fairy godmother will be a better leader than you. That's what she said."

Blossom squeezed her eyes shut, contemplating, thinking of what she could do, what she had to do. Mullens was killed. Before that, she had severely injured Stanley Talker. Bubbles had attacked Mom and Buttercup - whether they were dead or alive, she didn't know. Almost everyone she knew and cared about was either hurt badly or killed, and Dad was going to join them. She opened her eyes again, her gaze concentrating deeply on Bubbles.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Bubbles," Blossom inched closer, slightly towards her Dad. Bubbles' eyes flitted down to the Duranium sniper rifle in Blossom's hands, before coming back up to meet Blossom's eyes. "We can still work this out - that's what sisters are for. Things could still go back to how they used to be."

"No, Blossom! It can't!" Bubbles exclaimed madly, her finger still a fraction of an inch away from setting off her gun. Then, she burst into tears on the bare mention of things that once were. "I've shot Mister Mullens, and I've hurt Dad… Mom… and Buttercup. I've hurt you. The magic! The magic in ME! IT'S BURNING ME!"

"They'll all forgive you, Bubbles. Dad's going to help you with your… problem," Blossom insisted, still inching her way closer to Bubbles, getting between her and Dad. She was just a few arm's lengths away from her. "What about spring? We talked about it all the time."

"Spring?" Bubbles uttered, as though the word she said was sacred.

"Remember what Dad said about spring? The world will be full of colors and the flowers will bloom. The butterflies will flutter and the bees will buzz around," Blossom described. Bubbles' pistol arm wavered as it shook, but it stayed on Dad. Bubbles couldn't stop crying. Blossom was getting closer and closer to her, and she was none the wiser. "We're going to put down our guns, and we can go back, Bubbles. We can go back to Dad, together."

"Dad…" Bubbles cried.

"Dad and Mom, you, me and Buttercup - we could all go have a picnic in the park. Mom's going to show us her secret sandwich recipe. We'll see the beautiful trees and flowers, Bubbles. You've always wanted to pick some Dandelions and give them to us," Blossom continued to describe hopefully as she came within arm's length of Bubbles. Bubbles' mouth was wide open; she herself could see spring, as it was pictured in the books and given in detail by Dad. She was staring into Blossom's eyes with her hellish red eyes, but she wasn't really 'all there'. "We'll take turns riding a pony at a real stable. We'll meet the cowboys. We'll laugh and play together… Put all this behind us… We can be like sisters again, Bubbles, like before."

For the first time in a long time, Bubbles smiled, her eyes full of longing, her mouth wide, as if she could taste it. Blossom motioned for her to take her sniper rifle, as a sign of trust, and while Bubbles took it by the middle as her eyes flitted down, Blossom pulled something out of her back pouch and lunged at her.

Bubbles felt something sharp going through her throat. She knew what it was even without seeing it. There was a sharp pain there, and she couldn't help but squeeze her pistol hand in shock and pain, setting off her pistol - but Blossom had planned all this. She'd grabbed Bubbles' wrist before that, pulled it aside. The shot that went off had gone elsewhere, and not into her Dad's forehead.

A shocking amount of blood splattered onto both Blossom and Bubbles when the former had stabbed the latter's throat, who then proceeded to pull the scalpel sideways, slicing windpipe and arteries all the way through. Bubbles collapsed, and Blossom caught her, lowering her down gently to the floor, at the same time withdrawing the scalpel she had used to mortally wound her own sister.

"YOU MADE ME, BUBBLES!" Blossom hollered and screamed and cried into Bubbles' face as she was coughing and retching up blood, her red eyes staring in shock and betrayal into Blossom's pink eyes. "YOU FORCED ME TO DO THIS! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DID THIS! NOT ME! NOT ME!"

Anger wasn't the only thing in Bubbles' voice, or mind, or eyes. Tears fell as she did this, as she saw the results of what she was forced to do.

"S-s-spr…" Bubbles tried to say, but with her windpipe sliced, she couldn't do it without coughing up a lot of blood and sputtering. Blossom cradled Bubbles' head, holding her close to her as she lay there, bleeding, wailing in utter misery at what she had to do.

In the meantime, Mister Mullens had dragged himself up to a sitting position, unbuttoning his trenchcoat. His chest felt like an industrial accident. Although the Kevlar there had caught the pistol bullet, the force was still strong enough to knock him flat. Although it was far from the first time he had been shot, it was something he could never get used to. His ribs felt sore. He wouldn't be surprised if his x-ray turned out to be a mess. But the scene before him was worse.

"Jesus…" he uttered when he realized what happened. Meanwhile, his colleagues were racing down the stairs. They stopped descending and stared when they realized that the situation was resolved, albeit in a less-than-ideal fashion.

There was blood all over the place, and a Duranium scalpel was lying in a pool of it. Blossom had done what he'd been trying to avoid all this while, what he'd dedicated his life to prevent.

And now Bubbles was lying in a pool of her own blood. In Blossom's arm.

It was over.


	57. Chapter 51: Death and Life

**(To view the early concept of the art for the cover of Act 3 of The Powerpuff Girls: Declassified, go to this chapter on Archive of Our Own)**

* * *

**Chapter 51: Death and Life**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1419.**

When Professor Utonium had come to, what he saw next made going back to unconsciousness preferable. Blossom and Bubbles – two of his darling babies – were covered in blood. Both of them were injured, one more than the other, and Blossom was cradling Bubbles in her arms, and where she was once full of energy and action, she was on the floor, wailing. Bubbles was lifeless in her arms.

Even from where he was, he could tell how grievous the wound was. There was a bloody scalpel on the floor. Where Blossom had gotten it he had no idea, but it was likely the weapon used to slit Bubbles' throat wide open, and blood was pouring out at an alarming rate.

"I'm sorry, Bubbles, I'm so sorry…" Blossom cried as she hugged her mortally wounded sister closely. "I love you… Goodbye…"

After giving Bubbles a kiss on the cheek, Blossom got up, laying her down on the floor gently and respectfully, oblivious of anyone's presence. She couldn't get far, however, before she collapsed to her knees and vomited on the floor, before rolling over and falling unconscious on her back.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1605.**

The professor himself was covered in blood. He was sitting outside the front door of his home. He didn't want to get back inside, no matter how freezing it was outside. His hands, bloody from his previous ordeal, were shaking, but it wasn't from the cold. He stared into the distance, into the empty house opposite the street to his own that was bought out by the USDO. PTF soldiers stood aside and far away, speaking in hushed tones as if they knew what kind of turmoil he was suffering from inside.

He looked to his right and saw the only real neighbor he had. Smith, he thought, just turning around and walking back into his own home.

The world seemed different now – the color, the shapes, the feel of it – even though the only thing that had really changed was his family.

When he had to create reinforcement for the Girls, when he created Chemical X2 just for that, he didn't think that he would be introducing reinforcement in the most literal, military sense of the word. Was it destiny all along? Fate? He was never a man of faith; what faith he had, he'd placed them on the people around him, and most recently, on the shoulders of his family. And now, even that was gone. There was only cold, hard facts and data; science. And it wasn't looking good.

He didn't think that when he was about to create reinforcement for the Girls – be he or she a brother or a sister – that he would be-

…Replacing Bubbles.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1614.**

Behind him, the front door opened. A fellow intelligentsia in a lab coat stepped out of the entrance. Gingerly skirting around him, he lowered himself down beside him to join him on the concrete before his front door.

He had old, wrinkled skin, white hair. It was Doctor Simmons, the medical director of the USDO.

"It's nasty, what happened," the old doctor said delicately. "We're sorry about what happened."

The professor continued staring into the distance, into the city center of Townsville, that damned city, that city that was constantly threatening to swallow his Girls whole. At long last, it had succeeded in dragging one into its gaping maw like some monster.

He was still shaking after everything.

"Blossom's stable. So is Selicia and Buttercup," the doctor reported. "Bubbles, however…"

"Look, we did the best we can. You did," Doctor Simmons went on when he realized that the professor wasn't going to open up no matter what. He put an arm around the relatively young man.

"Come back inside. It's freezing out here. Come back inside, your family needs you, now more than ever. The last thing they need is for you to join them in the sick bed, fighting hypothermia. I think your concussion is enough; it's a wonder how you could even operate, the way you are."

"I can't," Professor Utonium said.

"Remember the story I told you about my past?" Doctor Simmons said. The professor didn't reply. "I couldn't save those kids. I didn't try. I gave up and I paid the price. You've been strong. I know it's hard, but you need to keep going."

"I can't, okay!?" the professor yelled, but the old doctor didn't seem shocked by it, as if he expected it.

"Why?" he asked, instead.

"I should have known – it was all going to blow and it happened right under my nose!" the professor cried, his face in his hands. "All the signs were there, all the science. Bubbles' 'new power', her symptoms, the drugs – I've seen the data and the effects. A detective all but told me-"

"Don't beat yourself up over it-" the old doctor comforted him, but it didn't stick.

"How can I not!?" the professor said. "I'm a scientist and a doctor. The USDO recruited me because I'm one of the best. I let my personal feelings get in the way and my family paid the price for it!"

"You're a human being, one of the most human I've ever met-" the old doctor tried again, but Professor Utonium went on as if he had said nothing.

"I accused Buttercup of deception when she was telling the truth for once, and now look what happened to her," the professor cried. "And I believed Bubbles when I shouldn't have, just because I thought she was sweet and incapable of deception. And Blossom… she had to- she had to-"

"Enough, Upton," the doctor said finally. "All that is past. You can't undo it, just like how I couldn't bring those Jewish children back… no matter how many times I wished upon a star, all those years while I wandered Europe. But you're in the now, you can change things now!"

The professor nodded. Doctor Simmons helped him up; he was surprisingly strong, given his age and it wasn't all thanks to the health regimen given to all USDO personnel. Together, they went back inside and back down to the lab.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**21 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1420.**

Beep… Beep… Beep… a heart monitor chanted in its vigil over its patient. Professor Utonium had been sitting beside her almost on a nightly basis too, despite everything that had happened. He couldn't blame her for it, after all, after thinking about it over the course of three days.

Standing up, he stretched, and he could hear his joints cracking. Bending down, he kissed his little patient in the forehead, before walking around one of the arms of the Duranium table she was fastened to, so he could check the heart rate monitor and adjust it for the umpteenth time for calibration. He knew that the machine was fine and functioning as it should be. Just that with everything in his head, with all the anxiety and nervousness he felt, his hands got busy. He needed problems to solve, even if they weren't there.

"D-dad?" a faint, hoarse voice cried while he was tinkling with the monitor. He whirled around, almost knocking it over, and he rushed over to his little patient.

"Bubbles!" he said as he came up to her, holding her head and kissing her in the forehead again.

"I… can't move…" she said while she began to struggle, but she was held in a spread-eagled position by Duranium restraints on a Duranium bed, the same one that was used to disempower Buttercup. She was covered with a blanket for comfort but naked underneath due to her withdrawal symptoms, which meant endless, profuse sweating. It was also for easy access whenever she needed to be cleaned and maintained or if he needed to inject her or poke and prod her with whatever Duranium implements he needed to perform the many medical examinations he had to undertake to understand her condition better.

He couldn't take the chance. He didn't need a repeat of what happened three days ago. Bubbles was going to stay in the table until he was sure she wasn't going to hurt anyone.

"It's for your own good, honey," he said. "I'm sorry if it's uncomfortable, but I'll be here with you, always."

"I'm sorry for everything, Dad," Bubbles cried. "I didn't mean to."

The professor pulled a couple of napkins from a box beside her and helped her wipe the tears away.

"I know," he said.

"How do you know?" Bubbles asked.

"Because I know you're the sweetest, kindest little girl there is," the professor said, holding her hand even though he knew he was putting himself at risk. "That wasn't you, three days ago."

"Three days?" Bubbles asked, confused.

"Yes, it's been three days, Bubbles," the professor said. Bubbles had been healing for three days too. Thinking back, it hadn't been easy even for her superior biology. It was only by dint of her enhanced oxygen capacity and anaerobic resistance that she had survived having her windpipe severed in two. Normal people would have been lost in five minutes; Bubbles had survived the ten minutes it took for the professor to drain her lungs of blood and hook her up to an artificial respiration machine. "You shouldn't feel as bad as you used to without the drug."

"But what about Blossom? And Buttercup? And Mom?" Bubbles said. "And… I killed Mister Mullens…"

"They're all fine, sweetie," the professor said.

"Promise?" Bubbles asked. She was smart and experienced enough to know that adults wouldn't always tell the truth, even the good ones.

"Promise. Here, I'll even pinkie swear it," the professor reassured her by wrapping his pinkie around hers. He still couldn't believe how tiny her fingers were – next to how much power there were behind them. Power that had killed, and nearly destroyed the family when someone had abused her naïve nature, whoever had supplied her with the drugs.

The professor then walked around to the head of the bed and lifted her head up for her gently. Bubbles winced. The traumatic injury in her neck was mostly healed, but not entirely. The damage was severe enough that even her healing factor couldn't fix it overnight, and neither in three days.

"They've been busy, in fact, see?" the professor said. He'd lifted her head up so she could see the entrance leading into the Duranium table room and the glass wall surrounding it.

The glass wall was filled with drawing blocks depicting the Girls. Though the drawings were basic, it didn't matter, and the intentions and meaning showed through. One of them had the three of them playing with the swings in a playground. Another was a scene in school with Miss Keane. One of them was Blossom and Bubbles playing with toys horses in a toy corral and toy barn.

But the next few ones were even more poignant. It was the park, lushly green and filled with colorful flowers and bees and butterflies buzzing about. Another was all three Girls riding ponies, and the ground was green with tall grasses all sticking out.

"Spring…" Bubbles mumbled. The professor had to wipe her tears away constantly after that.

"The three of you are really looking forward to it, aren't you?" the professor said. "The picnic idea's definitely on the table. So is the zoo trip, and the horse riding. Get better soon, Bubbles, so we can experience your first spring together… At your best."

There was distant chatter from the outside. Giggles. Bubbles could recognize who they were even from afar. They were people she'd been with for most of her waking moment. People she tried to kill. A wave of unbearable shame and misery overwhelmed Bubbles when she realized she was about to meet more people she tried to kill and had wounded badly as a result – and they were her sisters, too.

Outside, Blossom and Buttercup were approaching the Duranium table room. They had to weave past numerous soldiers at their posts to get there. After Bubbles' drug-induced, violent and deadly outburst, Captain Scott of the PTF and General Blackwater just couldn't take the chance. As such, they had basically stationed an entire company of soldiers in Professor Utonium's lab just in case. There were machinegun nests pointed at the thin corridor leading to the Duranium table room. Behind them were sniper nests, each with several crack-shot snipers, and each team of snipers had their best armed with the modified Duranium XM9 anti-material rifle. Squads more of soldiers were stationed above ground.

The closer Blossom got to Bubbles, the more she doubted herself, and her sisterhood and relationship with her. Each step became harder than the next to put forward. After all, things had changed far too frequently and drastically, like night to day, winter to summer…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**19 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1951.**

Concerned about Blossom, Professor Utonium had decided to check on her, bringing along some new dessert for her to try, a strawberry lava cake. It wasn't the first time he had to check on her since… it… happened. Just an hour earlier, after watching Blossom sit through her dinner without taking a nibble, he had to intervene when Blossom decided to shut herself in the washroom and take a bath on her own.

He had to break down the door after hearing her trying to drown herself. She had been trying several times while he was dressing Selicia and Buttercup in fresh bandages.

Thankfully, he didn't need to break another door down this time, but he did hear her grunting and shrieking, tearing things apart. On entering the room, he saw her ripping Bubbles' drawings off the wall and tearing them to shreds.

"Blossom?" the Professor called out to his adopted daughter while he was setting down the strawberry lava cake. Blossom stopped immediately, but she did not turn to face him. Instead, she stood in that corner of the room, shreds of colored drawing block all around her, some still drifting in the air as if infused by Bubbles' powers.

He could tell that she had been weeping from the sniffling. She had fallen silent, likely trying very hard to control her emotions but failing; children her age cried a lot, among other things; it was as much a biological imperative as it was the result of inexperience.

"I'm not mad, you know," the professor reassured her. "You can turn around. Stop standing there like you've broken a vase or something. I've brought something really nice up. I think you'll like it."

"You're just trying to make me feel better. I promised not to hurt her but I did," Blossom cried, wiping tears away. "I broke my promise and I hurt her bad, and her blood was all over me…"

"I lied to her and I tricked her. I hate myself!" she wept.

"You're not being fair to yourself. You were forced to," Professor Utonium reasoned. "You didn't want to."

"I HATE her!" Blossom suddenly shouted and slammed her fists against the wall. The professor could feel a tremor even on the floor. "She did all this! I hate her!"

"No, you don't. This isn't who you are," the professor said. "You're angry and upset. But you don't have to be alone. I'm here, Blossom. Don't push me away."

Blossom flew to him when her self-imposed isolation grew too unbearable. Hugging him around the chest, she wetted the professor's lab coat with her tears so much that it had soaked through down to his shirt. The professor hugged back. Bringing her to her bed, he sat down and let her off, seating her on his lap.

"Bubbles wasn't herself either," the professor continued. "If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't her who did all that. Don't blame her for it, flower blossom."

"But she nearly killed Mom and Buttercup! And Mister Mullens! And she nearly killed you!" Blossom cried. "And Stanley… And those men with the Mayor!"

"You know about her drug problem, right? I told you about it after Bubbles' surgery," the professor reasoned with her. They had gone back to hugging each other. There was no one else; Mom, Buttercup and Bubbles were all unconscious, and as it stood, none of them could hold a candle to the Dad in Blossom's eyes. "She's been using… it. Which means someone's been feeding her the drug. Someone else tricked her first, forcing you to do the same. You need to understand that. Will you try that, Blossom?"

Blossom took an awfully long time to make a decision, which scared the professor. It could mean that she was hesitating, considering alternatives.

"Yes… I guess," she finally said, dispelling any doubts the professor had in her.

"Take your time, honey," Professor Utonium said. "I know it hasn't been easy for you at all. If it helps, General Blackwater promised to give the three of you a few days to rest. Don't worry your little head over Townsville and its crime problem. Take this time to heal, you deserve it."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**21 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1421.**

"Hello, Bubbles," Bubbles could hear Blossom greet her from a distance away, sounding like she was still at the door. She could only count herself fortunate that her Daddy had laid her head back down on her pillow when he'd gone to receive Blossom. She didn't want to look Blossom in the eyes. Neither did she reply. She didn't dare to, couldn't work up the courage. All she could focus on was the evil she had done for the entirety of last week; the lives she had taken, the drugs she had taken. The close sisterhood and bond she shared with Blossom and even Buttercup that she sacrificed, just so she could get her next kick. She felt incredibly stupid in the end because she had taken those drugs to preserve her close relationship with her sisters in the first place. She knew that compared to her sisters, she was an idiot, and now she had given them every reason to call her that.

"She's still recovering, Blossom," the professor cautioned her in a hushed tone. Bubbles could hear him; it didn't sound like he was trying to keep it from her. "Take it easy on her."

"I like her better that way. She should stay in that table for the rest of her life," Bubbles could hear Buttercup sneer at her.

"Buttercup, what did I tell you?" Dad was practically growling.

"I know, I know. I was just kidding," Buttercup apologized, sort of. Bubbles couldn't remember the last time she did if she ever did. She wasn't even sure if it was sincere if Buttercup was ever sincere about anything.

"Not funny, Buttercup," Blossom chided her, but it was too late. Even though Buttercup was being mean, Bubbles knew that she was justified this time. She had, after all, bashed her head against the floor so hard she was KO'ed and bleeding profusely the last time they met. Knowing this, she tried to keep her crying to herself, but a pathetic whimper escaped her lips regardless.

"I'll leave the three of you alone," the professor said. "I'll be right outside if any of you need me." Bubbles could hear him walking away. She wanted to call out to him to make him stay, but she knew she shouldn't make any demands from now on of anyone, as she had no right to do so after what she had done.

"How are you, Bubbles?" Blossom greeted Bubbles again as she came up to her, close enough to be in Bubbles' sight, but she turned her head away and closed her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Don't look at me…" Bubbles wept as she continued squeezing her eyes shut. Unconsciously, she tried to cover her face with her hands, but they were stuck in their Duranium restraints, and all she could do was strain against them. "Please."

"Bubbles, I'm not mad at you anymore," Blossom said. She caught hold of Bubbles' head with her hands on either side of it so she couldn't look away. However, she was still shutting her eyes.

"I'm ashamed of myself," Bubbles cried. She didn't struggle against Blossom's grip; she couldn't bring herself to disobey Blossom even with such a comparatively minor thing. "Stop looking at me, please. I've hurt everyone who cares about me."

Blossom nodded at Buttercup, who sighed.

"I think you were awesome, Bubbles," Buttercup said with a half-defeated and half-sincere tone. "You were able to beat me over and over. I think you'll be able to do it without the drug."

Buttercup hated this, getting her arm twisted like this. Blossom had threatened to tell Dad about her past misdeeds, and the ammunition Buttercup had against Blossom no longer applied, considering how smeared her image was.

"I know it isn't your fault, Bubbles," Blossom said. "So stop being like this."

Bubbles willed herself to open her eyes, but when she inadvertently made eye contact with Blossom, she squinted her eyes, as if her leader sister was about to hit her. Blossom did have that look after all, what some less-than-subtle people would call that 'demon look'. Her glowing pink eyes had that penetrating stare, and now it was scaring her. Bubbles absolutely dreaded being strapped to the Duranium table, but what she dreaded worse was to be forced to look Blossom in the eyes while she was stuck in it.

"You know about the drugs?" Bubbles said. Something crashed deep down in her. Her secret had finally been exposed. At long last. If she wasn't weeping hard enough just now, she sure was at present.

"Dad told me about it," Blossom said. "He also told me that someone tricked you into using it. Is it true?"

Bubbles squeezed her eyes shut once more. There was so much going on inside her that it was painful - the shame, the fear, the depression. Hopelessness.

"I wanted it because she said it'd help me fight crime," Bubbles admitted. "She said it was the only way I can help you two, and it was the only way I'll ever be loved."

"She? The fairy godmother?" Blossom asked, wondering. It sounded outlandish, coming out of her own mouth. Bubbles nodded in response, as if afraid of uttering that name. She knew for a fact that it was ridiculous right from the start, and it would just make her look insane.

"Seriously? The fairy godmother?" Buttercup retorted; she couldn't believe a single word coming out of Bubbles' mouth. She knew that Bubbles was the dimmest of the three of them, the most naive of them all, but the idea of a fairy godmother in real-life had taken the cake - she couldn't decide if Bubbles was just stupid for accepting help from someone claiming to be a fairy godmother or extremely naive for doing the same.

Blossom's eyes flitted from one corner of the room to the next as she thought about everything, but ultimately, she couldn't gain much in the way of fresh insights. Her mind was back on Bubbles a moment later.

"Here," she said as she held something she had been working on up for Bubbles to see form her restrained position. It was a paper Dandelion, folded and glued together, a project she'd been working on since school. "I thought you'd like it." Blossom gave Buttercup a nudge after that, and Buttercup did the same.

"Yeah, I've got one for you too," she said. Her paper Dandelion, however, was discolored, being shades of orange and green. The only thing more wrong than the color was the shape of the flower. Severely misshapen, it barely qualified as flora.

"They're beautiful," Bubbles said tearfully. She smiled, but her happiness was short-lived. "People are going to hate me, aren't they?"

"You sure, Bubbles?" Blossom said. "Look around you."

Bubbles did. There were tables around her, and those tables held numerous gifts. 'Get well soon' cards, balloons, both of the normal types and the shimmering, reflective types. There were boxes of chocolate, blankets, scarves, embroidery, just to name some of them.

"They understand what you were going through, and they've already forgiven you," Blossom explained. "Even those who, well, weren't really our friends. What do we even call them? Other than our friends' friends, I mean..."

"I'm still afraid to see them…" Bubbles confessed.

"It'll be fine. I'll be there with you if it helps. Our classmates at Pokey Oaks really misses you, you know. They couldn't come see you even though they were screaming for a field trip to visit you - only Miss Keane was here. I've never seen her that upset before," Blossom said, but on realizing that she was rambling, stopped herself. "Get well soon, Bubbles, so you can pick some real Dandelions in exchange for our fake ones."

Blossom and Buttercup laughed. It managed to coax a tearful smile from Bubbles. The professor had been sneaking peeks at them, and smiled, too. Things were returning to normal. Things were finally looking up, and it was something they really needed because the past three days had been hell for the family, not the mention the tense week before that when Bubbles' increasing drug-fueled madness had loomed over them, whether they knew it or not.

And with him finalizing the procedures for creating reinforcement for the Girls, perhaps, just perhaps, the Girls would finally be able to live in peace.


	58. Chapter 52: B-50

**Chapter 52: B-50**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1248.**

Taking in a deep breath, Bubbles stepped out of her room, nervously straightening her shiny blue sequin dress. Blossom was beside her, holding her hand, leading her out. Buttercup, on the other hand, was following up behind. She found the whole situation annoying - she just wanted to get to the food because she was starving! Why the whole ritual?

Together, the Girls went down the corridor on the second floor to the stairs. Below, a whole group of people was looking up at them. For security, Agent Blake and his men were 'guarding' the House, though, in reality, all they were really doing was to attend a party. Dad and Mom were there, too, of course. After all, it was the Powerpuff Girls' third month's birthday. Alice was there - she had to be. She had decided to double their sessions, starting with today, after the party. Miss Keane was in the group, too - and she, too, was worried about the Girls, since they were absent from class most of the time. Mister Morbucks and the Princess, Elodie Morbucks, were given special civilian clearance to attend the party. Similarly, the TPD was represented by Mister Mullens and Olivia. Stanley Talker sat beside then, his tongue hanging out. Like Buttercup, he couldn't wait to get to the food. General Blackwater was there, too - he had his own reasons.

As the Girls descended, the entire group - well, most of them, anyway - began singing them a birthday song. A huge cake was unveiled, and they were led into the kitchen. The House was still under repair, but with the Chief of Logistics' impressive ability to expedite anything, it was already mostly pristine, though there were still some bullet holes that needed to be filled.

While they were in the kitchen, numerous photos were taken. Everyone - well, almost everyone - wanted a shot with the Girls.

"Time to make a wish!" Professor Utonium exclaimed with excitement as the Girls sat in front of their cake, each of them smiling for their own reasons. One after another, the Girls closed their eyes and made their wishes. They blew out the candles on the cake after that.

'What did you wish for?' Blossom would ask her sisters after the party.

'I just… want it all to go away. The crime, the pain, the sadness. What I did,' Bubbles would say, flashing a smile, though it was a shallow, bitter one, one mired by muck that had been piling up and needed a way to be unloaded.

'Don't be sad, Bubbles. They will. They always did. That's what Daddy said,' Blossom comforted her sister.

'I wanted my own motorbike,' Buttercup admitted. Both Blossom and even a depressed Bubbles gave her a puzzled look. What use would a motorcycle be if they could fly? 'Hey, it'd be cool, admit it!'

'I guess it is,' Blossom admitted, managing to dig a smile out of Buttercup. Blossom smiled back. 'We should all get one.'

'Told you so,' Buttercup said with a burst of mean laughter.

'What about you, Blossom?' Bubbles would ask in return, hoping for some kind of enlightenment from her. 'What did you wish for?'

Blossom said nothing. She communicated the content of her wish by putting an arm around each other her sisters and pulling them into a group hug.

'Oh brother,' Buttercup would say, hating that the very same person who'd been undermining her was hugging her, somehow still attached to her.

'This,' Blossom simply said.

* * *

**Lab Report 02221989**

**DOC: 22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989.**

**TOC: 0830**

**By: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Concerning Bubbles (B-49) and Creation of B-50**

As of this date, Bubbles has made full recovery from the wounds she had sustained on 19 FEB 1989. However, it is merely physical. The implications of the incident that caused her to attack everyone around her, without discrimination, is severe and disturbing.

Even as we speak, as you know, investigations have turned up nothing as to who might have supplied Bubbles with the drugs known as 'His Secret 2.0'. My sources, Lieutenant Blake of the Powerpuff Task Force and Lieutenant Mullens of the TPD, have no real news to share. I have spoken to her at length about this, but she has revealed little about what she experienced. She claims that a 'fairy godmother' had provided her with the drugs, a being capable of even greater enhanced abilities and powers than her, but I have consulted with security as to the possible identity of this enhanced individual and turned up nothing. It's possible that she was hallucinating this 'fairy godmother' into existence, and it was little more than a drug pusher who tricked her into using it. I will turn my attention to that which is in my area of expertise, rather than speculating.

The toll on Bubbles is enormous, and whether it is surmountable is hard to say. The Chemical-Y assisted drug had accumulated in her, and even with time and the experimental treatment I have devised with my Anti-X, it will be months, perhaps even years, before the drug could be fully eliminated from her system. Needless to say, the staying power of the drug is unprecedented; mundane drugs do not accumulate this way in the human body. It does not help that Bubbles will need to inject herself with the less harmful 'His Secret' from now on to manage the withdrawal effects of 'His Secret 2.0'. I guess there is a hidden benefit to Buttercup's trophy hoarding after all. Her secret stash should last Bubbles a few months, by which time, I hope Bubbles will no longer need the damn chemicals.

While 'His Secret' will not cause Bubbles to backslide in any way, it will slow down the detoxification process. I can't imagine how she's been taking it either. Even as I write this, I have been keeping her close to me; I have no choice but to get her to play on the lab floor. Her depressed, vacant look can only be a symptom of the psychological aspect of all this. Alice will have a full report on that.

I would like to emphasize again that the trio you have named 'The Powerpuff Girls' should no longer be deployed the way they are. I believe you have received my report on Buttercup's behavioral deviancy on 21 FEB 1989 and my write-up on the implications of her mental difficulties. I think it is clear by now that they have to be substituted with something better. A new Powerpuff Girl, if you will.

This leads me to the next topic of this report.

I believe I am now ready to begin the production of subject B-50. Over the past 4 days, I have been able to work my way up towards creating an enhanced human being by going through the usual gauntlet of organism modifications: the testing of Chemical X2 on plants, and animals. All test subjects are stable, but all but one guinea pigs used for the experiments had to be destroyed due to their enhancements. The last guinea pig will be kept in a Duranium cage for observation.

There will still be numerous unknown factors, however. Due to the short time frame given, I have been unable to eliminate them all, only minimize them. That said, it is not helpful that more of them have been introduced for the sake of confidentiality.

The unknown nature of the DNA source, for instance. I would rather that I personally select the DNA to be used, to eliminate any chance for congenital diseases. We have already seen the effects of poor genetics on Buttercup and we do not need a repeat of that again.

Furthermore, the sample provided is questionable. I required stem cells, not a human zygote produced by in-vitro fertilization. That the sample provided is a zygote raises many questions. Why must we create an entirely new DNA strain (albeit with the DNA of two donors - unknown donors, I might add) rather than use an existing one which will be more predictable? There is no telling what the results will be. Therefore, I would like to state for the record that I claim no responsibility for the failure of B-50's production arising from the use of the sample provided.

Only time will tell now how B-50 will turn out. I can only hope that I can use it as a surprise for Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's 3rd month birthday. I had promised them that I had a way out for them - Bubbles, especially, needed some kind of hope that she could live a normal life as a normal little girl. Judging by how she had just been tricked into drug abuse, I believe her fears are justified. B-50 will likely uplift their moods.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 0845.**

"Are you ready, Professor Utonium?" Doctor Vanum asked his esteemed colleague as he and several others crowded around a table, which had been designated the workspace for the creation of B-50, the next stage in the evolution of Project Powerpuff.

The professor nodded. He tried to maintain a calm demeanor on the outside, but he was a flaming pile of wreck on the inside. Three months ago, he had opened Pandora's box, and while he had found a new family to love because of it, there were problems. Although much of the uncertainties had been eliminated with their present experiments, there were new ones that had been introduced.

For example, he knew of one that was in himself. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were created by accident, but he had taken them in as his own. It was love at first sight. B-50, on the other hand…

He wanted to create B-50 to protect his adopted daughters, and he knew what that entailed. He wanted B-50 to take the pain and suffering and abuse away from them, to fight crime so they didn't have to. If he was honest with himself, he wouldn't want to adopt B-50 if he had a choice; instead, he'd decided that he would distance himself from it. That was all 'it' was to him, a tool to protect his family.

"Are you sure, professor?" one of the research assistants asked - an old hand, an intellectual in her own right, just one who wasn't as accomplished to rise through the ranks yet.

"Yes, let's begin," the professor said, trying to sound as professional as possible, both for the record and for himself.

"Wouldn't the Girls see what we're doing?" the other research assistant wondered aloud.

"Selicia's been keeping them busy. There's going to be a party later, one that I hope would distract them as much as lift their spirits and lighten them up," the professor said, his eyes a little blank, focusing on the task at hand, a task which he knew that was motivated but intentions that were less than moral. "Thank God that Wiggums was able to repair the airlock last afternoon. I've sealed it up and told them I have a surprise in the lab tonight."

"Alright, let's get to work, people," Doctor Vanum said, and so they started the production of B-50. One of the research assistants began positioning a microscope over the sample for observation. Another began setting up a station for managing the rapid growth of the zygote into what the professor hoped would be the Girls' crime-fighting replacement. The professor and the doctor began setting up equipment for preparing Chemical X2 and dispensing it.

* * *

**File 79: Production of Subject B-50**

**DOC: 22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989.**

**Created by: Senior Clerk Quixote (Codename)**

Background: Due to the underperformance of subjects B-47, B-48 and B-49 and problems posed by the accidentally-created prototypes, losses suffered and an increase in crime in Townsville, a new organic weapons platform, or bioweapon, has been commissioned by Director Cliff. Unlike the prototypes B-47, B-48 and B-49, which were created by accident using an incomplete version of Chemical X2, known as Chemical X, B-50's creation was premeditated and done so through the use of Chemical X2.

Note on Chemical X2: The substance to be used for enhancement of the individual is known as Chemical X2. According to its creator, Professor Utonium, it will offer enhancements to the bioweapon that are superior to the prototypes. Projections based on plant and animal experiments predict up to a 50% improvement in all areas. Experiments also yielded the foresight that the bioweapon B-50 will be able to gain access to enhancements and abilities faster, though the improvement in this regard hasn't been quantified. It is also likely that B-50 will be able to gain abilities B-47, B-48 and B-49 are incapable of.

Timeline of events.

Time 0915: B-50 Zygote has grown rapidly to become visible.

Time 0949: B-50 is now a week 6 fetus. Professor Utonium notes that B-50 is growing faster than B-47, B-48, and B-49.

Time 1009: Week 8 equivalent fetus. The subject is healthy thus far.

Time 1026: Week 10 equivalent fetus.

Time 1048: Week 12 equivalent fetus. A genetic sample was taken for testing.

Time 1112: Week 16 equivalent fetus. Growth appears to be accelerating as expected based on data from B-47, B-48, and B-49 growth pattern.

Time 1125: Week 20 equivalent fetus.

Time 1140: Week 24 equivalent fetus.

Time 1156: Week 36 equivalent fetus. Growth of B-50 exponentially increasing.

Time 1210: Subject B-50 is now a fully grown baby equivalent to at birth. Blood, cell and hair samples were taken for testing. The subject is observed to have brown hair, purple glowing eyes, and crooked teeth, but is otherwise healthy. Subject has begun crying, likely requiring sustenance and natal care.

Time 1211: After much convincing (and coercion from General Blackwater, who had taken leave from B-47, B-48 and B-49's welfare event and arrived to witness the creation of the fourth bioweapon), Sergeant Selicia Goodwin, assigned secondary handler of Project Powerpuff subjects, has agreed to breastfeed subject B-50. Selicia and subject B-50 closely monitored for aberrations in life signs.

Time 1239: Subject B-50 observed to be growing in size rapidly whilst obtaining sustenance from Sergeant Selicia Goodwin.

Time 1245: Subject B-50 ceases feeding and appears to have fallen asleep. Due to B-47, B-48 and B-49's welfare event approaching its main segment, Professor Utonium, and Sergeant Selicia Goodwin have to temporarily stop work on B-50 to attend it. Subject B-50 has been put under the care of the professor's associates and under guard by the security sergeant's colleagues.

Time 1259: Subject B-50 equivalent of a 6-month-old baby.

Time 1314: Subject B-50 equivalent of a 1-year-old baby.

Time 1327: Subject B-50 equivalent of a 2-year-old baby.

TIme 1340: Professor Utonium and Sergeant Selicia Goodwin were able to extricate themselves from B-47, B-48 and B-49's demand for attention. Their work on B-50 resumes.

Time 1342: Subject B-50 equivalent of a 3-year-old baby.

Time 1357: Subject B-50 equivalent of a 4-year-old. Accelerated growth expected to slow down and cease within the next half-hour.

Time 1413: Subject B-50 equivalent of 5-year-old.

Time 1427: Subject B-50 did not stop growing as predicted by growth models drawn up by B-47, B-48 and B-49's data. B-50 equivalent of a 6-year-old.

Time 1442: Subject B-50 equivalent of 7-year-old.

Time 1453: Subject B-50 equivalent of 8-year-old. Accelerated aging appears to be slowing down.

Time 1458. B-50's growth appears to have stopped. The subject has discharged some energy, purple in appearance, resulting in a temporary power outage.

Time 1459: Subject B-50 has stopped breathing. This was anticipated by Professor Utonium. The professor opts to observe the subject first; he will only intervene at the 3-minute mark. ECG reading erratic.

Time 1501: B-50 has resumed breathing. Brainwave pattern normalizing, but minimal and resembling sleep. ECG readings nominal. The experiment to create B-50 has been deemed a success.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1902.**

It was almost time; the party was long over and the last of the guests, including those closest to the Girls, had left.

But there was never enough time for him, Professor Utonium. Or more specifically, there wasn't enough time for him to think things through; to think about how he should treat B-50, or how his family should.

Sitting beside B-50, who was lying on a table, a cushion beneath her newly-created head, he was racking his brains over it, and yet, even after hours, he still couldn't resolve the bloody conflict within him.

And for the hours he'd spent thinking about it, he had to resist holding B-50's hand, or to stroke her cheek in affection. It couldn't be this way, he had decided at the beginning of the experiment to produce her, the organic weapon platform, or bioweapon, that was meant to deliver his daughters from the soul-crushing struggles and demands of crime-fighting. He was supposed to maintain a distance from her. His family was supposed to maintain a distance from her.

And yet… Yes, B-50 was female too. She was created a brunette, somehow physically an 8-year-old – the Girls would surely be jealous, and perhaps that would be good – though she wasn't as beautiful as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, with her overly-square jaws, crooked teeth and plain look. Her eyes were the only features on her face that stood out as beautiful – that said, he couldn't help but notice it when he saw it when B-50 was conscious as a baby on Selicia's bosom. Their eyes met. Her beautiful, glowing purple eyes stood out with intelligence and curiosity in them, perhaps rivaling or even surpassing Blossom – and that could be a good thing as it could foment resentment between them. But... Oh, how she looked at him until she fell unconscious again as if awaiting his decision! But it couldn't be that way. He couldn't allow himself to love her and take her in as his own, could he? That would defeat the purpose of creating her in the first place!

And yet… Professor Utonium stood up from a chair next to B-50. Looking around at a guard, he noticed the way he was looking at him.

"I'm just going to examine her," he found himself a pretense before leaning over B-50 and opening her eyelid. An eye with a glowing, purple pupil gleamed back at him. He went through the motions and shined a penlight into her eye briefly. The guard was none the wiser.

No, he decided. He couldn't do it. He couldn't just leave B-50 be and toss her out in the storm just to save his daughters' skin. How could he even consider that? He hated himself for it for even considering such a heinous and selfish thing. Dooming a kid to a lifetime of child soldiering (an immortal's lifetime at that, if his theory holds true) just so his own didn't have to suffer the same fate… No, it wasn't him. He didn't want to be that person.

He clasped B-50's hand in both his own, before raising it up to his lips and kissing it. Her hand was limp, and even then, it felt strong. It was another thing he noticed - B-50's musculature was already hard and somewhat beefy.

"Is that wise, prof?" the guard said, looking tense. The professor couldn't blame him. After Bubbles' outburst with His Secret, he would be surprised if the guard wasn't afraid.

The professor turned to look at him.

"Yes, yes it is," he said. "Could you call my family down?"

"Yes, sir," the guard said. "My buds here will cover you while I'm away."

"You and your buds are dismissed," the professor simply said. "And before you ask, yes, it's the wise thing to do." But before the guard could run off, the professor added another layer of complexity to his task: "One more thing. I want you to get Bubbles to come down alone first. Hold everyone back until I say otherwise."

With that, the guard and his detail left the professor alone. His associates in the research department were already gone about an hour ago.

It was time.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 1905.**

Bubbles was terrified as if she was struck with yet another visit by the fairy godmother. A PTF soldier had told her to go down to the lab. Alone. The soldier himself, though even-tempered, was a stranger, and he had come into the Girls' room without knocking or greetings.

Blossom, Bubbles and even Buttercup (reluctantly) were pretending to be farmers or ranchers when he entered. Blossom frowned at the man for being rude, while Buttercup was relieved and glad for any pause in the 'playtime' whenever she could get it. Bubbles on the other hand…

She had to fly out of the room and down to the living room with only a rabbit soft toy for company – the soldier explicitly stated that she had to go down alone – but as she crossed the airlock, old memories were resurfacing. Bad memories of her doing unthinkable things.

Why would Dad want her down alone? She knew about Buttercup, how she had lost her powers for a couple of days when Dad got mad at her. Was that what's going to happen to her?

She could almost hear her heartbeat echoing against the walls as she descended the stairs down to the lab. She knew that her entire family had forgiven her, but then Blossom and Buttercup were punished whenever they had erred too seriously. Was it her turn to get punished?

Bubbles was almost reduced to tears by the time she reached the wide-open space of the lab until she was met with a most peculiar sight.

Her Dad was sitting in a chair by a bed, holding the hand of… someone lying in the recovery bed at the medical section of the lab. Flying closer, her previous fears forgotten, she went sideways for a better look.

That someone was a girl, and she looked older than she was. She had brown hair, and she was wearing a patient's garb. She looked like she was asleep. Bubbles didn't have time to study the new girl when her Dad noticed her.

"Bubbles!" he greeted her and beckoned her to come closer, which she did by floating up to him.

"What's happening, Dad?" she said, confused, and still a little frightened partly because of the new development. 'Who is that girl?' Bubbles thought. 'What is she doing here?' At the same time, another awful thought struck her. Something Mom warned her about when they were alone in the Duranium table room, though unbeknownst to her, she was just joking and at the same time, trying to keep her in line.

"Dad, is she replacing me?" Bubbles asked frantically, on the verge of tears again. "Please don't send me away… I'll be good, I promise!"

"Bubbles, I would never!" the Dad reassured her quickly, hugging her to him and she floated into his arms. "Who gave you that idea?"

Bubbles didn't say. It felt like one of those times when she needed to shut her mouth 'or you'll destroy the family', in Mom's words. She had already come too close to destroying the family physically. She didn't want to come anywhere close to that again.

Dad cleared his throat before continuing: "Anyway, today's your lucky day, Bubbles."

"Lucky? Why am I lucky, Dad?" Bubbles asked. His words didn't help with her confusion, though as it always did, it'd calmed her down. At least she knew now that she was wrong to think she would be replaced.

"You get to see your new sister," Professor Utonium announced. It wasn't his original intention to make B-50 Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's new sister, but he had decided. His initial intention to make B-50 their 'bodyguard' had been rooted in his flawed idea to protect the Girls from further harm, be they physical, emotional or psychological, by sacrificing someone else.

"But why me?" Bubbles asked. She felt like she would be the last person to receive any kind of special treatment. The professor hugged her tighter when he picked up her doubts.

"I've… neglected you," the professor admitted sadly. "It's all my fault, what happened to you."

"But it's not…" Bubbles said. She, in turn, noticed that Dad was upset and she didn't like that.

The professor sighed.

"It doesn't matter, as Doctor Simmons said," he swiftly redirected the conversation; it was supposed to be a moment of joy. He turned around to let Bubbles see her new sister, and the enhanced little girl studied her.

And even Bubbles could tell that B-50 wasn't exactly good-looking, though she wasn't ugly either, but somewhere in between.

"How… did she get here?" Bubbles asked. She remembered being in the living room all day. What she didn't remember was an 8-year-old girl sneaking into the lab because she would have to go through the living room.

"Remember when I said that there will be a surprise? She's it," the professor said, though he was also stalling for time to think. He hadn't thought about it, explaining B-50 away. Had it been Blossom in Bubbles' place, she would have asked how B-50 was born. It was a mystery that needed to be nipped in the bud in order to preserve the beautiful illusion of a family they had here. Pushing away any self-doubt, the professor continued: "Mom gave birth to your new sister this morning. We've been checking her and taking care of her since. But I think she's ready now… For the three of you to meet her."

It wasn't the perfect explanation, but the Girls' naivety and lack of understanding in sexual reproduction would make it good for years to come until they were ready to know the truth – whenever that would be.

"What's her name?" Bubbles asked innocently, partially distracted by B-50. She couldn't take her eyes off her. In her mind, she meant something, symbolized something – she just couldn't tell what it was yet.

"Why don't you decide, Bubbles?" the professor said. It felt like the perfect apology and gift for neglecting her. "There's just one rule."

"What is it?" Bubbles asked, her spirit lifting. She got to name her own sister!

"It has to start with a B, like Blossom and Buttercup… and Bubbles," the professor stated and pressed Bubbles in the nose playfully. She giggled.

"Okay…" Bubbles said before looking around the room, thinking and straining her mind for a name that started with a B, squeezing her soft toy as she did. The professor was actually worried for her as she looked like she might blow her engine that way.

Bubbles' eyes shifted to B-50 herself as if her name was written there. It wasn't. Out of options, she held her rabbit soft toy in both hands as if it could talk to it.

That was when it hit her, like that semi-truck on Highway 13, except in a good way.

"Bunny…" Bubbles spoke B-50's name for the first time.

The professor was stunned. He'd never expected it out of Bubbles. It was like a miracle in and of itself. He thought that it was even better than his own ideas, such as Bernadette or Bess. He'd even thought about naming B-50 after his own late biological daughter, Bloome.

"It's a beautiful name," the professor said, before giving Bubbles a peck on the temple. When Bubbles tried to wriggle out of his arms, he let her go. Floating over to the sleeping Bunny on the table, she placed the rabbit soft toy on her chest and put her arm over it, such that she looked like she was just sleeping…

"Bunny it is," the professor said, and this time around, he believed that things were going to get better…

Now that Bunny had joined the family.

**END OF ACT 2: HIS SECRET**

* * *

**A/N: Due to the nature of the works-in-progress of the next cover, there will be no preview of it. However, the cover will still be available as per normal when the next act comes around. Thanks for reading!**


	59. Chapter 53: First Day (ACT 3)

**(To view the artwork/cover page for Act 3, go to the Archive of Our Own version of this fanfic and the same chapter)**

* * *

**ACT 3: DOWN THE BUNNY HOLE**

**"The duty of youth is to challenge corruption." - Kurt Cobain**

* * *

**Chapter 53: First Day**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 2024.**

"You ready, Bubbles?" Selicia asked one of the Powerpuff Girls. They were in the lab, going for a quick round of training before bedtime. She thought it necessary after the Girls had been deactivated for three days. They would be back to saving the day by next light. "Is your neck okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom. It just feels funny…" Bubbles simply said. She stood before Blossom, putting up a defensive posture.

"Blossom?" Selicia turned to the leader of the Powerpuff Girls.

"I'm ready, Mom," she said.

"Alright, go right ahead, Girls, you know the rules," Selicia flagged off the first match between Blossom and Bubbles.

Blossom charged ahead and went for a sweeping low kick. Bubbles jumped and avoided getting tripped, only to realize that Blossom had followed up with a rising spinning kick aimed at her head, but she leaned back, feeling wind as Blossom's foot passed by within an inch of her face. She fell back a few feet, adjusting her posture.

Blossom found it surprising enough that Bubbles could avoid her strikes so deftly. Previously, before the whole mess with her using His Secret 2.0 that is, Bubbles couldn't even begin to predict where she would attack next.

There was something different about Bubbles now. Something had changed ever since she was detoxified (somewhat), ever since the 'fairy godmother', whoever that was, had tricked her into a cycle of addiction to the chemical.

She was much more focused and less afraid of fighting. Bubbles herself knew it, and she knew very well what she had to do now. She just knew she had to be stronger, and this time, it wasn't hard to be. She was angry. Very angry. She was mad that she had been taken advantage of and tricked into destroying her own family, and she nearly did. Though she was nothing like her drug-fuelled BerXerker self, her anger had given her enough to stave off her cowardly tendencies.

And Blossom felt it becoming manifest when Bubbles began dishing out a flurry of punches at her, such that she could barely keep up with her blocks and redirections.

Bubbles was fast! And when Blossom tried to break her hold on her with a sidekick, she jumped away, spinning in mid-air before landing a yard or two away gracefully.

"That was good, Bubbles!" Blossom praised her. But something was wrong. It was as if Bubbles didn't hear it. Jumping straight in, she reopened her attack with a flying kick, which Blossom blocked, and Bubbles didn't let up after that, giving her one whump after another with her fists, lightning-quick until-

Blossom stumbled back when she took one in the face, holding it with both her hands. Bubbles froze when she saw what she did, the anger on her face dissipated, replaced by shock.

The professor, who was watching, ran forward to check on Blossom.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Bubbles exclaimed as tears threatened to burst from her eyes.

Blossom removed her hands from her nose. They were red, though there wasn't a lot of blood.

"I'm fine, I'm fine…" Blossom said as her hands had returned to her nose, muffling her voice. Bubbles, however, had sunk to the floor, crying shrilly. The professor had produced a handkerchief to wipe the blood away.

"Your eyes weren't red, Bubbles," the professor said. "That's good. It means you're making steady recovery from the drug."

"But I've hurt Blossom!" Bubbles cried on the floor.

"I'm fine, really," Blossom said. "See?" she removed her hands. Most of the blood was gone. There were no visible wounds. "Besides, you were really awesome!" she turned to Buttercup on the sideline. "Right!?"

"Right!" Buttercup shouted back with a fake smile, and she had to try really hard not to let any bitterness show through. She still didn't like that things had returned to normal, but with her getting the short end of the stick – with all her secrets exposed, whatever bargaining power she had gone, and her every move watched as if she was a maximum-security prisoner. It was unfair – Bubbles didn't get the same level of treatment even though she had done more damage!

"This is just the first time you're fighting in a real match," Selicia explained as she came forward, with a smile on her face, though she was happy for different reasons. With Bubbles miraculously pulling through and getting her attitude fixed to boot, her job was about to get easier. "You just need to hold back now that you're a force to be reckoned with."

Bubbles liked the sound of that. 'A force to be reckoned with'.

"Come on, Bubbles, let's try again," Blossom offered as she extended a hand for Bubbles to take. Smiling up at her, she gladly took it. It was a nice change of tone from before, and it was worth holding onto. For months, she had struggled for acceptance. Now, it seemed she had found it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**22 FEB (Wednesday) 1989. 2205.**

As Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup returned to their room after a trip to the washroom to keep their teeth white, they saw Bunny again, still unconscious, still motionless right in the center of their bed, dressed only in flexible diapers and patient garb meant for adults, the rabbit soft toy Bubbles had given her nestling between her arm and side. Dad and Mom were right behind them.

The Girls clambered into bed, with Blossom and Bubbles taking the spots on either side of Bunny, each hugging an arm like a bolster. Buttercup was fine staying far away from Bunny. It was just what she needed - more competition, more eyes to watch her and another mouth to tattle on her.

"Isn't that sweet? They love Bunny already," Dad said as he gave Mom, who was in his arm, a peck on the lips. He thought that the Girls were angels because of this - Bunny had little going for her - she was plain in physical appearance, she was their junior and she knew nothing - she wasn't even awake yet, and she wouldn't be able to take over the Girls until weeks later, assuming that Bunny learn at the same rate as her elder sisters. That Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup would take her in without reservation, without condition, was endearing.

* * *

"Such a shame, my dear… I had such high hopes for you," Bubbles heard a ghoulish voice speaking in the dark. She lit up her eyes, but there was nothing to illuminate – just a claustrophobic void that extended to infinity. She couldn't decide if the voice was male or female. But she knew who it was.

"Miss Fairy Godmother?" Bubbles said. Breathing felt difficult then as if one wrong move could result in some dire consequence.

"I think we're past that by now…" the voice said, and it had gotten eerier. It sounded as if it was coming from all around her, but she couldn't determine where.

"Please don't hurt me…" Bubbles murmured, her voice low and hoarse. If there was air in this void, it was incredibly dry – her throat felt like it was on fire.

"Hurt you? Oh no, I don't want to hurt you… yes… yes… well, not really, anyway," the voice said. "You were doing so well, after all… You are one-of-a-kind. After all, you did get past everyone you know and don't. Leaving them… crushed."

All Bubbles knew was that there was a floor. But soon, it became an easy thing to confirm as flames, roaring and aggressive, shot up from all around her, surrounding her. She could see a figure in the distance, though he… or she… or it was too far for most of the light to reach him… or her.

"W-who are you!?" Bubbles screamed. She could make out enough to see that whatever it was in the distance, it had its back turned to her. And it was tall. And the legs – those legs sheathed in leather boots. She thought she had seen them somewhere before.

The figure turned to squint at her sideways - though she could not see its face, she could see that it wasn't human. The chin was too long and pointy, and so were the ears. Eyes shining redder than the hellish red of her BerXerker self stared at her, looking deep into her soul.

"Who am I? Why… I'm the same as you… Yes…" the figure claimed, and though Bubbles didn't know what to make of it, it'd sent a chill down her spine. The thing in leather high-heeled boots raised an arm and clenched a fist - Bubbles didn't notice its arms and hands only because it was camouflaged against the sheer terror the geometry of the thing's body presented. But the figure's arm was just as terrible to behold once she noticed it. Those arms were wiry, but they ended with what appeared to be crab claws, and when it opened up its claws, fingers formed from the otherwise rigid crab claws, each like the steel fingers of an armored knight's gauntlet. "I'm family."

"N-no…" Bubbles uttered. The monster started forward, and as it got closer, Bubbles could see it in greater and greater clarity, clarity that was unwanted. It was wearing some kind of red jacket with a white fur collar. The jacket transitioned seamlessly into some kind of skirt covered in white fuzz similar to the collar, held together by a massive black buckle. It was incredibly muscular, oozing danger from its aura and some kind of black substance from its mouth.

The fire parted to let the monster through. Bubbles worked up a charge in her eyes and fired an ion beam at him - or her, but some kind of red bubbles blocked out the beam, causing it to do nothing. Next, she tried sonic-screaming at him, but the creature didn't seem to mind the kinetic waves and drowning noise from her voice, all while coming towards her, closer.

When she tried to fly away, the 'fairy godmother' snatched her up, its gauntlet-like fingers pressing her throat so strongly that she could barely breathe. Bubbles tried to scream, but she could not. The monster placed a rigid finger-claw on her lips.

"Shh… Don't be afraid… After all, we are family…" it said as it ran its claws down her cheek while she sniveled and wept. "We'll see each other again soon enough… yes… yes… I won't be away for long… But for now, TA-TA!"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 0641.**

Bubbles' eyes flitted open after her conversation with whatever it was that the fairy godmother had turned into. The last thing she saw in her nightmare was the fiery, hellish red eyes of the thing, and when she woke up, this was replaced by a pair of eyes, glowing purple, staring down at her.

The scream that came out of Bubbles' mouth next woke up the entire family.

Buttercup and Blossom practically flew out of bed the moment they heard it, with Buttercup halfway to their armory in the walk-in closet. Blossom was the first person to notice that the three of them weren't the only ones awake.

"Bunny! You're up!" Blossom exclaimed gleefully while Bubbles was still trying to find her wits. Bunny had been on all fours, pressing her face close to Bubbles when she woke up. She went into a kneeling position and turned to look at Blossom with an innocent smile on her face. Upon seeing that Blossom was flying, she giggled and clapped her hands in an infantile manner as if she had just performed a magic trick, exposing her crooked teeth.

"Should've called her Braces," Buttercup said on noticing it. "Even Katie's teeth didn't look that bad!"

Bunny whirled around to look at Buttercup, none the wiser about the meaning of the sounds coming out of Buttercup's mouth. She flashed a smile at her, exposing her teeth again, and giggled when she saw that Buttercup was floating too.

"Buttercup! Don't be rude! She's our little sister!" Blossom chastised her wayward sister.

"She's huge…" Bubbles commented. Bunny's size was hard to judge when she was unconscious and lying on her back, covered in ill-fitting clothes and a blanket most of the time. Now that she was up and about, her size had shown more clearly. Tall even by eight-year-old standards, she out-sized all of her elder siblings by more than a head, then there was the fact that she was physically older than them.

As it did many times, rapid footsteps grew louder outside, and the door was opened, with both Mom and Dad standing there. Curiously, Mom was holding an XM9 sniper rifle in one hand but hid it quickly on noticing that no one was getting torn limb from limb.

Bunny turned to Professor Utonium and Selicia with saliva dribbling down the side of her lips, squealing in delight when more wonders of the world had come to greet her. She greeted them back with babyish gibberish, her voice deeper than the average little girl.

"Girls, why don't the three of you take a bath while Mom and I take care of Bunny?" the professor said unexpectedly.

"Aren't you going to help us?" Blossom asked. He had never asked the Girls to bathe on their own before.

"I'm sure the three of you will manage on your own as long as you help each other," the professor explained absent-mindedly, without taking his eyes off Bunny. A boyish smile was spreading on his face. Oddly enough, despite everything that had happened, he seemed more energetic than depleted. "I've got to give our little rabbit here a tour of The House… and… and… her first meal too! Oh, what would it be? She's got to learn everything too – words, walking, using the toilet, everything! Just like how the three of you did before!"

"I think Bunny's going to need more help than the three of you," Selicia added. "Don't be selfish. Do you three remember General Blackwater's latest standing order?"

"The Powerpuff Girls are to be combat-ready 24/7 from the 23rd of February onwards," Blossom quoted directly from the source.

"Do you know what that means?" Selicia quizzed the smartest of the three.

"No…" Blossom admitted.

"The three of you are going to wear your uniforms and gear everywhere you go from now on, except when you're in bed. Now go," Selicia explained before pointing to the door.

"Okay…" the three Girls said in unison, before each of them floated into the walk-in closet one after another, then emerging from it with a mountain of stuff to put on - uniforms, boots, armor, and weapons. They left the room, still upset that their morning ritual had been affected.

Bunny could only stare after them, confused to the point where she wasn't sure what to be confused about - with nothing but whatever mother nature had programmed into her, there was so much she couldn't figure out, or at least not yet. She couldn't even understand how her sisters had disappeared through the door.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 0705.**

The Girls took their time bathing. Part of it had something to do with the absence of Dad, and it wasn't just because they couldn't bathe themselves as well as Dad could do it. The morning ritual was important to them - they got to get cleaned up, say hi to Dad and Mom in the morning and enjoy their company right from the get-go.

Even when they were done and out of the bathroom, Dad and Mom were still somewhere else, spirited away by Bunny. They had to actually form a search party to find them, and as it turned out, they were still in the middle of bathing Bunny back in the washroom of the master bedroom. They could hear laughter all the way from the bedroom door. The parents and the new sister were taking their time, splashing water about, teaching and learning new words respectively at the same time and generally having fun.

All the Girls could do was wait at the dining table. Blossom could hear her stomach growling while Bubbles was getting a little sweaty and jittery from the remnants of her withdrawal symptoms - Dad was supposed to give her the day's 'withdrawal medication'. Buttercup was annoying the both of them by drumming the surface of the table with her fingers as she was leaning on it, letting them know with too much clarity that time was ticking by one slow second at a time, and to children merely three months old and as intelligent as kids many times older, time would pass by very slowly.

Five minutes passed, then ten minutes. It was only way past that, that Dad, Mom, and Bunny emerged out of the master bedroom. As they were descending the stairs, the Girls saw them - Bunny was squealing with delight at descending the stairs, wearing one of Mom's security T-shirts like a dress and a diaper like an underpants, cradled in Dad's arm as he swung her around to coax some giggles out of her.

The Girls, each for their own reasons not dissimilar to one another's, couldn't help but be envious of Bunny. When was the last time Dad had done that with them?

"Whoops, sorry to keep you Girls waiting," Dad said when he finally noticed them. "Bunny's been having lots of fun, as you can see, learning about… everything, really!"

Blossom tried her best to smile genuinely, tried her best to be happy for Bunny.

"It's fine, Dad, I'm glad Bunny's having fun," Blossom said, and meant it - just that it was hard to be virtuous when she was starved not just of food but also of Dad's company.

"Can we eat now? I'm starving to death!" Buttercup yelled, which attracted a glare from Mom, and she backed down quickly.

"Come now, Buttercup, don't be selfish! You won't starve to death until weeks later," she lectured Buttercup when she had just reached the foot of the stairs ahead of Dad and was crossing the living room. It was upsetting to the tomboy. Before her trophies were discovered, she was would never be cross with her, much less scold her or lay a finger on her. "Besides, I'm working on it, heaven's sake!"

"Dad, I need my needle now," Bubbles said whilst shaking a little. Though the symptoms she had to bear with weren't as bad as before, it was still unpleasant, and she didn't want to be reminded of her past mistakes.

"Coming, honey," the professor had just reached the living room with Bunny on his shoulder, who stared all around her in awe of the wider world. Professor Utonium laughed. "She's heavy!"

He came up next to Bubbles, and instructed her to reach into his lab coat pocket, which she did. There was nothing in it at first, and she had to reach into another of his pocket to finally find it. It'd worsened her anticipation for relief. Putting down Bunny in her seat, the professor knelt down beside Bubbles to assist her when he noticed how shaky her hands were.

"Just a quarter every half a day, Bubbles, here," he said as he took the syringe of 'His Secret' from her before knocking the vial and pushing the plunger slightly. "Maybe I should repackage the… medication to make it easier for you."

"Dad?" Bubbles said while he was removing a plastic sheath from the needle and aiming to stick it into her forearm.

"Hmm?"

"Will you still spend some time with us?" Bubbles struggled to put her question into words. It wasn't something she thought she could lose until Bunny came along.

"Don't be silly, honey - of course I will," the Dad said. "It's just with the four of you, I can't do it as often for each of you. But I promise I will."

Breakfast, however, was spent with all attention put on Bunny. Not only that, Selicia had cooked in bulk to save time, and so everyone had to eat porridge, just like Bunny. When it came time for the older trio to be driven to school, Professor Utonium had opted to stay behind with Bunny instead, putting Selicia behind the wheels. Only Buttercup seemed especially thrilled that Mom was driving them instead while her sisters… less so.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 0815.**

"Thanks, Mom!" Blossom said before opening the car door and jumping out.

"Yeah, thanks, Mom!" Bubbles mimicked, but when she and Buttercup were about to open the door, Selicia pulled Bubbles' hand away from the handle roughly.

"Blossom, why don't you go ahead. I need to have a talk with Buttercup and Bubbles here," Selicia said, sounding too serious for it to just be a conversation she was about to have with her sisters. Blossom knew what it meant. A talk with Mom was just rarely a talk. Come to think of it, it didn't seem like an accident that Mom had put Bubbles on the shotgun seat.

"Can't I stay and talk too?" Blossom said. Despite her pessimism, she hoped – wished – that she was wrong. Mom seemed better the past few days, and it seemed as if she might go back to being her January self again; well, she hoped.

"No. Listen to Mommy will you? Just go," Selicia insisted, and she sounded like she was just a hair's width from blowing her top. Her face was redder than usual, and the cold couldn't be the cause of it. Afraid, Blossom closed the door and walked away, constantly looking back at her sisters.

Selicia gripped the steering wheel of Dad's family saloon tightly, so tight that it creaked, the cloth crinkling and sounding like it could tear.

"Bubbles, if you hurt anyone – anyone at all, I will shoot you down and I won't miss, do you understand?" Selicia threatened without turning to her. Bubbles had inched her way towards the door, but the seatbelt and door prevented her from putting much distance between her and the Mom. "That goes double for your Daddy. You don't know how lucky you are to have him. Take him for granted again, and I'll finish you off like how Blossom should have."

All Bubbles could do was nod curtly, the color from her face drained.

"I don't even need your promise because I know girls like you. You're a born liar, I think it's obvious by now. I tried to be nice to you, but honestly? You don't deserve any of this," Selicia went on berating Bubbles coldly before falling silent; Bubbles was too upset and shocked at the words hurled at her that she couldn't even cry. "I'm done with you. Get the hell out of my car."

In fact, Bubbles was so shocked that she had forgotten about her seatbelt when she tried to get out as quickly as she could.

"For fuck's sake," Selicia whispered under her breath before helping Bubbles to unbuckle her seatbelt. The meekest of the three nearly fell out and had to hover to prevent that shameful thing. "And close the damn door!" Bubbles did as she was told; she had forgotten about that too after getting threatened by her own Mom.

When Selicia looked up at the rear-view mirror, she caught sight of Buttercup giggling to herself, likely taking pleasure in Bubbles' plight. She knew that Buttercup would - the animosity between her and Bubbles could only grow ever since Bubbles gave her one too many cranial traumas. Unknown to the seductive security officer, that wasn't the only thing. Using one of the few secrets she had left – her enhanced hearing – Buttercup was able to hear her Mom cursing while she was muttering to herself, and she thought it was funny. But after seeing her Mom's stern look in the rearview mirror, she stopped.

"Buttercup," Selicia uttered her name. The psychopathic girl appeared tense to her, and it pleased her, though she didn't let it show. That she could command such fear and respect from an enhanced little girl - one who suffered from clinical psychopathy no less - was an achievement in itself.

"I'm sorry…" Buttercup said quickly before Selicia could say anything else.

"Do you even know what that means?" Selicia sidetracked, unable to resist it.

"It means that… I'm sorry?" Buttercup repeated herself and was barely able to hide the confusion in her voice. She'd changed, and it was little wonder why. She'd basically had her ass handed to her over and over, and not just when it came to physical fights too.

"Anyway, I just want you to know that I've never stopped loving you," Selicia said.

"T-then why have you-" Buttercup was about to ask, but Selicia interrupted her.

"I- just… It's about your… 'Hobbies', Buttercup," Selicia confessed. "You have to know that that's not normal."

"I know," Buttercup paid for the confession with another, a smaller one. It felt like an opportunity - a way to get into her Mom's good books again and reap the rewards. "It's why I hid my stuff in the first place."

"Remember what I told you when we first met?" Selicia reminded her 'daughter'.

"That I don't have to hide who I am?" Buttercup recalled. "But you're still mad, aren't you?"

"Only because you hid something from me," Selicia claimed. "Buttercup, I'm your mother. Have you forgotten that? You can tell me everything. Is there anything else you've hidden from me?"

'What else could she possibly be hiding anyway?' Selicia was thinking. Having a jar of human teeth and nails had got to be the worst of it. There was a pause as Buttercup considered her options. But there were no options - she had to rebuild. She had to - after everything she lost.

"I killed a cat and buried it near the front door," Buttercup. "I talk to it sometimes, but it said it's no longer my friend, so I stopped talking to it."

"Well, that's…" Selicia was at a loss for words.

"And I killed the neighbor's dog too. I buried it in his backyard. I don't think he knows," Buttercup divulged further, like cashing in some chips at a casino. "I didn't talk to the dog though. It bit me, so I didn't want to be friends with it."

Selicia gave a sigh before rubbing her head.

"You're not going to tell Dad, are you?" Buttercup asked.

"When did you kill those animals?" Selicia asked when she'd recovered enough.

"Two months ago, I think," Buttercup admitted. "You're not going to tell Dad, right?"

Selicia looked out the windshield of the car at Blossom and Bubbles, who were standing at the entrance of the kindergarten complex. Bubbles, that liar, had collapsed in Blossom's arms, probably crying to her about how unfair everything was, even though she had it coming. She was probably telling more lies again, Selicia just knew it. She gave the matter some thought, but there was no way in hell she would create an even bigger rift between her and Buttercup over nothing.

"They're just some dumb animals. It's not like you've killed anyone," Selicia finally said. "Your Dad doesn't need to know."

Buttercup couldn't believe it at first. Her luck had been bad for as long as she could remember. It was more likely for her to lose out than to gain something. She smiled when she'd finally caught a break.

"Just don't do it again," Selicia said. "Like I said, it might feel good but… it's just not normal. Now get going, I'll see you when school's over, okay?"

"Yes, Mom!" Buttercup said jubilantly before opening the door and flying out, even though she was supposed to go easy with her powers in the school zone.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 0934.**

Even though the class had made every effort to make Bubbles feel welcome, she couldn't help but feel some kind of dissonance in the air between herself and the class. It was only when things returned to normal that Bubbles could feel a little at ease.

It didn't help, however, that she had to wear her uniform and gear in class. Her sisters, Blossom and Buttercup, were feeling similar things because of it. They didn't feel like kindergarten students that way.

"Stop touching my gun!" Blossom said to Mac, pushing him away when he tried to touch the MP5 slung on her back. However, it didn't deter him from doing it. He went back to putting his paws on it with a grin on his face.

"Stop!" Blossom said again before pushing him away again. Like some overeager puppy, he soon got closer to touch it again. She had to push him away once more.

"Miss Keane, Mac's been touching my gun! He's trying to take it!" Blossom reported to the teacher. Miss Keane had been busy at another table, and when she heard it, turned around quickly before marching up to Mac.

"Mac, how many times must I tell you? No touching or stealing guns in class! Especially when they don't belong to you!" Miss Keane lectured the little boy, pronouncing her every word loud and carefully to make sure the boy couldn't miss it.

"But Miss Keane, my dad doesn't ever let me touch his!" Mac complained. "And Blossom's look cool too! It's all big and sick looking! I was just trying to borrow it!"

"I think your dad probably has a very good reason," Miss Keane said, before taking him by the arm gently and pulling him towards a table - his own. "Why don't you draw yourself one instead of trying to 'borrow' one?"

The rest of the day had been relatively mundane, but the Girls, even Buttercup, found it appealing as it meant nothing bad was happening. Blossom and Bubbles enjoyed the peace, while Buttercup simply enjoyed the lack of consequences - it wasn't as if she could do what she wished while she was fighting criminals anyway – Dad and Blossom had made sure of that.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ Speak of the devil. Crime never sleeps. It never did even when the Powerpuff Girls were convalescing after their internal conflict, just that someone else had to answer the call when they were not available. People who were far more fragile, some who would die without the Girls knowing it. But now, they were back in business - for better or worse. They could only hope that Bunny grow up quickly so that they could have help.


	60. Chapter 54: Beasts

Reply to Guest: Well, we'll see how it goes with Selicia. This being a story written to be somewhat realistic, it's just as possible that she could change...

* * *

**Chapter 54: Beasts**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1453.**

It was astounding, simply astounding. Phenomenal. While Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were at school, or fighting crime, Professor Utonium had been tending to Bunny all day long, but most importantly, teaching her everything - little by little. And she was simply astounding, phenomenal. The rate at which she was learning… anything really, was far beyond what Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were capable of. While Bunny was unable to really run yet, she was already walking within hours of awakening for the first time. Her first word came mere minutes after that.

'Dadda,' she had said, and when Selicia had joined after she returned from sending the Girls to school, she would follow it up with 'Momma'. Hygienic practices-wise, she understood very quickly how to use the toilet. Like the Girls, she disliked the stink of feces and urine and cried when she peed in her diapers, and so that was incentive enough for her to climb aboard the porcelain train.

The professor, thus, had resolved to teach Bunny everything as fast as he could, to fulfill her potential - her destiny. To be someone who would outperform Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup in every respect. Grudgingly, he had to accept that at the end of the day, it was for her to supersede them as enhanced operatives of the USDO. It still felt like he was using her, but he'd decided that what mattered was that Bunny was going to be treated like family so that, like her trio of elder sisters, her job would be made as comfortable as it could be.

Playtime was spent on a naming game, when the professor would flash cards at Bunny, naming the content of the cards at the same time, beckoning for the newly-born eight-year-old to repeat it.

Bunny never ceased to amaze him.

Within a few hours, breaks included, Bunny was able to learn, with increasing accuracy, the names of over a hundred objects from balls to cars to police officers, and how to pronounce them. She was able to remember them too, with memory and linguistic flair rivaling that of Blossom's.

Time seemed to fly in this voyage of discovery with Bunny the professor had embarked upon, but soon, the spell was broken when Bunny was finally exhausted by all the new things she had learned. The only limiting factor to her mental capacity, it seemed, was mental exhaustion.

But even while Bunny was asleep, all the professor could do was to sit beside her, or lie down in the Girls' bed beside her, mulling, waiting for the next time he could teach and observe the miracle that was Bunny at work. That was, at least until the doorbell rang.

It'd snapped the professor out of what felt like a dream. Rising from the Girls' tri-colored bed, he gingerly left the room to avoid waking Bunny and headed to the door.

'Who could it be at this hour?' the professor thought. It couldn't have been Selicia – she was taking a beauty nap way before Bunny. The Girls would have gone through the second-floor windows and let him know.

He didn't need to take long to find out. On opening the door, he found a gigantic beast of a man blocking the view. The security officer beside him, a woman of corporal rank with brown hair, was tiny compared to him, and less noticeable.

"General Blackwater?" the professor said, before turning to the female security officer. "And you are…"

"Corporal Nana Weston, sir," the younger security officer actually saluted the professor. "It's an honor to finally meet you."

"She's my… aide," General Blackwater revealed.

The professor, however, was nonplussed that a pair of USDO officers had decided to invade his home while he was busy on Bunny's first day.

"What brings the both of you here?" he asked in a matter-of-fact way. He didn't intend to be as welcoming as he could - General Blackwater was one of those people who saw it fit to make use of Bunny.

"Security review," the general revealed. "You know the drill. We have a new enhanced individual, and so we have to take a peek."

"Er… No, I don't know the drill," the professor said, confused. "Security's outside. It doesn't take a general to inspect a house either."

"It's not just about the house, prof," the corporal beside Blackwater said, with a smile on her face that looked out of place for a serious 'security review'.

"Take us to B-50," General Blackwater simply ordered. "I want to see her- it again."

The professor couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the couple of security officers, at General Blackwater's self-correction. He was usually much more sure of himself than now.

Not wanting to question the general, he did as he was told, and brought them up to the Girls' room. Bunny was already awake by the time the professor returned, and it hadn't even been an hour yet.

"The furnishing in this room is… adequate," the general said. It'd only raised questions in the professor about him. What did the furnishing have anything to do with security?

The corporal approached Bunny, who was sitting up in bed. Sitting down beside her, the young security officer waved at her, greeting her as any child-conscious woman would. The general appeared to have nothing against it as he stood by one of the port-windows and looked out of it, down at the security convoy parked across the street.

"She's beautiful! Look at her eyes!" the female security officer couldn't help but burst out in praises. Why would a security officer care about the appearances of a bioweapon?

Bunny giggled at what the security officer said. She pointed at her and blubbered out: "Girl! Girl!"

"That's right, I'm a girl just like you," the young female security officer said. She then proceeded to stroke her head affectionately. "I can't believe you're just a day old!"

The general turned around to pin the professor down with his glare before he could question what was going on any further.

"Did you name her?" the general asked. "What's her name?"

"I didn't name her. Bubbles did," the professor said, tense from the general's visit, but not because he was afraid of him. "Her name's Bunny. Bunny Utonium."

General Blackwater seemed to freeze the moment the professor said the name. As if there was something wrong with it. It didn't help that the general seemed to be studying the professor's face.

"It'll serve," he sighed, saying nothing about how he obviously didn't like it. "Have you assessed her capabilities yet?"

"Does learning ability count in your war-addled brain?" the professor said. By what right did the general came into his home and judge him? He hadn't forgotten about the general's part in the Morbucks' masquerade ball, and certainly not his hand in pushing his daughters to their absolute limit when he should have gone easy on them. They were working harder than even most adults and taking far more risks than it was humane! And soon, he would be doing the same thing with Bunny.

"Yes," the general simply said. He probably knew that the professor was contentious and dissatisfied with his decisions, but chose not to bother with it.

"She started walking, eating, using the toilet and speaking about a hundred words today," Professor Utonium bit at his words as if he was about to get into a fight. "Is that good enough for you? Or do you want to traumatize this one too?"

"You've grown attached to Bunny?" the general asked, his eyes still fixed on him as if deciding whether or not to execute him on the spot. "You love her?"

"Children are meant to be loved. More so by those who sired them," the professor said, this time allowing some venom to seep into his words. "Some of us are more human than others."

"At least some of them think so," the general countered surprisingly. After taking a pause whilst glaring at the professor some more, he continued: "I don't care how you feel about Bunny, as long as you provide for her needs, and make her happy."

"Since when do you ever care about the Girls' happiness?" the professor snapped back at him, at the same time keeping an eye on the lower-ranking security officer with brown hair, who appeared to be completely absorbed in interacting with Bunny. Bunny, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind the corporal as she was making funny faces at her. She was laughing instead.

"Sooner than you think, and more than you know," the general replied curtly, before sighing. "But business is business, and war is war. And speaking of warring - you will teach her as much as you can in the next two days because I'm taking her on the fourth for a three-day crash course. Her and Sergeant Selicia."

"Isn't that far too soon!?" the professor retorted fiercely, flinging an arm at the general, causing everyone in the room to look at him. Even Bunny knew what was up. "It took Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup three weeks to get prepared for their first mission and even then, it was one miserable tragedy after another!"

"And guess whose fault is that?" the general said coldly. "You were supposed to raise those brats as soldiers. You knew they were meant to be soldiers. You've spoiled them instead, coddling them too much when you should be toughening them up. You want to talk about being human? Love? That's love - preparing your close ones for what they must face. No, you're just selfish. They're just replacements for your dead wife and kid."

"Don't you dare mention them!" the professor warned the general, but he wasn't making anyone shrink away from him anytime soon. The general knew that he was more than a match for the middle-aged geek even in his sixties.

The general did not reply. Instead, he turned to the door and started walking away.

"You're wrong about me!" Professor Utonium added.

"Let's go, corporal," General Blackwater said to his aide on his way out of the room.

"Awww, but we just got here!" the soldier said.

"Fine, I'm going to have a talk with Selicia, and then we're going," the general said. The professor thought he was being unusually relenting. In fact, he wasn't acting quite like his normal self. That, however, was the end of his thought process. His guts felt like ice, and his legs had gone numb from it. Collapsing in the Girls' bed, he didn't even notice when minutes went by, and Corporal Nana Weston had bid him goodbye and gone away.

He just started crying. He'd never expected this - it was dangerous enough that Bunny's creation was rushed. It was bad enough that he had only three weeks with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup before they were pressed into service. Now, he had only three days with Bunny before everything would go to shit.

Well, presumably. There was always the chance that Bunny could be the skeleton key to a crime-free future, but even then, she would have to grow up very quickly. She would have far less time to indulge in any kind of childhood. Far less time to be human.

When the professor was crying, Bunny noticed. She knew what it meant - she had been doing that herself sometimes, all day. It meant that her Dad needed something. Attention. Love. Despite knowing only about a hundred words, she didn't need them to understand the vocabulary of human emotions. Standing up from among her toys, she waddled over to the professor, concerned and on the verge of tears herself because her Dad - this pillar of strength, the only pillar of strength she knew - had fallen.

"Dada sad," Bunny uttered the few words she knew. She was able to boost herself up onto the professor lap with her enhanced strength. She then wiped some of her father's tears away with her fingers. "Bunny love Dada…"

Bunny's gestures were the remedy he needed for his crying and shaking. It'd filled him with hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, things might turn out fine. After all, Bunny was already capable of things which Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup needed a week to accomplish, which normal children would take a couple of years at least to even attempt.

"Daddy loves Bunny too," the professor replied, and they hugged.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. The Flying Tumbleweed (Convenience Store).**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1725.**

It had been a lousy day for The Powerpuff Girls. Having to leave class within an hour of it notwithstanding, it was another dive into Crimesville, USA, like before Bubbles' final drug-fueled rampage. They were involved in one high-speed chase after another, in quelling multiple random acts of violence perpetrated by mobs of seemingly everyday citizens, but the final topping on the cake was when they had to deal with another incursion by an enhanced individual…

Though the worst had yet to come.

It all started with an erroneously-made call claiming that a man in a furry suit was holding up a convenience store. A USDO patrol unit just so happened to be in the area. Feeling vulnerable over the recent decision by Director Cliff to split up his forces into smaller units to cover a wide number of emergencies, they made the call for an intervention by The Powerpuff Girls after the owner of the store was thrown through a window. They believed the man in the furry suit to be jacked up with His Secret 2.0, but they had him contained with the help of the police.

The truth was worse.

"A man in a bear suit? At least it isn't another gang," Blossom said in her ignorance as she landed next to the fire-team of USDO soldiers attending to the convenience store robbery. While regular criminals weren't much of a danger, they were a nuisance because they usually came in huge numbers. It was like trying to catch some chicks in a wide, open area on a farm.

"Or another chase down the highway," Bubbles added. "I'm tired from all that flying!"

"What's there to be tired about? It was fun, so stop whining!" Buttercup added - though she didn't really believe in her own words, considering that her idea of fun was more than just chasing a car full of criminals around. Bubbles didn't have time to be upset at Buttercup when they were approached by the USDO.

"The Powerpuff Girls, finally!" the officer commanding the fire-team exclaimed.

"What seems to be the problem, mister?" Blossom asked.

"I know it sounds stupid, but-" the officer said, sounding a little too friendly before he stopped himself. He glared at Blossom as if remembering something nasty. "There's a man in there in a black-furred costume. I think he's on drugs, like Bubbles over there, the other day." He pointed at Bubbles with his XM4 Carbine. Bubbles was immediately facing the ground in shame. Blossom knew how it would make her feel, but there was nothing she could do but give the officer a frown. "The weird eyes gave it away. There are no civilians in the line of fire, so just go in there and knock him out. We'll be right behind you to arrest him. Don't mess this up!"

"Sounds easy enough, let's just hurry up and get this done so we can go home for dinner, Bloss!" Buttercup harried her leader sister, with no joy at all in her voice. In any other circumstances, she would have enjoyed beating the snot out of a criminal, but no, she wasn't allowed to enjoy anything. A warm meal, on the other hand, was just about the pinnacle of enjoyment for her these days.

Blossom, however, was less confident. It sounded too easy, far too easy. But all she had to go on was that the man holding up the convenience store was on the same drugs as Bubbles and that he was wearing a furry suit.

"Fine. Follow behind me, we'll go through the door and make him sleep really quickly!" Blossom said to no one in particular - her sisters, the USDO soldiers, the cops. She then launched herself towards the glass doors of the convenience store, bright pink X-contrail in her wake, followed by her sisters, who emitted a lime and baby blue X-contrail respectively.

When they entered the convenience store, they found the man opening a refrigeration unit and cracking open a tall can of beer.

With just one glance, Blossom knew that something was wrong, and the operation wasn't exactly what was advertised.

"The shotgun, I've seen it before!" Buttercup uttered before she could. The man in the fur suit's gun was a modified lever-action shotgun with a thick barrel, reinforced by ribs.

"It's…" Bubbles couldn't even bear to finish what she was about to say.

"The Purple Man!" Blossom finished it for her. The Purple Man turned around, having noticed their frightened squeaking. Ghostly-white pupils stared back at them. After taking a big gulp, without warning and without so much as a word of greeting, he grabbed his shotgun and started firing. His black fur, in the meantime, had turned a shade of gray, blending in together with the generally dull coloring of the convenience store. Either way, he was anything but purple.

Shots were fired at the Girls, some of which hit home, and the Girls ducked into hiding behind a shelf full of plastic-packaged pastries and other, less healthy, comestibles.

"What do we do!?" Bubbles squeaked in fear as she trembled – but half of it was out of the fear of backsliding into cowardice.

"Fight, of course, you bobblehead!" Buttercup insulted the meekest of the three. Blossom glared at her - but there was no time.

"We'll go in three directions. Buttercup, you go straight ahead and use the shelf. I'll go up. You go left, Bubbles!" Blossom ordered.

"But-" Bubbles was about to object only to be ignored:

"Go!" Blossom ordered and launched herself into the air. Buttercup immediately shoved the shelf forward, like a professional footballer pushing another back. The shelf, which spanned a quarter of the store ended up crashing into the Purple Man, even managing to pin him down before he could fire another dreaded shot.

Bubbles did as she was told the best she could, but on seeing the Purple Man so swiftly neutralized, she couldn't think of what to do next.

"You again! Tiny little city pixies!" the Purple Man growled.

"Shut up and eat it, stupid!" Buttercup retorted. She couldn't help but admit inside that Blossom's leadership had paid off this time, and she enjoyed seeing the Purple Man brought so low. He might be dangerous out in the woods, but here, where the city was, the Girls were more in their element.

With Bubbles left indecisive, Blossom flew in for the final blow. It still seemed too easy… until the Purple Man's claws had ripped through the steel shelves, sending a mountain of pastries and packaged candies flying up into the air, blinding Blossom.

Blossom felt herself flying backward across the convenience store, blood-like flower petals flowing before her before she landed in a shelf full of cassette tapes and floppy disks. Looking down at herself, she saw blood seeping through her Kevlar vest and plates.

"B-B-Blossom?" Bubbles cried. It was all coming back to her in one big cascade. Her failure back in the woods of Pokey Oaks, she and her sisters getting grievously wounded then, and Blossom screaming at her and hitting her. Then there was Captain Boomer, and how he was nailed on a tree. To this day, she still didn't know where he was or how he was doing. But most importantly: Blossom! "Stop hurting my sister!"

Bubbles hurled herself at the Purple Man, who had tossed away Buttercup as well, and as she was flanking him and he was busy putting a few blood-enhanced shells into Buttercup, he wasn't able to react quickly enough when she gave him a punch in the face, then another, and another.

Being badly wounded, Blossom could only watch as Bubbles went into a frenzy of destruction, quite unlike her usual self from before her drug addiction problem arose. She was incredibly fast! When the Purple Man tried to seize her with his claws, she would flit away and resume her beating. Once, she landed and swept the Purple Man off his feet, and when he tried to get up, was punched several times across the face before he could.

Like an animal, the Purple Man resorted to pouncing on Bubbles while she was low on the ground, but she was able to get away and on turning around, fired the ion beam she had retained from her drug incident, searing the Purple Man, though doing very little real damage except for burning hair and skin - it was an enhanced ability, as the professor would discover in the future, which was more useful in less offensive matters, such as disrupting electronic equipment, than raw firepower.

All good things must come to an end, however, and as Bubbles swooped in for another flurry of punches, the Purple Man was finally able to grab Bubbles by an arm and a leg. The blonde little girl could only pound at the furry monster's arm uselessly when she realized she couldn't move.

"Gotcha, you brat!" he said. "I'm gonna teach you! Teach you all the way!" He started squeezing Bubbles' arm and legs, and she screamed as alarmingly, the sickening sound of bones snapping could be heard.

"Buttercup, go!" Blossom screamed in panic, her voice breaking when she realized Bubbles was in peril. They both dived into the Purple Man at full speed, knocking him fully across the convenience store, with shelves falling beneath him and knocking down others in a domino effect. He was sent flying all the way into a refrigerator, with the glass door shattering and most of him stuck inside. A mixture of all sorts of alcoholic and bubbly beverage flowed past him like a waterfall and onto the ground.

Bubbles fell out of his arms, rolling on the ground, her head lolling briefly, eyes closed. The Purple Man wasn't moving either after that.

"Bubbles… Oh no…" Blossom uttered as she saw what had become of her sister. Both her left arm and left leg were bending in unnatural ways around the elbow and knee. But there was no time to fret and cry. As Buttercup stood guard, watching the Purple Man, who looked like he was out for the count, Blossom started dragging Bubbles away, and while she was doing this, Bubbles' eyes fluttered open, though the first thing they expressed was pain, along with her gritted teeth.

"Oh, Bubbles, what have you done to yourself?" Blossom said, heartbroken that her sister, in trying to prove herself, had gotten herself hurt badly.

"I'm so sorry… Blossom," Bubbles struggled to speak as pain radiated throughout her entire body. "I… I've done it again. Nothing's changed. I'm still a coward. You were hurt because of me."

"No, Bubbles. Don't say that," Blossom comforted her. She bent down to get closer to her sensitive sibling. "You did really well. You gave us a chance to fight back. But- I wish you hadn't done that. I wish you weren't hurt."

"I'd rather be hurt," Bubbles replied.

"He's waking up again!" Buttercup informed the two of them while the Purple Man groaned as he tried to extricate himself from the beverage aisle.

"Purple Man!" Blossom shouted as she forcibly tore herself from Bubbles, more angry than upset now. Turning around, he marched up to the brawny, furry giant, whose fur was returning to its usual shade of purple. "You meanie! Why are you doing this!? Why are you hurting people!? Why hurt my sister!?"

The Purple Man was just straightening up and grabbing his boomstick when he heard Blossom's tirade. He didn't expect to be spoken to, especially not by three little runts who had invaded his neck of the woods a couple of weeks ago, injured him and broke Joe, who he was still trying to repair. Originally, he intended to continue fighting, but after blinking twice and taking in Blossom's question, he lowered his lever-action shotgun and growled - he had his grievances too.

"I came to this here establishment for help, but all I git are these ill-mannered city 'uns screaming my ears off and calling the sheriff and even shooting at me!" the Purple Man rumbled. "I've even brought money, but apparently it's not good enough for them 'posh' folks!"

Buttercup, closest to the Purple Man, was looking back at Blossom, pleading with her eyes to let her take him one, but Blossom shook her head.

"But that doesn't make hurting people right! What do you need help with, anyway?" Blossom asked.

"Winter's keeping on like no other winters. It still feels like December, and it's gettin' harder to find venison and fish. Them deers knew to avoid my neck of the woods, and the river's runnin' outta fish or somewhat, you follow?" the Purple Man explained, but Blossom couldn't understand half of it. The look on her face was obvious, so he went on to simplify himself: "I couldn't find food, so I wanted to buy myself some - but the boys and gals here don't think I'm good enough for 'em!"

Something clicked in Blossom - previously, the Purple Man had attacked a gas station, and it just so happened to have a convenience store in it too. Had he been out for some food back then too?

"If it's food you want, will you leave if we let you take whatever you want?" Blossom proposed. On the inside, she felt proud of herself for thinking of such an ingenious solution. In any case, she didn't think she could handle another bout of fighting. Clutching her chest, she felt like she'd been cut up like a paper with penknives and scissors. Not to mention, Bubbles had literally given an arm and a leg just to equalize the balance of power between furry monster and kindergarten fighters.

The Purple Man couldn't believe his ears. These city girls would let him leave? After everything?

"Yes - if them folks here had been wiser with their words and not forgit what their mama taught them…" the Purple Man mumbled.

"Then take whatever you want and go," Blossom said, still cross with him. She had decided - as much as she hated the Purple Man for hurting her sisters, he wasn't entirely in the wrong, it seemed. Neither was more fighting going to help.

"Fine," the Purple Man growled, before sidestepping them, and backing away, his gun still cautiously held at low port. "Don't you dare try anything." And with that, the Purple Man started gathering his food. Blossom, however, decided to expedite the process as a show of good faith and to just end it all quickly. While he gathered his selected items - mainly meat products - Blossom threw whatever she could get her hands on into a shopping cart and flew up to the Purple Man while holding it out for him.

"My friends outside are mad though," Blossom said as she handed over the spoils to the Purple Man. "So you'll have to sneak out the back. They're still trying to get there. I think the snow's blocking the way."

"Don't you start fancyin' that we're friends," the Purple Man growled after snatching away the shopping cart full of goods and dumping his own selections in. He stuck his boomstick into the baby seat last. "We're not even either - you broke Joe, and that's unforgivable," With that, he went on his way out.

"Urm- Mister?" Blossom said, and the Purple Man stopped. "What's your name?"

The Purple Man turned around, his whitened pupils searching Blossom's frightened pink.

"I haven't figured it out yet, but I go by Lumpkins," the Purple Man introduced himself, at long last. Blossom found it odd - how could a man not know his own name? Not that it mattered - while the battle was terrible, and Bubbles was hurt badly, with herself not far behind, the worst was yet to come.


	61. Chapter 55: The Black Car

**Chapter 55: The Black Car**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1816.**

Home sweet home, at long last. The day had been terrible. When there was the Purple Man, whom the Girls now knew to call by Lumpkins, it had to be. He was practically a disaster walking on legs, and even when they were stronger and more seasoned than before, they weren't able to defeat him. They had to make him go away by letting him take whatever food he wanted. Blossom didn't like it - she knew that her sisters wouldn't like it either - but though it was like letting a bully have his way, it was the only way. Lumpkins would have gone on to hurt or even kill them, then move on to hurt or kill everyone else around them.

But that wasn't even the worst part…

'I solved the problem, mister!' Blossom had announced proudly when she met the USDO soldier in charge of the operation, half an hour ago at the outskirts of Townsville. The soldier looked distressed when she said it.

'What did you do?' he'd asked, pale as if he'd seen a ghost. 'B-47, what have you done?'

'The 'man in a bear suit' was actually the Purple Man. His name is Lumpkins,' Blossom had explained, at the same time hoping that the soldier was just tired from the operation and cold from the weather. The alternative would be too much to stomach. 'He was actually just hungry, so we gave him lots of food and he left.'

Blossom had said it proudly, wearing a confident smile and expecting nothing but praises. Her plan had gone on without a hitch, no less. Sure, Lumpkins had to run through a hail of bullets out the back, but there weren't that many cops behind the convenience store, just like how she predicted. She'd seen him run, and he didn't lose anything he was carrying away either. Neither was anyone else hurt, and that was the most important part.

'You what!?' the soldier yelled on hearing Blossom's explanation. 'You weren't supposed to just let him leave! I told you! I told you to knock him out so we can arrest him!'

'But he was too strong- and- and- he would have hurt others!' Blossom tried to justify herself. 'My sisters are hurt really badly!' she pointed at Bubbles and Buttercup, who were behind her. Buttercup had put one of Bubbles' arm around her shoulder to assist her with walking and flying. She had an arm and a leg that were mangled. 'He was just hungry, and he was just trying to buy food and-'

'Shut up! Just shut up!' the soldier screamed at her. As if her slash wounds weren't bad enough, it'd shaken her. 'You mean to tell me that you were scared for your lives - like cowards - and you just let an enhanced individual walk because of that!?'

'But-'

'That 'Lumpkins' killed entire squads of soldiers! Some of them were my friends!' the soldier berated Blossom, who shrunk away from the enraged soldier. 'And guess who's going to pay for all those food? It's gonna be the USDO! Guess who's going to have to write a report on this! Me! And guess who isn't going to get any justice! My friends!'

'But we protected the people in the store, and he would have hurt everyone outside!' Blossom stubbornly defended herself.

'You protected yourself! Now get lost! General Blackwater is going to hear about this!' the soldier hollered.

'No! Please! It's not what you think!' Blossom cried, flying up close to him. The USDO soldier took exception to this, however, thinking that the enhanced little girl was rebelling against him. He drew his sidearm quickly and fired a few shots at her.

'Ow!' Blossom had cried in pain, recoiled from it when she felt gunshots on her arms when she shielded herself from the gunshots.

'I said get lost! You're done here! Go home and cry to your daddy about it, because I don't want to hear it!' the soldier had said to end the conversation if it could be called as such.

They had to fly back home carrying Bubbles on their shoulders, as her broken limbs (not that they really knew what was really wrong with her arm and leg) had badly affected her ability to fly. It wasn't a pleasant journey, as their flight packs couldn't be extended while they were huddled together, making it even harder to fly. Bubbles wouldn't stop crying in pain - Buttercup found it annoying while the fact that she was in pain was trampling on the shattered remains of Blossom's heart. Yet, all this wasn't the worst, as it had yet to come.

The Girls flew through their porthole windows and into their room. Blossom and Buttercup deposited Bubbles in their bed, and Blossom flew out the door to look for the professor. As she was traveling at high speeds due to the emergency, she was quick to comb through the entire second floor while shouting desperately for her Dad, and she did the same for the first floor. Where could he be? She wasn't able to find anyone else too - no Mom, not even Bunny.

At least, not until she went through the airlock leading down and into the labs. Her Dad had never done this before. Whenever he knew that the Girls were out fighting crime, he would stay in the living room or somewhere close by, just in case they needed him - and more than once, they did need him.

Instead, Blossom found him in the labs, with Mom and Bunny. He was standing beside a Bunny who was already flexing her Chemical X2-enhanced strength, carrying a 2,000-pound load over her head, and it didn't look too difficult for her at all. And she was showered with praises from both a cheering Mom and a Dad who was recording her progress with a smile on his face, oblivious to what Bunny's elder sisters were going through.

"Dad!" Blossom called out to him. All three of them turned to her.

"Oh hey-" the professor greeted her with a young, boyish smile on his face until he saw the state she was in. The blood on her vest had dried, but it was still obvious to a caring father. "Blossom!"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**23 FEB (Thursday) 1989. 1837.**

"It's not too bad," the professor said as he was examining Bubbles, who Blossom and Buttercup had transferred down to the labs from their room. Her left arm and leg were still bending the wrong way, and Bubbles hadn't been able to move them since. It was terrifying for her, and in her childish mind, she thought she was going to be a cripple for the rest of her life. "They're just dislocated. Our friend 'Lumpkins' would have to try harder to break your bones, sweetie."

"He's not our friend," Blossom, who was watching from a nearby sickbed, corrected her Dad. "That's what he said."

"I hope he wouldn't try harder…" Bubbles cried, still wiping tears away.

"I'm going to have to reset your joints, Bubbles," the professor said. Thankfully, Bunny was taken away to another corner of the lab by Selicia so she didn't have to see it. It was bad enough that Bubbles' arm and leg were bending in the wrong direction, but when the kevlar plates there were removed, the professor had discovered that the entirety of the affected joints were bruised and swollen, with the black-and-blue spreading across both limbs. There was massive internal bleeding, likely from how serious the dislocations were.

"Is it going to hurt?" Bubbles wept.

"Yes, I'm afraid it will," the professor said. "Be strong, honey. It'll be over quickly."

"I'm here with you, Bubbles," Blossom said from her bed. Buttercup, on the other hand, was just watching and waiting for that satisfying moment when Bubbles would explode in tears.

"I'm going to work on your arm first," the professor said. Taking a baseball, he put it into Bubbles' dislocated arm. "Here, hold onto this tightly."

Bubbles mewled in fear as she gave the ball a tight clench. Despite her dislocation, she was still strong enough to grip it tightly, vice-like such that the baseball was in danger of flattening.

"Now, you're going to feel a little pulling sensation. Be strong…" the professor said, and before Bubbles could speak, he gave her arm a pull and her elbow a squeeze, orientating the limb in a maneuver to reset the joint. Pain exploded in her elbow and there was a popping sound, louder than one a regular elbow would make.

But Bubbles' scream was louder.

The professor was shaken by all of his. It was yet another day that would traumatize his daughters for years to come. But he couldn't stop. He tried to relocate Bubbles' knee immediately after this to make it quick, but despite him informing her about the pain, she was pushing him away with her other leg, using it to fence his hand away.

"Buttercup! Hold Bubbles down!" the professor said to his other daughter. Buttercup had gotten off lightly this time, suffering only bruises and cuts from Lumpkins' shotgun, so she was able to help.

"Gladly," Buttercup said as she flew over to pin Bubbles' arms and single working leg down.

"I'm sorry, Bubbles, but this will hurt much, much worse," the professor said apologetically when he seized Bubbles by her dislocated leg. "But it's going to be… just fine."

The bony snap could be heard even from beyond the curtains of the medical area of the lab, followed by Bubbles' scream.

However, Selicia had prepared Bunny just for that. While Bunny was playing with blocks, she had slipped a headphone on her hooked to a cassette player singing a lullaby into her ears.

Bubbles was barely conscious after her harrowing experience.

"You did it, Bubbles. You made it," the professor comforted her. "It's over now. You'll be fine."

"I'm glad she's okay, Dad," Blossom said from the side.

"You know what would make the three of you feel better?" the professor went on.

"What?" the three Girls asked in unison.

"Bunny! She's learning so fast!" the professor exclaimed, switching gears perhaps a little too fast to make a good impression on his daughters, before gushing at length: "She's already walking, not to mentioning saying her name, and she's mastered about two hundred words too - she called me Daddy not too long ago, and your mother Mommy - she knows your names too. The three of you have got to spend more time with her!"

It wasn't making any of them feel any better, with attention being taken away from them. Only Bubbles, perhaps, was glad that Bunny was doing better than they were.

"Oh…" Blossom said dejectedly, though the professor didn't quite pick up on it. He just thought that she was just in pain and miserable because of it. "That's… great."

"What's wrong?" the professor asked, sensing something else other than joy, though he had no clue what it would be, considering that the subject was Bunny - someone the Girls should be rooting for.

"Nothing…" Blossom said, however.

"Pff, I bet she'll take forever to learn how to fly," Buttercup said. "She's such a klutz!"

"You mean like you, Buttercup?" Bubbles interjected. She didn't like how Buttercup had found a new victim to taunt.

"Hey!" Buttercup exclaimed madly.

"I see the three of you are in high spirits," came Selicia's voice from the entrance of the ward curtains. Bunny was waddling beside her, giggling in that low voice of hers. Buttercup thought she looked like an idiot. Bubbles smiled when she turned to look at her, and though Blossom felt otherwise, she forced herself to smile at Bunny. It was clear by now that the kind of attention her Dad used to lavish on top of her was a thing of the past. In fact, thinking back, she realized in retrospect that it had been slowly slipping away when her Mom came into the picture, and as the days went by, Dad would devote more and more time to her instead. Bunny had merely made it more obvious when she took her slice of Dad's attention (and it was a big one at that), completing the process.

The professor picked up Bunny the moment she walked through, swooping in after her. Bunny giggled when he did.

"Oof, you're heavy, bunny rabbit!" he said. He could barely handle it when he let her sit in his arms. "Say hi to your sisters - do you remember their names?" He pointed at Bubbles. "Can you remember her name?"

"Bubbles!" Bunny reiterated with a laugh. Bubbles, who was still resting in her patient bed and didn't even dare to get up, smiled at this development. It was a warm, fuzzy feeling, forgetting about everything that had happened in the past and just being in the here and now, enjoying the company of a new sister and her family. Bunny's rapid development was something she could get behind - better that she be talented than useless like her. Bubbles was still unable to shake off the sense of worthlessness and guilt she felt after seeing Lumpkins off in the Tumbling Weed Convenience Store, and especially after her drug abuse episode.

Then the professor turned and pointed at someone else, and Bunny gladly obliged.

"Buttercup!" Bunny read her name as if it was ice-cream to be licked clean off a cone. Buttercup was anything but accepting and celebratory, however. She crossed her arms and frowned instead. She wouldn't even meet Bunny's gaze as the physically eight-years-old looked at her with innocence in her eyes. Another competitor, that's all she was.

The professor then turned to the last elder sister in the room. "What about her?" he asked.

"Blossom!" Bunny recalled effortlessly. Blossom wanted to be happy for Bunny, at having reached milestones she would have taken days, not a day, to stumble onto. But something inside her prevented her from being fully genuine about it, something she had never felt before in her three months of life. She had been the apple in her father's eyes for just as long - and it felt as if Bunny had taken her place, and it was eating away at her.

"Who's the smartest girl there is? You are!" the professor pinched Bunny's cheek playfully and Bunny giggled in her repugnant, low voice. What the professor said had made Blossom felt worse. Here she was, lying in a hospital bed, bandaged up because of her wounds in the chest suffered in the line of fire, while she was away an entire day doing good, and her Dad had hardly paid her any attention! All because Bunny had learned things her elder sisters had mastered months ago! "You're the smartest girl there is, yes you are! You definitely are!"

The feeling was something Dad had rarely talked about. But the one time he named it was all it took for Blossom to remember it.

Jealousy.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 0755.**

"Are you sure you'll be fine, Bubbles?" the professor asked. He couldn't help but look down at Bunny, who was standing next to him, perpetually smiling without a care in the world.

"I'll be fine, Dad," Bubbles said as she was walking towards the door. She was already in uniform and gear, in accordance with General Blackwater's instructions, just like her sisters. Her left limbs were still stiff and sore, which made walking and flying awkward, but at least the unsightly bruises were gone. "You fixed me up really well." She flew up to him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Bubbles fly!" Bunny exclaimed when she saw Bubbles doing her 'magic trick' again.

"Yes, I am, Bunny! You'll be flying soon too," Bubbles replied. In the meantime, Blossom and Buttercup had already traveled all the way to the door even though they had done it at a snail's pace. Neither of them was laughing, or smiling, or even feeling okay. Blossom could still feel stiffness in the chest, not that Dad seemed to care. Bubbles was puzzling to her - couldn't she see that she had been pushed aside because of Bunny too?

"Not only that, she'll be better than the three of you at it in no time too!" the professor said, with that stupid, boyish grin on his face that Blossom was beginning to find unlikable. What he said grated at him such that she couldn't help but grit her teeth and glare at the sight of a jubilant Bunny, an ignorant Bubbles and a negligent Dad. "And then she'll be fighting-"

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The USDO hotline screamed at the conversation. The clown phone was at it again, stating its opinion. Blossom looked at it, unable to decide if it was on her side this time. Nonetheless, she couldn't believe that she was glad it rang, as it meant she didn't have to take Dad's car with Bunny.

"-Crime," the professor finished his sentence anyway. Not that he could finish everything he wanted to say. Blossom flew over to the phone and picked it up.

"Hello?" she greeted the phone.

"Is this the Powerpuff Girls?" a man's voice, grating and seasoned and unfamiliar, said through the otherwise happy-and-sunshine clown phone.

"Y-yes," Blossom said. The voice made her feel uneasy. "How can I help you, mister?"

"I am the chief of Precinct 77. I have a special assignment for the three of you," the grating voice continued and would have done so whether Blossom had asked or not. "Go to Wilkins Street at Downtown. A black car will be there waiting for you by a pawnshop at thirty past eight. Don't be late."

"What is it about, Mister Chief-Of-Precinct-77? Who are we fighting?" Blossom asked. Her answer was the phone hanging up and a monotonous tone suggesting a mystery.

"What is it, Blossom?" the professor asked, as usual, apprehensive about the prospect of the Girls going out there again.

"The man on the tele said it's a 'special assignment'…" Blossom said. The only thing she could equate to was that it could be a surprise. The 'special assignment', after all, had come from the police. A chief, no less. For all she knew, it might not even be an assignment. Could it be the Mayor's surprise? Or even something thrown together by the Townsville Police? If it was, it could be the break she deserved - not just from fighting crime, but from the domestic problems she'd been encountering, the latest one being Bunny.

"Oh… I hate missing school all the time…" Bubbles commented, looking just as upset.

"I guess that means we'll be shopping for Bunny's stuff alone," Selicia, who was just coming out of the kitchen, said. She was wearing a red dress - it was her favorite color, it seemed, with black coming in a close second; her accessories were mostly of that color.

Her smirk betrayed the fact that she would rather be alone with Professor Utonium and Bunny than to have the Girls around. Bunny had gotten an instant glare from Buttercup that way.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Wilkins Street.**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 0824.**

"What kind of surprise do you think it will be, Blossom?" Bubbles asked just as they were descending down to the place where they were supposed to be for the 'special assignment'.

"Maybe the rest of the police wants to throw us a birthday party?" Blossom guessed absentmindedly. Dad was still on her mind. "We've done so much for them. I don't mind getting a cake for it."

"I just want an assignment where we get to beat hundreds of people up!" Buttercup said, referring to the times when they had to go on riot control, donning their riot gear and wielding crowd suppression weapons. That was when she had to go medieval on a horde of people, and she loved it.

"Maybe we'll get to play with puppies together with the orphans. Like that time with the mayor?" Bubbles took her own guess.

"I don't think so," Blossom said the moment they touched down. "At least… I won't be at home with Bunny, no matter what it is."

"You too, Blossom?" Buttercup said to her leader sister, and they exchanged looks. "I don't think I like Bunny…"

Blossom did not reply immediately, feeling conflicted inside. Her feelings were strong in this one - Bunny was taking something from them that she did not deserve, and the three of them had fought with teeth and nails, sometimes literally, for love.

"But Bunny's our sister…" Bubbles said but fell silent very quickly. She never thought she would hear such a thing - who could hate Bunny? After all, she was literally born yesterday!

A car rounding the corner, black as promised, made sure that Blossom didn't have to say anything. It was a vintage Mercedes, something a rich man would have. The car came up towards them, parking beside them. The Girls looked on, unsure of what to make of it. There were no markings. Blossom knew to look at the license plate, but it wasn't there. At first, there was no response from whoever was inside - the windows were tinted, so it made it impossible for anyone to see inside. That is, anyone except someone with X-ray vision.

And Blossom would have used it too, had someone inside not wound down his window. It was the driver, on the driver seat. A man in a clean, gray suit. A fedora hat. Late middle age, looking like he might have missed a few night's sleep occasionally. Perhaps binged on some potato chips while he was at it, though to the driver's credit, it wasn't too obvious.

"Powerpuff Girls? Get in," the man simply ordered them to do so, with a voice deep and commanding.

"Who are you?" Blossom questioned the man.

"I'm not supposed to say," he simply said.

"Is this like an undercover mission or something?" Buttercup added.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," the man answered impatiently. "Now get in."

There was something about this that Bubbles didn't like. It reminded her too much of the fairy godmother, even though she knew that this wasn't her doing. The fairy godmother would have gone to her directly.

Things just kept getting weirder and weirder…

As if the tumultuous changes at home weren't enough.


	62. Chapter 56: Equals

A/N: I've decided to change big guy's suit from gray to dark blue.

* * *

**Chapter 56: Equals**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. En Route to [Unknown]**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 0836.**

The black car's engine hummed elegantly as it took Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup across Townsville, towards someplace they weren't privy to. The driver was silent, quiet in his defiance of the Powerpuff Girls' initial impressions. His voice was deep and his stature huge, which made them think he was just some dumb muscle, but the look on his face, the aptitude in which he kept information from them, right down to the spartan surroundings in the car, his own person and his expression, told them the only thing they needed to know about him: he wasn't just some mindless muscle. Beside him was a skinnier man, this one in a brown jacket with a brown trilby to match. His hands were gloved. When Blossom had studied the driver's hands, he noticed that they were gloved too.

"Where are we going?" Blossom asked again. Just knowing which street she was on didn't help her to figure it out. They could be making any number of turns, throwing off the straight line she'd drawn in her mind's map.

"You'll soon find out," the skinny man in brown replied evasively, though he was calm.

"I want to know where we're going," Buttercup insisted, the irritation in her voice promising violence. The two men looked at each other as if exchanging wordless messages.

"You'll not be harmed," the big guy on the wheel said. "If you want to find out, don't try anything."

"Our instructions are to escort you. That is all," the other man said, turning to his right to squint at them. "If we fail, we'll be punished… fatally for our ineptitude. Killing us won't do anything for you but curse you with a question you'll never find an answer to for the rest of your lives."

"I'm scared," Bubbles let slip.

"You're right to be," the big guy said, and that just made it worse. Blossom held Bubbles closely as she shivered. "But you're far better off than… well, I'm not going to tell those stories to little kids. If it helps, there are snacks behind my seat. Help yourself if you want to. Just don't leave a mess."

The journey towards the mystery location took a long time, but the Girls didn't help themselves to the snacks. Well, except Buttercup, who took it upon herself to eat some potato chips for the three of them. The car wasn't built for speed, and neither did the traffic and stoplights help. Blossom had been tracking their location all the while, and where they were heading, it didn't help with the oppressive, ominous atmosphere.

They were heading to the outskirts of Townsville, where terrible things tended to happen. The cityscape, abuzz with people and machines and vehicles, gave way to wilderness both open and enclosed, and more ancient, rustic buildings, a change the Girls weren't used to, being created and raised in an urban environment.

The foreboding atmosphere wasn't helped when a mansion came into view. It was nothing like Princess Morbucks' place, which was sprawling, homely and welcoming, and vibrant with colors. Instead, this mansion was tall, looming in the horizon like a giant, surrounded by jagged fencing on the parameter. It had a dull color theme to it, of gray and brown and vegetation. As the Mercedes passed through its gates, Blossom saw armed guards, all dressed smartly in suits and fedora of various dark colors. She would have thought that it was a dress code had it not been the few men and women who dared to wear brighter colors. There was a multitude of them, and she could only hope that they were police officers in disguise, just like back in The Strip, when Bubbles went undercover and… suffered horrible things.

Swerving into a parking lot, the car finally stopped, and its gentle humming stopped. It'd made Blossom wish she could just stay in the car. Both the driver and his partner got out of the car. As if well rehearsed, they got opened the passenger doors almost in unison.

"Come on out," the big guy said, and the Girls obeyed reluctantly. He then glared widely at Buttercup. Scattered all around her were crumbs of potato chips.

"I said not to leave a mess," the big guy said sternly.

"Sorry," Buttercup shrugged her shoulders.

"We will escort the three of you into the mansion," the thin one said. "There are rules to follow."

Bubbles didn't like where this was going. 'There are rules to follow,' that's what one of the suited men said, and it just so happened to be something the fairy godmother had mentioned before. Those rules were what nearly got her to kill half her family - something that would be a mark of shame for the rest of her life.

"What kind of rules?" Blossom asked.

"I hate rules!" Buttercup muttered.

"Just common sense, really," the big guy said. "They are things you'll do for someone you respect, like your pa, for instance."

"Considerin' that the three of you are kids, I think the rules goes double for you," the thin man said.

"The three of you will speak to them when spoken to, and only when spoken to," the thin one began listing the rules. "Do not turn your back to them unnecessarily. Don't be rude in any way. Do not just call them by their given names. Use their well-earned titles. That is all. For now, anyway. I haven't gotten into the rules of the house yet, but that can wait."

"Seems simple enough…" Blossom said.

"Pfff," Buttercup spat before folding her arms.

"But who are they, anyway?" Blossom asked again.

"You'll find out soon enough, like I said," the big guy said.

They were then led to the porch. The courtyard was huge. Just the courtyard alone had ten similarly well-dressed men and women guarding it. The porch had a similar number, well taken cared of with seats and glass jars and cups filled with water, and sandwiches. Everyone turned to stare at them as they walked past them. Past the porch, they went into the grand hall, then up the grand stairs. There were always eyes scrutinizing them, and there was never a moment when there weren't multiple pairs of eyes glaring down on them.

Crossing into a junction corridor beyond the grand stairs, they were led up an ornately-decorated spiral staircase, passing a floor entirely and into the fourth floor. The house had thus far been… voluptuous. Expensive. Richly furnished and designed and way ancient beyond their comprehension. Blossom concluded that who they were meeting must be very important, considering the place and the higher floor they were headed. For some reason, important men loved the upper floors. She had learned that from meeting the mayor, as well as Mister Morbucks back in January when they met over tea in his office at his tower.

Finally, on the fourth floor, they went down a corridor full of finely-carved doors, to one at the end of it, which was oddly similar, blending into the rest of the mansion. The big guy in his dark blue suit knocked on the door and poked his head in. He muttered something in a low tone, to which someone answered back in muffled words. Blossom turned to look at her sisters. Bubbles seemed afraid as usual, but she had changed, and she now felt that she could count on her meek sister to fight. Buttercup looked like she had been put on edge. Blossom remembered that she seemed to be able to hear things she couldn't - perhaps there was something she heard?

The big guy slipped his head out the door before closing it again.

"They want the three of you disarmed and stripped down," the big guy said. Blossom and Buttercup made confused expressions in the last part of the man's request. Bubbles, however, was especially horrified, considering what happened at The Strip. The man appeared confused himself with the look on their faces.

"Stripped down to your uniform, I meant. They want your armor and gear removed," the big guy clarified his request. "I know what we are, girls. You won't find a single pedophile in this building or in our entire organization. That kind of unnatural inclination isn't condoned around here."

"Taking our stuff away isn't going to make it any easier to beat us!" Buttercup exclaimed impulsively as she stepped forward aggressively.

"If we want to ambush you, we would have done it already," the thin guy said. "The three of you are not here to be killed."

"It's in your best interest to cooperate," the big guy boomed. "The men we work for can be generous if opportunity allows it. I suggest you take this chance. Besides, if you act out now, you'll never find out what they have to offer."

"How about if I put my fist in your-" Buttercup was about to curse at him as she stomped towards him when Blossom put her arm out to stop her.

"We should listen to them," Blossom decided. "If there's a way to avoid hurting people, we should do it."

"But this feels… wrong…" Bubbles said, still shaken by the earlier misunderstanding and the strangeness of everything. Blossom turned around to face her, taking her by the shoulders.

"This could be the reason why we're here," Blossom countered. Bubbles couldn't think of anything. "The police chief on the phone told us to get into the car. We have to do this - to help the people of Townsville!"

In the end, The Powerpuff Girls submitted to the big guy's relayed demands. Blossom, in pursuing her mission, Bubbles fearfully, while Buttercup, reluctantly. They laid out their weapons in a cabinet outside. Their two escorts had to pat them down for weapons. Buttercup was the worst offender when it came to hidden pieces of armament. Ever since losing her powers for a couple of days, she had become paranoid about losing them again, and as such had hidden weapons all over her gear to prepare for the day it might happen. The big guy and the thin guy had to pull out backup pistols from her back pouch, out of her belt and even inside her uniform. There was a kitchen knife in her back pouch, too, that she had filched from The House's kitchen. By the end of it, the Girls' weapons had formed one big pile.

After stripping their armor off, the Girls were ushered through the door in their uniforms. If there was anything that could rival the oval office of the White House, it was the room they had just entered, though it was more of a rectangular office, with a rustic, rural-gentlemanly look to it. It had a predominantly brown-colored theme rather than white. Bookshelves, completely filled, lined either side of the room. Couches and tables took the middle. But the first thing the Girls noticed were the people seated behind the triplet desks at the end of the room.

It was the Amoeba Boys. The so-called Bossman, Slim, and Junior.

Bossman, a thickset brawny man with a cigar clenched between his teeth, stood up first. Same as the men who respected him as their boss, he was smartly-dressed, with a gray suit.

"If it isn't the 'Powerpuff Girls'," he said in an Italian accent whilst biting his cigar. "Welcome… to the Lombardi Family Estate."

The Girls had never seen the speaker before, but two of them didn't need long at all to recognize the two other faces on either side of him. Blossom and Buttercup remembered how they met Junior first, how he had beaten them to within an inch of their life. They remembered, too, how Slim had drowned Buttercup and nearly killed her. Bubbles, on the other hand, wasn't present either way, but somehow, just somehow, she knew to fear them - mostly because she feared the fairy godmother.

"It's those two!" Buttercup yelled as she stepped forward in a combat stance.

"Slim! Junior! What are the two of you doing here!?" Blossom questioned the inferior bosses of the Lombardi.

"What did I tell you about the rules, you rude little girls!?" the big guy roared behind them ferociously. When Blossom turned around to look at him - she didn't realize that her escorts had taken positions on either side of the exit - she saw him pulling out the biggest pistol she had ever seen and pulling the slide with the sound of mechanical steel moving making it abundantly clear that she had wronged him severely. He pointed it at him - Blossom saw him squeeze the trigger halfway when-

"Stop," Bossman growled, calmer than any of the Girls would have been, putting up a hand. The big guy blinked at him before hesitantly withdrawing himself. Removing his pistol magazine, he pulled on the slide again and caught an unspent round after it was ejected. After resetting his pistol, he went back to guarding the door. "Shooting her won't do nothing anyway."

"What's going on!?" Bubbles cried in confusion.

"I can see that this ain't gonna be easy," the Bossman growled.

"Hehe, yeah. It's not gonna be easy," Junior repeated in a more high-pitched tone, adding his own twisted meaning to it.

"The two of you may leave," Slim ordered the two escorts, gesturing for them to get out. Without a word, the big guy opened the door and left, followed by the thin guy.

"Bubbles is right - what's going on here?" Blossom asked again, this time lowering her voice to avoid risking a violent confrontation.

"Yeah! We're supposed to be fighting!" Buttercup said, perhaps not unwisely so - the Amoeba Boys and Powerpuff Girls were enemies right from the start.

"You try that!" Slim exploded at Blossom. He remembered how Blossom had burned his face with her infrared beam when she first discovered it. While the Amoeba Boys were largely immune to physical strikes, heat was one of those things that could hurt them. Slim hated Blossom for reminding him of one of his Achilles' Heels. He would prefer to think that he was invincible. "I'll make sure you drown like your tomboy girlfriend over there!"

"We're sisters!" Blossom corrected him, not that she knew what 'girlfriend' meant. She just thought he meant a friend who was a girl.

"I'm going to kill you!" Buttercup took another step towards Slim, then turned around. "Can I kill them, Blossom?"

"Everyone, cool your jets!" Bossman yelled at the room, and when silence was achieved, he stubbed his cigar in his ashtray and returned to his growl. "Shooting off your guns won't do anything. Powerpuff Girls, we're here to talk business."

"Talk? You're criminals! My sister is right. Why should we talk when your friends have been hurting us? And the people in Townsville?" Blossom challenged the Amoeba Boys, pointing fingers at Slim and Junior. "Our policemen friends brought us here to fight you. I think."

Bossman seemed to smile at this. Blossom didn't think he could do that, considering that his peers on either side seemed on edge, which told her that they were probably afraid of them.

"You think? But you know nothing about that, do you?" Bossman said triumphantly. "You see, kids, your 'policemen friends' brought you here to speak to me."

"You're lying," Blossom said. "Why would they?"

"Because they know that I'm a changed man, as you'll soon find out," Bossman said with a smile. "Slim and Junior here are not my friends. They're my brothers. You and me, we ain't so different."

"Your brothers have been hurting Buttercup and me. We're not the same," Blossom denied Bossman's charge.

"They were only looking out for our… friends. You attacked them," Bossman claimed. "You would have done the same thing. I've seen you out there, through the TV. I've heard about you three through my boys' lips. Would've heard more about you if some of them don't end up dead. I've been visiting lotsa graves lately. Never had so many widows and widowers cry on my shoulders before in such a short time."

Blossom was lost for words at the loss of lives. She hated it if anyone had to die, even the criminals. Some of them weren't just criminals, she knew. It seemed that way with the Amoeba Boys' friends.

"But your friends have been doing bad things!" Blossom argued.

"Only because they were desperate," Bossman said. "They needed food on the table, and they'll get it the only way they know how. Some of them have mouths to feed, and I know how they feel. Do you? I was once there - us three brothers."

"I'm not hearing another word-" Buttercup shouted impatiently, but was cut off.

"Shh! I want to hear their story," Blossom hushed her up, then turned back to the head of the Lombardi.

"We weren't always livin' it large, so to speak. We weren't even from Townsville. We were from Italy - it's a beautiful country, rich with history, but so much of what was good became history, too, capeesh? My mother died in the troubles back then, shot by a terrorist while buying fruits in a market, back in Milan. My father brought us to Townsville, but he died of Pneumonia on the way here," Bossman recalled, his eyes a little distant, as he slumped back into his chair. Blossom couldn't help but empathize with him. She had to fight back tears while she listened, and remind herself every second that she was listening to the words of the biggest criminal in Townsville. Yet, how could she ignore this story? Which person would not want to be with his parents? "We were put in orphanages at first, but the people there… weren't exactly kind and neither were they running the show out of the kindness of their hearts. We ran away, lived on the streets, suffered starvation and sickness every other day and became one of them - those criminals you've been killing out in the streets like dogs. We had to survive somehow, and no one would take us in. But then someone… saw something in us and made us who we are. We became the Amoeba Boys, and took over the Lombardi with our gifts."

"You were forced to do bad things?" Bubbles said, her voice trembling with emotions, her eyes teary.

"We were, and it became the only thing we know after that. Come to think of it, violence and crime was something I've always witnessed ever since I was just a little boy in Italy," Bossman replied, still sounding a little sad despite the permanent growl in his voice. "It's a habit I'd like to break. Perhaps, with your help…" He directed this specifically to Blossom, whom he knew was the leader of The Powerpuff Girls, not just from the TV and various media articles, but from the presence she exuded.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Blossom questioned the man.

"You're smart, kid, I'll give you that," Bossman praised the enhanced little girl. "How about if I help you clean up Townsville? There's a small gang on the eastern side of Townsville, in and out of the slums. If you think we're mean, you should take a look at those bozos. They're like us - Italians - but they've abandoned the way. They've forgotten honor and thrown away their code. They will rape, torture and murder and do all sorts of other terrible things at the drop of a hat."

"What's rape?" Bubbles asked, but she was swiftly overshadowed by Buttercup's straightforward question.

"You want us to kill them?" Buttercup guessed with anticipation.

"Not really. Like I said, we're more alike than you think, Buttercup, Blossom, and Bubbles. We're like distant cousins caught on opposite sides of a civil war, see, because of our gifts. And like you, we don't kill unless we have to," Bossman said. Buttercup scoffed at what he said, as she didn't believe in sparing enemies. Especially when they were so much fun to mangle. Not that she could do any of that nowadays. "I can tell you where their headquarter is and when they will hold their next meeting. All I want the three of you to do is kill their leaders - help me help you."

"You said you didn't want us to kill them," Blossom said, narrowing her eyes as she studied Bossman's face instinctively, though she wasn't quite sure what she was looking for.

"I don't want you to kill off the entire gang - just the heads," Bossman corrected Blossom as he watched her every move in turn. It made Blossom nervous, being stared at that way, that she couldn't help but be a little self-conscious. All of a sudden, she didn't know what to do with her hands, and her entire body, for that matter. "If there's anyone who's to blame, it's their devil don and his evil inner circle. Don Exposito - that's his name. And wouldn't you know it, he runs the Exposito family. Kill him and his evil circle, and the rest of his men will scatter, even take up honest living, you know, and stop… er, terrorizing the common folks, as you'd say. Do we have a deal?"

Blossom could tell that Bossman seemed sincere, from how he told his story, which would have been a hard story to tell, to how he wasn't mincing words like criminals tended to. It was something she noticed about them as if criminals had everything to hide. But Bossman was different. He was laying out his cards in broad daylight, something the usual criminal wouldn't do. It'd led her to the conclusion that he wasn't a usual criminal, enhanced abilities aside. Like what the Lombardi don said, he was forced into becoming a criminal.

And Blossom decided that she would believe him.

"The clock is ticking, Blossom Utonium," Bossman said. Blossom found it odd that he knew her full name, but then again, he was an important person, and important people like Dad and General Blackwater seemed to know about everything. "Their next meeting happens to be today."

Despite her gut feeling, it would be irregular for her to help what her friends considered a criminal. Unnatural even. Yet, Dad had said that the right thing to do was often the hard thing to do. This felt like one of those times.

"The police…" Blossom muttered, unsure of what to say.

"They know about this - at least the ones who really know me as you do now. Think about it - if the police are in on this, then why should you not be?" Bossman said. How he knew what she was thinking, she wasn't sure. "I'll give you the time and address, even photos if you want. How 'bout it?" He circumvented his desk and extended his hand out - they were massive compared to hers, like a gorilla's.

Blossom walked up to him, eyes stuck to his as if with superglue. What had just happened was profound. It felt like a breakthrough, something that would define the future, even change it as she always wanted to do. She had been wishing for this very moment right from the start, when she would be given the opportunity to change things for the better, for good. She came up right next to him - something she never thought she would have done just minutes ago… and smiled.

"What are you doing?" Bossman said, confused.

"Aren't you going to pat me on the head?" Blossom said, and the three dons laughed heartily. Even Buttercup couldn't stifle a giggle, even though she didn't know what was so funny.

Bossman knelt down instead, getting down to her level - even then, he had to hunch his back to do so. He smiled at her, and he was surprisingly warm for a crime family boss. His eyes had stopped being so glaringly scrutinizing and had instead attained a friendly, 'come-on-and-let's-play' kind of look.

"No. I don't know what your 'friends' been putting in your head, but we're doing this as equals," Bossman said, before extending his hand towards her once again. Blossom finally understood then and took his hand. They shook hands after that. "You may be a kid, kiddo, but you've got what it takes to make some permanent changes around here in this town, more so than most of the adults have. No, you're going to outshine them all, kid - even this self-proclaimed 'general' Blackwater."

He'd said this with a smile.

And Blossom smiled back.


	63. Chapter 57: Past Mistakes

**Chapter 57: Past Mistakes**

**The City of Townsville. Over Downtown. En Route to the Slums.**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 0857.**

"Blossom, stop," Bubbles said to her leader sister, Blossom. They were flying over the city, towards where Bossman had said the don of the Exposito crime family was located. "Blossom, stop!"

The three of them halted in mid-air, in unison, hovering close to the clouds above.

"What?" Blossom asked. The smile on her face hadn't faded yet. Buttercup's position on this was similar. If there were any mangling and killing to be done, she was definitely in.

"I don't know about this…" Bubbles said meekly as she played with her fingers. Memories of an angry Blossom were still clear on her mind. Despite lacking the genius-level intelligence of her sisters, Bubbles had photographic memory too, even if it was flawed compared to her sisters'. "We're not supposed to kill and… I don't know about listening to the Amoeba Boys."

"He sounded like he was telling the truth," Blossom explained. "I believe him, Bubbles. Besides, haven't we all done some bad things?"

"But-" Bubbles wanted to explain herself, only to be overridden by Blossom.

"Buttercup's been killing people, and yet Dad gave her another chance to fight crime with us," Blossom said. Buttercup folded her arms and pouted at the mention of her past 'misdeeds'. She still didn't think she had done anything wrong. In fact, she thought her sisters were stupid for not seeing the simple truth – criminals should be killed, plain and simple. It didn't matter if they died slowly since they were going to die anyway – why not try to have fun with them along the way? "It's how we learn. We make mistakes - that's what Dad's been telling us. Dad gave Buttercup a chance and-"

"But that's different!" Bubbles argued, accidentally interrupting Blossom in her haste, which annoyed her.

"But nothing, Bubbles! We don't have time to argue!" Blossom dismissed her reasoning before continuing to fly. It didn't take long for Bubbles to pull her to a stop once again, and the team stopped as a whole. "What now?"

"Are we really going to kill Mister Exposito? And his friends?" Bubbles asked. Still horrified by her own actions under the influence of His Secret 2.0, Bubbles wanted to avoid doing the same dark, evil deeds all over again, even if it seemed justified now. "We really shouldn't…"

"Didn't you hear what Mister Bossman said? They're the meanest criminals in Townsville," Blossom said, though what Bubbles had been pointing to all this while had reminded her of her own rules. It'd made her think second thoughts about killing. Killing would mean going against Dad - but what if they were killing killers? "We'll visit them and see for ourselves what kind of people they are. Maybe we could talk to them. But if they really are what Mister Bossman said they are, we have to kill them."

"But something's wrong - we shouldn't listen to the Amoeba Boys! You're wrong about this!" Bubbles insisted though she wasn't able to describe what she meant. She herself couldn't understand it. It was a feeling, albeit a strong one at that. Bubbles had, again, ticked Blossom off. She didn't like being told that she was wrong, especially with something she felt strongly about, and deep down, it was worse when it was coming from Bubbles.

"If what you said is right, then why should I listen to you!?" Blossom retorted back at Bubbles, burying her finger in her shoulder. "You were a criminal just a few days ago! Remember how you attacked all of us, just for some injections!?"

Bubbles was shocked. Blossom hadn't blown up on her for a while now, and the things she said had cut her to the core. Something stirred inside Bubbles, a kind of rage not exclusive to His Secret 2.0, but something that it set loose from within her. But she held it back, afraid of what it might do.

"Are you going BerXerk on us again?" Buttercup asked, more out of spite than concern.

Bubbles knew not to blow up – she had seen the extreme result of it. The rage in her blew over, giving way to something else – something more familiar. Bursting into tears, Bubbles flew away. In a blink of an eye, she had disappeared into an apartment building, but Blossom was quick enough to see where she was going.

"Oh come on!" Buttercup exclaimed in frustration. "Not again! We have bad guys to beat up!"

Blossom stared after Bubbles' baby blue X-contrail. As her own anger simmered off, she began to realize, with creeping horror, that what she said might not be the widest words.

"Should we just leave her behind?" Buttercup suggested.

"No!" Blossom balked at such a suggestion. Hadn't Buttercup learned anything yet? "We can't leave each other behind! Let's go."

With that, she sped after Bubbles. After sighing and muttering to herself (something about Blossom and Bubbles being stupid), Buttercup followed.

It wasn't hard to track Bubbles down. The apartment building they had flown into wasn't the cleanest. Boxes and various odds and ends were knocked over in Bubbles' retreat. A door was knocked off its hinges. When Blossom and Buttercup entered the apartment Bubbles had invaded for her hiding spot, they could hear her crying from across the entire living space.

They found her in a closet, squeezed in a corner, crying into the wallpaper for lack of a shoulder.

"Go away!" Bubbles cried when they found her.

"I didn't mean it, Bubbles," Blossom said. "I just want to do good, and I have a good feeling about this and Bossman."

All she got for a reply were sniffles and weeping. Blossom nudged Buttercup for her to say something. They argued silently about what they should do until Buttercup finally relented because she wanted that sweet, sweet release whenever she indulged in violence. But there was something else.

"Bubbles…" Buttercup started, feeling a strange sensation in her. It wasn't the first time. It was as if unnatural emotions, very strong emotions, were leaking into her from the ether. "We're a team, and we can't do it without you. You're getting good at this, and I want to see you fight crime again."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Bubbles cried into the wall, still. "I remember last week - I've killed so many, and I don't wanna start again!"

"You don't have to kill them if you don't want to," Blossom negotiated with her. "But we still need you."

Bubbles kept quiet after that, contemplating what they had said. Despite Blossom's promise that she would not need to do any killing, it still felt wrong somehow to aid her sisters in doing the deed.

"Bubbles…" Blossom pleaded with her. "Come on."

"Fine…" Bubbles finally relented. "Just don't make me kill anyone. We should talk to them… Just like how we did it with Mister Lumpkins."

"We're sisters. You can trust me," Blossom said, though she had reservations about using the same tactic as she did with Lumpkins. She was scolded for it, and she didn't want more harsh criticisms again. Before she could say anything further, their radio crackled, and a voice came through.

"This is Flight Control Five to Bravo-Four-Seven, please explain the deviation from the current course," the woman from Flight Control Five questioned them through the radio. Then, as if remembering that the Girls' vocabulary was simple, elaborated further: "Why did you stop? Over."

"Hi Miss Flight Control Five, Bubbles' resting - she's tired from flying," Blossom said, all while exchanging a knowing look with the tearful Bubbles. When she was done, there was radio silence for a time before the woman on the other end resumed their conversation again. Blossom could only wonder what she was thinking - in fact, Blossom had to wonder about everything to do with the Flight Control people. She had never met them in person nor been to their workplace before. She still couldn't understand how they could track them so well.

"Bravo-Four-Seven, please confirm your destination - where you're going, over," the woman in Flight Control Five asked.

"We're going to fight some bad guys in the Slums for the police, Miss Flight Control Five," Blossom said, taking care not to mention the Lombardi as Bossman cautioned her not to. He'd warned her that revealing their meeting would destroy any chance he could help her clean up Townsville, and by extension, make amends for his past. "The Exposito family, miss."

In the midst of it all, Blossom could not understand why the Lombardi and the Exposito refer to themselves as families - it couldn't be that they were all brothers and sisters, were there? Mothers couldn't give birth to dozens of children, could they? She believed that they wouldn't all be able to fit inside the mother, not that she knew exactly how human gestation and giving birth worked exactly.

There was an even longer silence after that. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute. It went over that, and still, nothing but static and the occasional and curt 'please standby' continued to ground them.

"What's taking them!? I want a good fight!" Buttercup exclaimed impatiently. Blossom wasn't as incredulous about flight control's sluggishness. A nagging feeling in her told her that she was doing something wrong - but it was a feeling common in her, something she felt half the time. Yet, it was stronger now, made worse by the anxiety Flight Control Five was giving her by taking its time.

"Flight Control Five. You are cleared to conduct the raid for the police. Please proceed to your destination without stopping. Over and out," and with that, the invisible lady on the radio waves was gone.

Blossom breathed a sigh a relief. It turned out she wasn't wrong to do this after all. How could she ever be? Especially when she had the backing of the police, and now the USDO?

The following is a document addressed to Director Cliff of USDO administration.

* * *

**Title: The Powerpuff Girls Combat Analysis And The Place of B-50**

**Created by: General Blackwater**

**Date Created: 24 FEB (Friday) 1989.**

Desc: In order to understand what kind of demands we can and should place on B-50, we must learn from our past experiences with B-47, B-48, and B-49, now known as The Powerpuff Girls. This is so that we may train B-50 appropriately for what lies ahead. To this end, I have gone through all related data sets, including video and audio recordings, documents both physical and electronic and conducted quick phone interviews with personnel involved with B-47, B-48, B-49, and B-50.

Despite B-47, B-48 and B-49 being a mixed success at best and a total failure at worst, the circumstances and their performance leading to this conclusion ought to be explored for the sake of B-50, being that B-47 to B-49 are predecessors to B-50.

From the day of their creation, B-47, 48 and 49 have been tended to by Professor Utonium. Based on USDO common knowledge and data surrounding him, it can safely be said that he had given them a civilian upbringing, and continues to do so, and it is not until the insertion of Sergeant Selicia Goodwin in the 'Utonium family' 17 days after their creation that any meaningful progress has been made towards preparing B-47, B-48, and B-49 for their main purpose.

While Sergeant Selicia's efforts in training B-47, B-48 and B-49 and the tolerance she displays towards them are admirable, especially considering her history with enhanced individuals, her efforts continue to yield limited results. The Powerpuff Girls continue to blunder in every mission. The most telling of their flaws lie in their lack of tactics and cunning. Based on Professor Utonium's notes, this could be due to the 'neurological structure' of their brains, which is the equivalent of five-year-olds, worsened by their inexperience. What is worse is that there is no solution to this as yet.

Furthermore, their inclinations in combat have left them unable to fulfill the USDO's expectations. Project Powerpuff's main objective is to create super-soldiers, and in the USDO, part of that definition includes a mastery of tactics, stealth, subterfuge, and infiltration. None of The Powerpuff Girls are capable of any of that, nor do they display any potential for the more shadowy arts. The best analogy I can come up with is that they seem to act more like common foot soldiers than the special force we need. Below is a rough breakdown of their role, such as it is-

B-47 (Blossom)

Roles: Commander, Multi-Role (Combat)

Description: B-47, or Blossom, appears to be well-suited for command - at least more so than her 'sisters'. She appears to display more initiative and presence than B-48 and B-49. However, her tactical inability, simplicity, and inflexibility leaves her performance as the Powerpuff Girls' ad-hoc commanding officer wanting. Otherwise, she appears to be the most versatile of the three in combat, capable in any field, but thankfully, B-48 and B-49 are not entirely eclipsed. She is reportedly more skilled in unarmed combat than her sister products (though not as strong as B-48), learns faster, and has enhanced abilities that even I wish I have (enhanced eyesight, up to 40x zoom).

B-48 (Buttercup)

Roles: Heavy Support, Conventional Firearms

Description: B-48, or Buttercup, is brutal in nature and reported to be clinically psychopathic, which appears to augment her function as the heavy-hitter of the trio. She is the best of the three in handling firearms and favors heavy weapons such as machine guns, and would rather just charge in and dole out as much damage as she can. It is simple but effective. Unfortunately, her simple-minded bloodlust tends to blind her as well. Her ability to fire deadly laser from her eyes that could cut through even steel further adds to her 'heavy support role'.

B-49 (Bubbles)

Roles: Light Support, Combat Medic

Description: B-49, or Bubbles, remains the least useful of the three. It is only in recent days (read: this week) that she has shown any potential in combat, not counting the previous week in which she injured half the PTF stationed outside The House, as well as caused needless collateral damage. Her niche - however small it is - is in performing functions B-47 and B-48 neither could nor want to. Her more useful skill is in first-aid, though that is not saying much. Her niche in a full support role is further enhanced by her 'ion beam', recently learned, that Professor Utonium has just discovered to be capable of disrupting electronics - teaching them to utilize this feature consistently is another challenge in and of itself. Her sonic scream is useful for its suppression effect. Recent footages of her battles on site seem to suggest that she is faster than her sisters - this can be useful whenever she acts as a distraction, vanguard or scout - not that B-47, B-48, and B-49 knows of such terms.

It is my recommendation that we avoid the obvious pitfalls that might have resulted in B-47, B-48 and B-49's failure to deliver results and secure even basic objectives reliably.

Assuming control of B-40 mere days into her creation is just the first step. But it should not end there. If Professor Utonium's data is to be trusted, we have a bioweapon which is capable of even more and it wouldn't be an efficient use of USDO resources to let it go to waste or be tampered with by a delusional mind who cares only to replace his personal losses years ago.

Where the Powerpuff Girls serve as foot soldiers (poorly, may I reiterate), B-50, which the good professor (or worse, B-49) has so improperly named 'Bunny', will serve as the black ops agent we sorely need.

To this end, we will need to undo whatever damage Professor Utonium has done and will do in the initial 3 days of her existence what he's failed to do in 3 months. We will need to train her intensely. We will need to hold a special conference to decide on the contents of her black ops crash course and how to execute it. However, for now, I believe we will need to dedicate a substantial amount of time to educate her about her enemies as well as 'correct' her perspective to improve her willingness to kill and carry out her missions. We will also need to teach her about the art of war as much as we can. These are just as important as firearms training – the results of a lack in these areas are evident in The Powerpuff Girls' ineptitude.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Slums. Exposito Family Headquarters**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 0911.**

It was obvious to the Powerpuff Girls when they flew into the Slums. There was a huge gap of no man's land between the Slums and the cleaner side of Townsville. Police officers could be found guarding roads leading into the Slums, though how effective they were in restricting the movement of criminals was another matter entirely.

The buildings in the Slums were run-down, dark and dirty little things, crumbling, blackened and filled with trash. Even whatever apartments that were still standing there were short, with some of them shorter than they used to be. Blossom could spot an apartment with its top floor blasted apart with some explosives. How it happened was a fact lost to time. There were holes everywhere, like a Trypophobe's nightmare.

It wasn't hard to imagine that a criminal gang would operate in such an area.

The Girls flew low to avoid detection, but there were already eyes on them - people on the streets, or in buildings, had already seen them. Whether any of them had any loyalties to the Exposito Family remained to be seen. Heading towards the building - a dilapidated apartment building completely co-opted by the criminals, they flew vertically upwards before touching down on the rooftop.

Important men loved to be on the top floor. It was the same with Don Exposito. Shrugging off her flight pack and putting it down on the floor, Blossom pulled out the photos Don Bossman had given to her from a magazine pouch. There were several of them. The don himself and his lieutenants. He had just a few. The crime family wasn't the biggest one, though they had carved out a sizable turf in the Slums and certain areas near it for themselves. Bossman had gone on to talk at length about them after Blossom had agreed to act on his information.

The Exposito crime family was headquartered in the Slums because the police wouldn't go there, fearing for their lives. While the inhabitants of the Slums were fiercely protective of themselves and tended to lash out at any interlopers, the Expositos had struck fear in them by routinely abducting a few of them at a time for their own purposes. The border police guards between the Slums and the rest of Townsville were paid off by them so that they could export drugs, illegal weapons and prostitutes and bring in whatever necessities they needed, and the cash proceeds from their sales.

Looking at the photos of the criminal masterminds, Blossom crumbled them up before tearing them to pieces and letting the wind take the shreds. Bossman had talked at length, too, about what they would do to their prisoners, especially when they were women and children. Getting sold as slaves was a blessing compared to their fate with the Expositos.

"Let's do this," Blossom said curtly to her sisters before marching towards the stairs leading down.

"Finally," Buttercup said; she could taste it now - the rush of combat and even a chance to start messing some criminals up!

"We're really going to talk to them first, right?" Bubbles asked, even though she knew the answer to that question. Neither of her sisters had answered her. The Girls drew their weapons. Blossom had brought her MP5, while Buttercup had borrowed Bubbles' stockless XM4 carbine. Bubbles was using the Serbu Super Shorty that Blossom had given her.

The stairs led down to a corridor door. The wooden floor was slick in places with mold. They had to kick aside discarded cans, cigarette packets and junk one too many times. It was a wonder that the bare bulbs above could still shine yellow light down on them. They could hear murmuring coming from one of the apartment units on the top floor. There were double doors. Bossman's description was accurate. Don Exposito and his lieutenants were holed up in the penthouse suite. A natural choice. Obvious. And it would be their undoing.

Blossom crossed over to the left side of the doors while Bubbles and Buttercup remained on the right. She raised a hand, putting up three fingers before curling them up one after the other, following the seconds of a clock. Buttercup knew what it meant and braced herself. Bubbles, however, knew it only vaguely.

At zero, Blossom barged through the door, followed by Buttercup and finally Bubbles. They had taken out two guards on either side of the doors this way. Flying to the center of the penthouse living room, they hovered close to Don Exposito and about eight other men. There were a few women, even a couple of children sitting in corner seats. They barely had time to react, with some of them jumping in their seats while others to their feet, though when they realized who they were up against, they didn't draw their weapons immediately.

Blossom stared at one face after another, until she found the one she was looking for. Graying hair combed to near perfection, dark-colored eyes with huge, swollen purple bags underneath, wrinkles way before their time. Blossom thought his appearance fit the profile of a crazed, morally-bankrupt criminal very well.

"Mister Exposito?" Blossom said.

"Who the f-fuck are you?" the man answered. His nerves seemed broken from the way he was staring wildly at them. He should have known who they were by now. "And what gave you the God-damn right to come in here like you own the place!?"

"Language, Mister Expy," Buttercup warned the man, raising her carbine at him. It got him to behave pretty well.

"We would like to talk to you," Bubbles mumbled to her. If it wasn't for the tense silence, no one would have heard her. The crime family don looked around him; sweat pouring down his forehead. Blossom thought he didn't look like much of a leader. Behind him, two women were hugging their children closely, one a boy and one a girl. The rest of them were horrified. The leader of the three couldn't decide if they were prisoners or part of the family. They were dressed well, but what Bossman had said was still on the surface of Blossom's mind.

"What're you waiting for!? Shoot the bitches!" Don Exposito ordered quite suddenly, breaking the tension only for the room to explode as men raised their guns - shotguns, revolvers, and pistols - and peppered the Powerpuff Girls with bullets. Bubbles brought up her baby-blue bubble shield. Blossom and Buttercup returned fire, the former girl shooting one of them in the leg while the latter was less merciful.

"Don't kill them yet!" Blossom ordered before swooping in at the gangsters, punching one across the cheek before swiping at another with the plastic forestock of her MP5, knocking both of them off their feet and unconscious. Buttercup charged into one, who fell on top of the conference table and slide across the length of it, before speeding up to another behind him and giving him a jaw-breaking snap of her fist. Women and children were screaming in the background. It'd upset Bubbles, and in seeking a quick end to this, pounced on top of Don Exposito even while he was shooting off his revolver at her and knocked him down. Tearing his revolver away from him, she threw it aside and held him down by his upper arms.

"Don't, or they'll hurt you!" Bubbles warned the don sincerely. All around her, his men were being taken down one after another. They couldn't even last a minute, and soon enough, silence returned to the room.

When the fight was over, anticlimactic as it was, Blossom and Buttercup stood side-by-side on the Exposito conference table and surveyed their work. Every gangster in the room was on the floor, either knocked out or in too much pain to get up. Only one of them was killed - thanks to Buttercup. Blossom glared at her from a corner of her eyes because of it but decided to let it go since they came here knowing that there was a strong possibility of someone dying.

The women and children were huddled in various corners of the room. Bubbles was helping Don Exposito up just as Blossom turned to look at her.

"Good work, Bubbles," Blossom said to her meekest sister. She thought she needed encouragement. She then turned to her other sister: "Buttercup, put all the bad guys in that corner-" she pointed at the furthest end of the room, where there were no doors and windows for the Exposito men to escape through. Bubbles, put Mister Exposito with them, and move the women and kids out of the way."

The Girls got to work, lining up the gangsters along the breadth of the penthouse living room. One of them tried to escape, so Blossom had to dissuade him with her heat beam, burning up the carpet at his feet before having to put the fire out. Bubbles was gentle with Don Exposito - neither of her sisters understood why, as they thought the criminal mastermind did not deserve the treatment. After that, Bubbles would lead the few ladies in attendance by hand away from the men, some of whom declined to be touched by a 'monster', as the bravest of the ladies called her.

"Now… Bubbles is right. I want to talk to you first," Blossom said to Don Exposito as he was kneeling on the ground, before jumping off the conference table. It was strange. She didn't order the criminals to kneel or sit, but as they were coming to, they would do so. Buttercup was still flanking Blossom, XM4 Carbine still in her tiny hands, looking like a heavy machinegun in proportion to her. Some of the men were looking at her as if she was multiple times larger.

"What is there to talk about? We are criminals, and you are here to arrest us. I recognize your gear, even if they're small, and I remember who you are now. You're USDO," the don said.

"Oh no, I'm Blossom," the leader of the Powerpuff Girls said. She then waved a hand at Buttercup. "And this is Buttercup." She then pointed to Bubbles, who came up to her left after ushering the women and children to the other end of the penthouse living room. "And this is Bubbles."

"Well, 'Blossom', nothin's changed. There's nothing to talk about. Just get it over with and throw us into the slammer," Don Exposito said. Jail was the best he could hope for. He'd heard things about The Powerpuff Girls. How ruthless they could be. He heard that they had already killed dozens of cultists and many of his sort. It was ironic that they appeared like perfect little girls.

"Is it true that you're the meanest bad guy of Townsville?" Blossom questioned the man regardless of his willingness.

"That depends on who's asking," the don said. "Is it really just you? Or someone else? I am a hundred different things to a hundred different people."

Blossom tilted her head, deep in thought, having difficulty understanding Exposito's poetic reply. Her sisters weren't even trying. To Buttercup, Blossom was talking to a dead man. To Bubbles, this was all a misunderstanding and a mistake right from the start - and she didn't even trust Bossman to begin with.

"Is it true that you'll 'rape, torture and murder and do all sorts of other terrible things at the drop of a hat'?" Blossom quoted Bossman, tightening her grip on her MP5. Don Exposito's eyes seemed to widen at the accusation, as though offended.

"Who said that!?" Don Exposito exploded upon hearing it. "Little girl, who the fuck told you that!?"

"If they're even little girls…" one of his men muttered. Three pairs of glowing eyes stared him down into silence. Blossom considered the don's aggressive questions. She didn't like how he just yelled at her. It was rude. Not to mention his profuse swearing was getting on her nerves. Overall, she thought Bossman was right in every way about Don Exposito.

"The Amoeba Boys told me that," Blossom revealed. The don's eyes grew even wider, his face red with rage.

"Traitors!" the don yelled, though what he meant was lost on the Girls. "It's a fuckin' lie! I don't rape and neither does the rest of my family!"

"I said, LANGUAGE!" Buttercup bellowed at the head of the crime family, pointing her gun at him again. Blossom crossed her arms, huddling her MP5 closely. She really didn't like the man and thought that he was a big, fat liar. The way he spoke just gave it away. It had to. Who would talk like that? Curse that way? Unless he's guilty of something?

"You don't torture or murder, do you? Mister Expy?" Bubbles asked her own questions, feeling a little sorry for the man. Looking at how things had happened, she couldn't help but feel that this time around, she and her sisters were the villains here. It was entirely possible - she had made mistakes in the past too. They had barged into their home, killed a man and injured the rest, all in front of two children and possibly their wives or women who were related to them in other ways. "Please, tell Blossom you don't!"

Don Exposito regarded Bubbles for a moment as he weighed her words, his eyelids drooping a little, as though sensing that all hope was lost.

"Since the three of you are already here, it means I'm marked anyway. Doesn't matter if it's the USDO or Lombardi," the don said, his voice lowered in volume to a sigh. His change in attitude was stark. "Might as well spill the beans. Murder and torture are part of the business. But we don't do it unless we had to - and we absolutely do not rape. Don Ricci is a fucking liar!"

"I still don't understand what rape is," Bubbles said, eyes wandering to her sisters.

"Don't look at me," Buttercup said while shrugging her shoulders. But their attention soon returned to their leader sister, who was glaring intently at Don Exposito.

"How many people did you kill? How many people have you hurt?" Blossom asked. Her hands were tightening around the handle and fore-end of her MP5 that the plastic was creaking.

"I… lost count. I've spilled blood dozens of times. Over a hundred, even," the don said while straightening his back defiantly, such that he became taller than Blossom even while he was on his knees. He glared back at Blossom. "Who the fuck are you to judge, little girl!? Look at where we're living in! It's kill or be killed! I kill to defend my turf! My family! My fortune - what tiny bit we eked out! Fuck do you know!?" He spat a glob of saliva at Blossom's feet. She stepped back, but some of it had still gotten onto her boots. She was starting to really hate the man. He was uncouth, and now he had confessed to killing over a hundred. OVER A HUNDRED. She'd decided then, that he was likely lying about the rape part too - while she didn't understand what rape meant, she knew it was something bad, and it was the lying and bad attitude that offended her.

Blossom could feel her heart beating hard. The blood rushing through her veins. All sorts of violent scenes replayed in her head from the past. Her rage returned with a vengeance, and she felt like destroying everyone and anyone on the spot then. She tried her best to control it, letting go of her MP5 and letting it hang on her neck. She tried her best…

And then she drew her pistol and shot Don Exposito cleanly through the forehead, splattering blood and gray matter behind him and onto the wall.


	64. Chapter 58: Lies

**Chapter 58: Lies**

**The City of Townsville. The Slums. Exposito Family Headquarters**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 0923.**

Blossom did not stop when Don Exposito had fallen over, dead at an instant from a gunshot to the head. Blossom turned her gun on his lieutenants, falling them the same way she did with their leader. When a few more bodies hit the floor, the others tried to flee, but Buttercup blocked the exit and mowed them down with a combination of her XM4 Carbine and laser eye beams. Some of the men were either beheaded or bisected haphazardly. The wooden floor was awash with blood. The women and children screamed in shock and horror as she did, and didn't stop after all the men were killed. Bubbles, however, did nothing. Taken by surprise, she couldn't stop her sisters.

When it was all over, Blossom holstered her pistol and turned around to look at the women in the room. She had decided that they were part of the crime family. Flying closer to them, she thought about killing them too. But the way they look – with their dresses and faces, pale from shock, suggested that they had little to do with the Exposito atrocities. Still, Blossom contemplated killing them just to be safe, her fingers caressing her pistol as she did.

"Blossom, no!" Bubbles flew between her and the women, putting her arms out while she shielded them. The wives of the Expositos cowered in their corner, the ones with children were still covering their eyes. "You can't kill them too!"

Blossom turned her gaze on Bubbles. There was murder in her eyes. Bubbles had never seen her that way before - she was likely roused from Don Exposito's admission of guilt. But as Blossom processed what she said, and saw who was left to kill, the rage in her face dissipated. Her hand had gone up to the handle of her SMG, but she let go of it.

"I… wasn't going to," Blossom said, even though she knew that she had considered killing the women too.

"Aw, man," Buttercup exclaimed, disappointed. She thought she'd get to kill a few more people. "Then what do we do now?"

"Let's go," Blossom said coldly as she regarded the survivors in the room. "We've killed the meanest bad guys in Townsville and saved the day. There's nothing left to do."

With that, Blossom flew out the doors they barged through. Buttercup sighed before following. Bubbles looked at the remaining population in the penthouse before doing so; the women and children still looked shocked and wretched. Almost all of them were weeping or crying, and she empathized with them.

"I'm sorry about your friends," Bubbles said to them before taking steps forward to give herself a running start in flight.

"They weren't friends! They were family! FAMILY!" one of the women wailed as she was crying. Knowing that there was nothing she could say to comfort the mafia wives and relatives, Bubbles flew off, disturbed severely by what had just transpired. She still found herself wondering who was telling the truth - Bossman or Don Exposito, and which part was the truth. Stuff like that always made her head hurt. Why couldn't people just be honest?

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 1838.**

"Bunny on bike!" Bunny squealed excitedly as Professor Utonium was leading her along the pavement outside their home while she was seated on a young girl's bicycle. With the snow thin enough on the sidewalk, the professor thought that it was the perfect time to teach Bunny how to ride a bicycle. Seeing the bicycle in the mall while they were shopping had given him the idea. Considering that Bunny had mastered walking really quickly, and running not too far behind, he believed it time that he introduced her to biking - besides, it might teach her a better sense of balance sooner. She would need it, considering how General Blackwater was very hasty in appropriating her for his own uses… "Bunny loves bike!"

"You're doing great, Bunny!" the professor encouraged his fourth daughter.

"Woo-hoo! You're absolutely flying, Bunny!" Selicia shouted from the lawn. She had been watching Dad and daughter having their moment.

Bunny was a natural. The moment she was introduced to her bicycle and shown how it worked, she knew exactly how to work it. The professor understood why. With normal children, remembering things was a feat on its own, a skill to be mastered. It was not so with Bunny. Furthermore, physical fitness was never a concern, and so all that remained to be trained was muscle coordination.

The bicycle Bunny was pedaling fitted the Girl pretty well. It was purple, with similarly-colored tassels on the ends of the handles. 'Power' was written on the bar just below the seat, in pink. Bunny herself was wearing a purple dress, which was of the same design as her elder siblings', with a black sash at the waist, and like them, she was wearing a matching jacket over it, and winter boots over white pantyhose and black Mary-Janes. She would have blended in very well as a normal 8-year-old, had it not been for her glowing purple eyes and prodigious size and pretty well-toned muscles. She looked like she had been going to the gym twice a day, every day, way before the age a girl should, and she was just two days old.

It was at this time that three lines of pink, baby blue, and lime green streaked across the sky and towards them. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup was finally done with fighting crime for the day. They descended down next to Professor Utonium and their younger sister, hovering in place as they watched the new development with the newest addition to the family.

They couldn't believe their eyes. They simply couldn't, and not in a good way either. They had seen parents teaching their kids how to ride bicycles in the park and were hoping one day for their own Dad to do the same with them. None of them had asked for it, being too busy with everything that had happened ever since jumping down the rabbit hole with fighting crime for Townsville.

And Bunny got to do just that with Dad on her second day with him.

"Hey Dad," Blossom greeted her father as she flew up next to him. Bubbles and Buttercup were speechless on either side of her, their mouth agape at the luxury Bunny was given. Professor Utonium didn't acknowledge her immediately.

"Yeah that's it, keep it in the center," he said to Bunny, still pulling her up behind him by the bicycle handle. The elder Powerpuff Girls had to trail behind them all the while. "My, using your X-thrust already?" By this, he meant the faint purple light emanation, barely visible, coming out of either flank of Bunny whenever she needed to balance herself. She was able to keep herself upright just by doing this, despite the slow speed.

"Oh hey, Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup," the professor finally deigned to speak to them, but the Girls' feelings were already hurt, not that they let him know, nor did the professor noticed any signs of this while he was busy teaching Bunny how to ride a bike. "Look at the great strides Bunny's been making! She's riding a bike now!"

It was unfair, all of it.

"Bunny loves bike!" Bunny squealed again in her low voice, which Blossom and Buttercup each independently thought was annoying, especially considering the unfairness of it all. Bunny then turned to them. "Bunny loves Blossom, Buttercup, Bubbles!" Despite Bunny meaning well, Blossom and Buttercup each independently thought it was a slap in the face that they were second to a bicycle.

"But Dad! Why didn't you get us all bicycles too?" Blossom objected. The professor's focus, however, had returned to Bunny. He was pulling her forward faster. Blossom was upset, but it was lost on him. "We could have learned how to ride bikes in a day too!"

"Come to think of it, the thought did cross my mind," the professor reminisced about it with a smile plastered on his face, one that Blossom was shocked herself to find that it annoyed her too. "But you know how it was - those were dark times back then, and by the time I decided that I would do just that, why, the three of you started flying all over the place. I don't think you three need bikes when you can fly, right?"

"Can't Bunny run as fast as us?" Bubbles asked, though without the same tone as Blossom.

"Why yes, definitely - but she'll be faster on a bicycle, I believe," Professor Utonium said, his attention, once again, split between Bunny and the original three. "Hmm… wear and tear might be a problem for the bicycle. Ah well, I guess I'll just have to buy loads of spare parts, crates of them! Maybe even a few backup bicycles!"

A few backup bicycles. If the fact that Bunny had her own bicycle hadn't stirred some jealousy in the elder Girls, it had now. Only Bubbles was immune to this.

The professor and the Girls - all four of them - had reached the far end of their only neighbor's house by then. On the porch, Mister Smith, the father, and husband of the neighboring household had been enjoying a bottle of whiskey when he saw them. The man, whom they couldn't really get to know, swiftly disappeared into his house upon seeing them.

From there, the professor helped Bunny make a U-turn on the pavement.

"It's been a long day fighting crime, Dad," Blossom said, painfully aware that the professor hadn't asked about it.

"Now, Bunny, why don't you try cycling on your own from here?" the professor instructed the fourth Powerpuff Girl instead, and it'd rubbed Blossom the wrong way. Bubbles felt it too - for her, it'd been a long day, but in a different way. It wasn't just long. It was brutal, considering what had happened with Blossom, and what it meant. When Bunny took off, the professor still hadn't turned to his original three creations. "I'm sorry, you were saying something, Blossom?"

Blossom had to repeat herself, while at the same time trying not to shout or break into tears.

"Ah, I see - how is it?" the professor asked generically, something that made Blossom and Buttercup felt like they weren't special anymore. Again, Bubbles felt this one too.

Blossom had to pause. To pile on one flaming wreck on top of another, there was nothing good she could tell her Dad. The only positive thing to come out of it was that it was a distraction from the fact that Bunny had usurped their place in the professor's life.

Buttercup stared at Blossom, afraid that she would tell Dad everything about what they had done to the Exposito family today. They had killed nine men today, all on the word of another criminal on the helm of an even larger crime family.

"It was terrible, Dad. I'm tired of seeing people hurting each other…" Blossom opened herself out as she recounted, with perfect clarity, the day's activities. On top of killing Don Exposito and a few of his underboss, and allowing Buttercup to kill when she shouldn't, they had to stop a skirmish between two gangs in a turf dispute in the Tenements, witnessing wanton collateral damage that resulted in huge casualties. Bystanders were hurt. There was a suicide bombing perpetrated by a disgruntled and depressed national guardsman, and again, many innocents were hurt and killed as a result. When they arrived on the scene, he was already dangerously unstable, and they couldn't talk him down from killing himself and blowing up a grocery store that he alleged was a criminal enterprise, a front for mob activity. "It's bad in the city, Dad. A lot of people died today - and… and they were hurt, and really sad…"

If Buttercup was sitting down, she would have been on the edge of her seat. It sounded as if Blossom might spill everything, and then she would be back on the Duranium table, with all her powers drained. It was terrible, getting disempowered - the lethargy, the sense of powerlessness, the feeling of sickness and the suicidal contemplation weren't things she would look forward to.

Instead, Blossom broke into tears, losing the Duranium-hard exterior and melting quickly into pudding, unable to take it anymore - there were just too many things as if Bunny monopolizing Dad's attention and love - with zero effort on Bunny's part - wasn't bad enough. It was only then that - finally - the Dad took notice.

"Blossom! God, I'm so sorry - I didn't mean to ignore you," Professor Utonium said as he gave Blossom a one-armed hug. "It's just… a lot of things. Come here, the three of you." Bubbles and Buttercup joined in. The professor stared into the distance, where Bunny had just reached. She was learning everything so fast, and he had so little time with her before General Blackwater would spirit her away to be turned into another child soldier.

That was what the professor explained when he brought the Girls inside and sat them down for a family discussion with Selicia and Bunny present too.

"So you see, Girls, that is why I've been spending so much time with her," the professor ended off his explanation, before continuing, with the Girls sitting in the long couch on his right - he was on the one-man easy couch. Bunny was sitting in Selicia's lap, opposite him. He leaned back, but the comfort his top-grade furniture provided did little to ease the burden on his shoulders. "She'll be going away for training the day after tomorrow. In half a week after that, she'll be fighting crime, just like the three of you. But if she does it well enough, the three of you might not need to do that as often as before. It's what I promised the three of you - your way out." He turned to Bubbles specifically. "Remember what I said, Bubbles? Before the cinema, when you couldn't take it anymore?"

"Yes…" Bubbles admitted sadly, begrudgingly.

"But…" Blossom wanted to say something, only for her voice to trail off.

"Isn't this what you want?" the professor said. "Blossom?"

Blossom was unsure of herself. She was glad to help the people of Townsville fight crime. Whenever she had saved a life, or successfully root out crime at one spot, she would feel proud of herself. Yet she knew what it would mean if Bunny were to go away for training and law enforcement operations after that. She would have Dad all to herself - more so if the burden of fighting crime was lifted off her. Furthermore, she wouldn't have to decide the life and death of anyone anymore, criminal or otherwise. Her killing of Don Exposito and his inner circle had weighed unexpectedly heavy on her.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't realize she was raising an eyebrow, screwing her face up as she zoomed through the neurons of her brain.

"Blossom?" the professor called out to her, snapping her attention back to the material plane. "Is there something you want to tell me? You look preoccupied with something."

Buttercup was back to staring at Blossom again, with those penetrative eyes of hers. Blossom returned the look, before turning back to the professor.

"No, Dad," Blossom lied. "I'm just tired…"

"Well, sorry again," Professor Utonium replied. "I didn't mean to detain you right after your operations. Why don't the three of you go up and peel off those dreadful Kevlar and I'll be right with you. I gotta fire up the dinner with your Mom first."

Without another word, Blossom hovered up to the second floor, with Buttercup following behind her. Bubbles, however, floated up next to Bunny before giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Grow up fast, Bunny," Bubbles said to her lovingly and smiled bitterly. Unknown to Bunny and even their adoptive parents, her words were weighted more heavily than they could ever think.

"Bunny grow!" the fourth sister exclaimed, oblivious to the darkness all around her.

"Get going, Bubbles," Selicia said to Bubbles sternly, reminding her that her own Mom hated her now, and with good reason. With that, she hovered up after Blossom and Buttercup.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**24 FEB (Friday) 1989. 1852.**

Blossom shook herself like a wet dog getting rid of water in its fur. Bullets tinkled out of her armor and uniform. She then proceeded to remove her gear. More expended rounds for the bullet jar.

"Blossom?" Buttercup said while she was sitting in bed. She had torn off her gear faster while Blossom was still thinking about what had been communicated between her and her Dad (and what hadn't been talked about).

"What?" Blossom answered.

"Why didn't you tell Dad about Mister Exposito and his friends?" Buttercup asked. "Or the Amoeba Boys?"

Blossom took even more time to think about things. But it was fairly straightforward, such that there was little to think about - just that she couldn't accept her own deeds, her own decisions as what they were. If nothing else, Buttercup didn't look as bad as she was before.

"He wouldn't understand," Blossom said. "But it had to be done. We had to kill them. You know that, right? Buttercup?"

Buttercup smiled at Blossom - but it wasn't the kind of satisfying, happy kind of smile. It had a certain vibe to it. The smile was a sly one, a wicked one.

"I know, Blossom," Buttercup said. "I know."

It was a secret victory for Buttercup. She got to kill and maim again, and with Blossom becoming more like her when she least expected it, there might be more opportunities to do so, without the same risk of exposure.

"It's hard," Blossom broke into tears again. She quickly hid her face, but her sniffles and uncontrollable weeping could still be heard, easily. There and then, she knew she had sabotaged her own leadership with her appearing weak and hypocritical. "I can't believe I lied. And to Dad!"

Unexpectedly, Buttercup took her into her arms, patting her on the back.

"There, there, Bloss," she comforted her. "At least you're doing the right thing. The right thing's hard to do, isn't that what Dad said?" Buttercup had said this with a demented smile on her face, hidden from Blossom and Bubbles' sight, of course.

Bubbles couldn't believe her ears. Were Blossom and Buttercup conspiring together to hide the truth? She felt her past coming back to the surface, relived by her sisters instead.

Blossom withdrew herself before smiling at Buttercup. Moments like this with her wayward sister was rare. It was giving her that warm, fuzzy feeling inside here, especially when she could see it in Buttercup's face that the normally tomboyish girl was fine with it too.

"Thanks, Buttercup," Blossom said gratefully. "You're right. It's hard, but I guess I know I'm right."

"There you go," Buttercup said. "Now you know how I feel. Every single day."

"At least my wish is coming true," Blossom added. "I want the three of us together, close. And now I'm getting it."

The door opened soon after that.

"Oh, Girls! It's time for a voyage in the tub!" Professor Utonium exclaimed to them, trying to make it exciting to make up for his neglect of them in favor of Bunny. Just his presence in the room had caused that feeling in the back of Blossom's mind, that feeling that she might be wrong, to flare up again. The blissful, innocent look on the middle-aged man's face was a stark reminder of how it would change should news of her massacre get out. "Look at you, Buttercup - conquering your inner demons already!"


	65. Chapter 59: Impending Changes

**Chapter 59: Impending Changes**

**Phone Recording 02241989-1953-TH**

**DOC: 24 FEB (Friday) 1989.**

**EXTRACTED: 01 JUN 1989.**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Corporal Nana Weston: General Blackwater's office, how can I assist?

Professor Utonium: Utonium here. Get me General Blackwater. Now.

Corporal Nana Weston: Yes sir, but before I do that… Thanks again. (Sincerely)

Professor Utonium: For what?

Corporal Nana Weston: For everything.

Professor Utonium: Can you be more specific?

Corporal Nana Weston: Transferring… now.

Professor Utonium: Nevermind, then.

(General beeping on the phone as the line is being transferred)

General Blackwater: General Blackwater here. What is it?

Professor Utonium: It's about the Girls, all four of them-

General Blackwater: What now, Utonium!? Unlike some people, we here in the security branch of the USDO don't have the luxury of dilly-dallying around playing house like some little schoolgirl!

Professor Utonium: I- (defeated sigh) I would like to request that Project Powerpuff be shut down tomorrow for a day.

General Blackwater: What for!? Did Bubbles go nuts again!? Keep that bitch on a leash! Aren't you supposed to be good at that!?

Professor Utonium: Uh- no. Please don't talk about my… daughter that way. We've been planning a wedding photoshoot. We were going to put it off until next week and then you showed up, asking to take Bunny away. I want the four of them present for the photos.

General Blackwater: Shit, two of you are really tying the knot huh?

Professor Utonium: Yes. It'll also be a bit of a send-off party for Bunny. You're… coming in the morning on Sunday, are you? You military types usually do it early.

General Blackwater: Haven't heard a compliment from you in a long time, Upton. Five in the morning, sharp. I've already sent Selicia a message about it. Get Bunny ready by then.

Professor Utonium: (mumbles discontentedly) Well, at least Bunny didn't need much sleep…

General Blackwater: Can you say again?

Professor Utonium: I discovered last night that she seems to need less sleep compared to baseline human beings. About four hours, more or less. I did this by monitoring the level of Melatonin production in her body when she woke me up at midnight. I suspected it right away - I've also-

General Blackwater: Okay, cut the crap. You got your permission. They're off the hook tomorrow. Just know that you're sacrificing lives - the lives of courageous heroes - for your selfish, inconsequential gains by doing this, Professor Utonium. Congratulations, by the way. (Hangs up loudly)

Professor Utonium: (Barking) Then why are you even agreeing to it!? It's not like I… (Pauses, before hanging up)

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Uptown. En route to Polaski's Bridal Emporium**

**25 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 1427.**

Happiness. By the twenty-fifth of February, 1989, the only person in the family salon heading into Townsville's more reputable district who could still feel pure, unadulterated happiness was Bunny. Professor Utonium couldn't feel it without fearing that he would lose it. Sergeant Selicia, with Bubbles and Blossom in the same car as her, couldn't feel it in its entirety when she had doubts about certain members of her own family. Blossom and Bubbles had acquired one too many demons from their crime-fighting career, and their family life was hardly ideal. Buttercup was still unsure if she could indulge in her… obsessions. Too many times had she been caught and blocked from doing what she wished, just because people had some petty differences with her!

Bunny, on the other hand, was all smiles, and it was only mere hours ago that she could think of a cause to be happy about. The morning was one of those few times when she got to play with her sisters.

Despite jealousy mounting in Blossom and Buttercup, they were still able to put it aside and have fun with her. Bubbles, unlike her fellow elder sisters, couldn't find any reason against treating Bunny like either of her other sisters. Blossom thought that she was wrong to be jealous of Bunny - just that the feeling was nigh-impossible to fight off. The fun had served to distract her from it. Buttercup, on the other hand, needed another body for some play-wrestling - and Bunny provided more than a challenge. In due time, she thought Bunny would make a good punchbag in unarmed combat training, as Bubbles could no longer fill that role owing to her new-found confidence in fighting.

'Bunny loves Blossom!' she had declared while she was playing with blocks together with Blossom.

'I love you too,' Blossom had replied - and found it surprising that jealousy and love could co-exist side by side.

'Bunny loves Bubbles!' she would go on to declare further. 'Bunny loves Buttercup!'

'Oh brother…' Buttercup had mumbled to herself, as she didn't like mushy stuff like that, much less from someone who took Mom and Dad's attention away from her.

But most importantly, Blossom had tried to teach Bunny about pronouns - such as referring to oneself as 'I' and the other person as 'you'.

'Bunny loves Blossom!' Bunny would erupt in a fit of giggles again, with Blossom's lesson on grammar unheeded.

The rest of the day went by uneventfully - they went to the studio of the bridal emporium, got dressed and took photos. The dressing up bit took the better part of an hour, especially on the part of the girls - adult and children - due to the bridal gown for Selicia and the make-up for all of them. The photography took even longer, as the session wasn't restricted to the backdrop available in the emporium's photography studio. They went all around Townsville for the best locales, much to Buttercup's irritation. Bunny got a little cranky - she was too young to understand what was going on, too young to understand the significance of the traveling and picture snapping. Unlike Buttercup, however, Bunny was easily placated by finger games and learning new words from the professor's educational card set.

* * *

**Townsville Tribune Extract 25 FEB 1989**

**TOWNSVILLE SLUM MASSACRE**

The Townsville slums is the city's shameful underbelly of civil neglect and crime. It is a dirty place full of drugs and illicit activities, where people go to get murdered, where criminals go to murder. This has been a reality for over a decade, and for over a decade, the police have ceased patrolling the district as their fatality rate and casualties couldn't justify what little effect they have in preserving law and order in the area. Crime has since largely gone unreported in the area.

But when it is, it has to be done in person, and it tends to be big. 24 February, Friday (yesterday) was one of those days when it happened. At approximately 9:50am yesterday, four officers on guard duty by a road leading into the slums were approached by a stranger, who was later identified as one of the Slum's more upstanding denizens (his name is withheld to protect his identity).

Townsville's very own Robin Hood and his merry band are dead. Don Exposito and eight others, which includes his closest lieutenants and advisors, were reported to have been shot dead in their own den, a dilapidated apartment building not too far from one of the roads leading into the shinier parts of Townsville.

While he was the leader of one of over two hundred criminal gangs operating in Townsville, the Exposito Crime Family, Don Exposito, is also known to be unusually divisive a personality where other crime bosses usually inspire hatred and fear from the more law-abiding citizens of Townsville. This is due to his modus operandi - which involves highly complex, intelligent and well-thought-out white-collar crimes, extortion rackets aimed at large corporations and drugs targeting the richer demography in the region. His murder victims consist mainly of people who are said to deserve death - rival gang members, corrupt city and law enforcement officials, and street criminals with loose morals.

Part of the reason why his death had, and has, inspired an outpouring of sympathy was due to where a significant fraction of his earnings go to - it is by no coincidence that, although his headquarter is situated in the slums, he rarely subjects the inhabitants of the slum to his unlawful activities. Quite the opposite, he is well known for organizing charity buffets, putting up shelters and inviting medical professionals, sometimes pro bono and sometimes paid out of his pockets, into the slums to treat the people there. Even Mayor Wilford, the current incumbent of the city, had shared a few kind words about him, despite their stark differences and positions on the law and order spectrum.

However, Don Exposito is not without his detractors. Numerous experts believe that he is simply a more capable hypocrite than others of his ilk and that his charity work serves merely as smoke and mirrors to his criminal enterprise. By providing for his immediate community, he is bribing Townsville for moral capital, winning supporters among the poor in the Slums, and ensuring that people become dependent on him such that the idea of getting rid of him becomes unthinkable. It is possible that he owes the continued existence of his gang - which still numbers dozens strong - to this tactic.

Whatever the case may be, it didn't last. The police have occupied the Exposito headquarters in force to conduct an investigation. Their spokesperson has revealed that the Exposito top members were killed by gunshots - making it likely that a rival gang has dispatched them. Due to the nature of the Slums, witnesses are not forthcoming, and as far as they know, everyone at the scene has been killed - even the harmless women and children, who were gunned down outside the apartment building where Don Exposito and his top men were killed.

A funeral is currently being organized by relatives of the Exposito family, with hundreds said to have already accepted the invitation.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**25 FEB (Saturday) 1989. 2041.**

Bunny was standing next to the railing of the House's balcony, staring out into the vast world, taking in the suburbia. It was all new to her - just a day earlier, she wouldn't even have known that there was a world outside the House. Back then, the world was just the House and her family, and that was more than enough.

And now… Now she knew that the world was a much bigger place, but it wasn't all good, not like the House and her family. Her Dad had told her what was going to happen tomorrow, and she didn't want any part of it. All she ever wanted - all she ever needed, was to stay in the House, with her family.

Ten minutes ago, Professor Utonium had brought her into his office alone to speak to her about this. They were seated around the lounging area where Psychiatrist Alice would usually counsel her elder sisters.

'Bunny, I'll be blunt about this,' he had said to her after making sure she was listening. 'Someone's coming to take you away tomorrow, Bunny.'

'Bunny going out tomorrow?' Bunny had tried her best to explain what she understood - which was little. The only reason she was ever brought out of the House thus far was to get new things or do something with her family.

'No, Bunny, I'm afraid not,' the professor tried again to explain. It was agonizing enough the first time; he didn't know how he could take trying to tell his fourth daughter about something as serious and terrible as this. 'You're leaving this place tomorrow, Bunny.'

'Bunny leave?' she hinted at some level of understanding, but at this rate, she was already what normal people would consider shockingly intelligent for someone born a few days ago. As it slowly dawned on her what the professor meant, her eyes grew wide and her face had screwed up in sadness as she was about to cry.

'Yes, I'm afraid so. But it'll only be for three days… and you'll meet some new people…' the professor tried to make it sound better, even though he knew that there was little good in what was in store for Bunny next.

'Bunny wanna stay…' the physically eight-year-old said anxiously. She could feel it in her guts - an almost painful sensation, drowning her. A sense of helplessness, a perversion of the security she felt with her Dad.

'I'm afraid that's not possible,' the professor had said, shaking his head. He looked upset, and Bunny knew what it meant - if her Dad was so clearly upset, it could only mean there were bad things. He then looked up at her, forcing him to smile, but Bunny had become quite adept at reading human expressions. 'You'll meet new people and learn new things. You're going to become like Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. You remember them, do you? How cool they look when they're going out to help people? You're going to be as good as they are, and even better.'

'No! Bunny wanna stay!' Bunny had screamed so shrilly, her voice had gone from low to relatively high-pitched. The professor had to cover his ears, and even then, there was ringing in it after Bunny's outburst. And she wasn't stopping: 'Bunny wanna stay! Bunny WANNA STAY!'

Bunny had started crying unrestrained, melting down dangerously and her couch was already feeling it as she was pounding on it.

'Bunny, it's not going to be that bad - you have to trust Dad!' the professor got off his couch and reached out for her only for Bunny to slap his hand away and scramble over her couch and to the door. She'd run, and that was how she ended up at the balcony, winning herself some time to be alone, and imagine that her Dad's plan did not exist.

It took Professor Utonium some time to find her. Five minutes to ten, all the while afraid that she had run off, which would make things a whole lot worse for everyone.

"Bunny, you really shouldn't run off like that," the professor said to her while he was stepping into the balcony, trying to keep his tone as far away from reprimanding as possible. It wasn't something Bunny needed nor deserved. "You know how much slower I am, so I can't hope to catch up with you." The professor laughed briefly after that, remembering that even the industrial treadmill in the lab - meant for testing vehicles - couldn't keep up with her.

Bunny, however, remained stubbornly unresponsive, sulking at the railing of the balcony as she looked out into the horizon. The professor put a hand on her shoulder. At first, she seemed to shrink away from his touch but undid her action shortly after that. The professor took a peek at her from the side; she was crying, predictably but understandably. The impending change would have reduced anyone to tears, part of the reason why forced military service was lifted in most countries, except the ones that cared little for human rights.

"Bunny wants to stay," Bunny uttered with her arms crossed. Everything she knew - her entire life - had been The House and her family, and she knew nothing but joy here. Anything with a big unknown in it couldn't compare to this. Change was bad if one was in paradise.

"I know, I want you to stay too," the professor said. He understood exactly why she would react this way if her joy earlier today was any indication. They had a farewell dinner for Bunny before this, not that Bunny knew that it was a farewell dinner. They had ordered whatever they wanted, and it didn't matter if there was too much food. For someone who hadn't experienced a wide variety of culinary creations, it was just as much a time for gastronomic exploration.

They had presents for her too. The professor had given her a massive illustrated encyclopedia - it was a good thing weight was not an issue for Bunny. Selicia got her a set of replica guns (no doubt to secretly desensitize her to the real thing, and get her to learn a little about how they function before her training began in earnest). Even her elder sisters were in on it. Blossom gave Bunny her favorite fairy tale picture book, while Buttercup gave up her boxing gloves (with much convincing from Blossom), not that she had been using those anymore. Bubbles had actually reached a new peak in her artistic pursuits for her sake, sewing up a big carrot pillow for her. Though it was crude compared to manufactured pillows, Bunny really liked it, and it'd made the origin of her name a talking point during the farewell party.

"I want you to stay… so much, Bunny," the professor repeated. As much as he disagreed with General Blackwater and the USDO's methods, he remembered his own stakes in the creation of his fourth adopted daughter. It had to be done. "But you need to go. Your sisters need your help, and the people you're going to meet tomorrow will teach you everything you need to know to help them."

"Bunny knows…" the enhanced girl said, her voice cracking. She then hugged her Dad, and Dad hugged her back. "Bunny scared…"

"Mom will be there with you," the professor comforted her. "She'll be there for you."

"But Bunny wants Daddy," she said. The professor thought it disconcerting that she had shown a preference for him over Selicia, but in light of Bunny's crisis in the huge, impending change in her life, he couldn't bear to bring it up.

"Mom will take care of you," he simply said.


	66. Chapter 60: Arrival

**Chapter 60: Arrival**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**26 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0445.**

Bunny hadn't eaten much, even though both Dad and Mom had done their best to whip up the most appetizing waffles they could. Conversely, Blossom and Buttercup were shoving theirs into their mouths like hogs. To the two of them, Bunny leaving was a good thing, and when times were good, their appetite was healthy. Bubbles, on the other hand, wasn't much better off than Bunny. Bubbles knew what was going to happen to her, and although she had become good at crime-fighting, she knew that the process wouldn't be easy nor pleasant. She couldn't bear the thought that Bunny was going to go through the same process, if not worse, at just a few days old where she and her fellow elder sisters had three weeks before they were first put out there to combat Townsville's crime problem.

"Eat up, Bunny, it's really good," the professor said. He was sitting right next to Bunny, much to the chagrin of Blossom and Buttercup, who wanted his attention. They hadn't said a word about it only because they knew they would have his undivided attention very soon. "Your Mom and I worked hard on the waffles. The grape sauce is really something - we've never tried it before…"

"Bunny sad…" the going-away girl said, her head held low and her eyelashes wet with tears that managed to breach her closed eyes. "Bunny knows she must go but…"

"It'll only be for a few days, Bunny. We'll see each other again real soon," the professor comforted her, though there was little he could do, considering that he himself needed some attention from this traumatic event - especially when he knew so much more about this, and some of the facts were downright damning. He was a part of all this - if anyone deserved to be miserable, it was him. No matter how he rationalized his part in this, he could still perceive that his soul was stained if it wasn't already.

"Bunny likes talking to you…" Bunny said.

"You know, I think I have just the thing for that," the professor said, and after coaxing Bunny with this promise of a surprise to eat just a little more, he brought her down to the lab. After bringing her to his desk, he started rummaging through it, looking for something. "Now where did I put that thing?" He'd muttered as he overturned stationery, paper, and oversized lab instruments in his search. Bunny was peeking past his body left and right, wondering what he was looking for.

"A-ha!" the professor exclaimed when he pulled something out from one of the drawers of the desk. It was an instrument longer than a pen, and thicker, with numerous buttons on it. It was clear that it was an electronic device, with the digital screen on one side and a microphone on one end. "Here, I'll give this to you."

"What is it, Daddy?" Bunny wondered in her usual low voice. She examined the thing, and in the process, saw different symbols on the buttons. Arrows pointing in opposite directions, with two bars in between them. There was a red square too. "Bunny's toy?"

"It's more than a toy, dearest rabbit," the professor said playfully, proud of his resourcefulness. "It's a useful device for talking. This one's state of the art with an Institute solid-state drive, long before it will be introduced to the rest of the world." The professor had to pause himself when he realized he had forgotten that he was talking to a kid who was merely a few days old, and likely couldn't understand what he was saying at all.

"Here, let me show you how to use it," he said before gently taking the gadget from her. The professor then switched it on using a power button, denoted by an incomplete circle with a bar wedged into the middle. He then hit the record button, represented by a huge red square, before bringing the microphone of the device up to his mouth. "It's what you call a voice recorder. It records your voice."

The professor hit the pause button before rewinding it. Bunny observed the device in awe as if it was some kind of magical artifact. With her understanding of technology at an astounding zero, it might as well be. The professor hit the play button after the recorder had gone back to the zero mark of the latest sound clip.

"It's what you call a voice recorder. It records your voice," the sound recorder repeated the professor's words back to them. Bunny giggled in wonderment of the magic at work.

"Bunny likes it!" she said with a laugh. The professor smiled alongside her. He would give anything to see her happy and distracted from the darkness surrounding her, especially at a time like this, but for now, it seemed that all it took was some fatherly love on his part.

"And I want you to have it," he pushed the voice recorder into her hands before closing her fingers around it. "Whenever you feel like you're alone, you can talk to it. When you're back with me, we can listen to your recordings together."

Using whatever time they had together remaining, they spent a brief father-and-daughter moment with the voice recorder. The professor taught her the rest of its functions, and that it required charging at a power terminal. In the meantime, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were left alone upstairs again, exchanging looks with each other and Mom. Selicia glared at Blossom - she knew from how she behaved that she was jealous. She then stared at Bubbles with paranoia in her eyes, suspecting her of the same thing. Buttercup, however, was spared this treatment. While her sisters were sitting on the edge of their seats, afraid that Mom might do something to them while Dad was away, Buttercup was heaping another pile of waffles on her plate and pouring an excessive amount of grape syrup on them.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**26 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 0500.**

It was time. As Selicia Goodwin and Bunny Utonium walked out of the front door of The House, hand-in-hand, a convoy of three humvees had pulled over on the street. Selicia saw the huge form of General Blackwater clamber out of the middle humvee, along with a squad of soldiers from every vehicle, battle-ready likely just in case Bunny decided to have an explosive tantrum. But there wasn't going to be another incident, not this time. The professor had made sure of it. In Director Cliff's words, he'd made her 'docile', 'tame' and 'obedient'.

Selicia and Bunny traveled across their lawn, luggage in tow, with Professor Utonium, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup standing at The House's entrance, seeing them off. The two going-away girls didn't have to travel all the way across the lawn to meet General Blackwater, who met them in the middle of it with four soldiers on either side of him, like the wings of an eagle. Selicia gave him a quick salute when they came up close to them.

Bunny held her Mom's hand tightly as she instinctively squeezed closer to her, afraid of the giant standing in front of her. It didn't help that it was still dark out, and shadows were everywhere because of the street lamps. Before her, the giant in SWAT gear was staring down at her, scrutinizing her, judging every bit of her. The giant of a man scowled at her attire: the purple dress and white pantyhose were evident under her jacket. He'd seen pictures of her, some covertly obtained while others 'honestly' taken. She was likely wearing a pair of Mary-Jane shoes under her snow boots. The lack of winter pants and additional layers of insulation suggested that, like her elder sisters, Bunny was resistant to the cold too, like a human tardigrade.

"Hello, Miss Bunny Utonium," the general greeted the latest enhanced little girl stiffly and coldly, the frown on his face still there, as if frozen in place by the winter cold. "You may address me as General Blackwater. I will be administering your training from now on."

Bunny clamped up the moment she was in the general's presence, intimidated not just by his physical size and appearance, but also his demeanor and stern outlook, projected in overwhelming force. There was an awkward silence because of this, while everyone involved was waiting for Bunny to muster up the courage to return the general's greeting, only to be met with nothing.

"Don't be rude, Bunny," Selicia whispered to Bunny as she shook her as stealthily as she could. "Greet your general - the two of you will be seeing each other very often."

"H-hi, Mister General Blackwater," Bunny squeaked pathetically, timid in the face of the bear.

"General Blackwater. No misters, no extra words. Just General Blackwater," the general corrected her, his voice narrowing to something softer, though no one with him could decide if he was trying to seem more sensitive and approachable, or if he was cross with the fourth USDO enhanced individual. "The two of you will follow me into the vehicle back to headquarters. We'll begin immediately after we arrive there."

With that, they were escorted to the general's humvee. Taking one last look behind her, Bunny's eyes met with the professor's one last time. She waved at him and her sisters a final time before she stepped into the humvee.

* * *

**Training Segment: Arrival**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 0552**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: Untrained**

The ride to the USDO headquarters was silent. This made Selicia concerned. Bunny was usually spontaneous and full of life, like the Energizer Bunny in the commercials. Now, had it not been for the rhythmic breathing that she could feel while she was resting on her lap, Selicia wouldn't have known that she was alive. In the meantime, Selicia couldn't decide why General Blackwater would personally want to escort Bunny to the USDO headquarters. It was grunt work, something that any private or corporal could have accomplished. It would remain a mystery even after she had arrived at headquarters.

There, they were escorted to their bunks (the general had requested that they live separately). Selicia had followed Bunny to hers to help her unpack. It was a cold, spartan space underground, with modest and merely functional furnishing. Bunny remained lifeless in this new environment, likely still suffering from separation anxiety, this time sitting in her new cot like a statue while Selicia unpacked the little belongings they had brought along for the 'law enforcement' crash course. Calling it a black ops crash course would have been more accurate.

Before Selicia could try to remedy Bunny's situation or even talk to her, however, a soldier went through their door, informing them that General Blackwater had requested to see Bunny alone. In addition to that, he'd dropped off a few sets of uniforms for Bunny - military fatigues of the same design as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's, except larger-sized and purple. The soldier left without a word after that.

Selicia had to help Bunny suit up. While she had already learned how to dress up, the professor hadn't taught her how to wear military fatigues. Neither did she seemed motivated to learn. She didn't seem motivated to do anything. Had breathing required conscious effort, Bunny would have died on the spot.

"Bunny," Selicia shook her, and when she failed to respond, she shook her even harder, and longer, until Bunny looked up at her. "You need to take this seriously! This is what you're made for-" Selicia stopped when she realized she might have let slip the secret behind Bunny's origin, but decided that her new daughter's naivety and lack in vocabulary made it inconsequential. "This is what you're born to do. You're going to help your sisters."

"Bunny miss Dad," Bunny mumbled. Tears started dripping from her eyes when she said this. She then broke out into a sob, which Selicia found inconvenient to the current situation and agenda.

"Hey, Bunny," Selicia tried to catch her attention again, but Bunny was too emotionally affected. The Mom called out to her repeatedly, snapping her fingers in her face. Nothing worked. She went back to desperately gripping her by the shoulders and shaking her, only then did Bunny made eye contact with Selicia once again, her glowing violet eyes ringed with red. "You need to be strong, rabbit! Look, I miss your Dad too, but you don't see me crying like a little girl, do you?"

"Here, you need to put your boots on," Selicia simply moved on, even though Bunny wasn't done crying yet. Taking a pair of child-sized military boots out of their boxes, she loosened the bootstraps before slipping Bunny's foot into it. It was a perfect fit. The general had made sure of it. In fact, he was extremely involved - personally involved - with Bunny's development, much more so than with the first three. With the other boot, she tried to teach Bunny how to put it on and tie the boot strings, but the girl in question was barely even listening, likely because she was still upset. Selicia sighed.

"You need to shape up, Bunny. You're going to see General Blackwater in a few minutes," Selicia said as she sat herself down next to her.

"Bunny don't want to see Blackwater," she simply said, while she wiped another stream of tears off her still-red cheek.

"Why not?" Selicia pulled her into a hug. She sort-of kinda liked Bunny, but not just because she was going to liberate Buttercup from her crime-fighting duties. Bunny seemed confident and glad to use her enhanced abilities, and though she could see shades of Blossom and Bubbles in her, she thought it was too early to tell.

"He's mean," Bunny simply said and hugged back.

"Oh, I know he looks and talks that way, but once you get to know him… I'm sure you'll like him," Selicia said as she stroked her hair, which she had cut down by a few inches and tied into a ponytail for neatness.

"But why does he have to be like that?" Bunny asked.

"He's suffered. For a very, very long time, he's been sacrificing everything to protect others," Selicia said as she kissed Bunny in the scalp. "He's like your sisters, I guess, but he's endured more pain, more hardship. And like your sisters, he's earned the love of those around him. His soldiers, Bunny… His… knights… will die for him because of that." Selicia thought throwing in some fairy tale elements was a nice touch. No, it was masterful!

"Oh…" Bunny said, still downcast, still dejected. What she was really thinking was a mystery to Selicia, and she wasn't always forthcoming about her thoughts through no fault of her own - with only a vocabulary numbering in the hundreds and still a distance to go from a thousand, there was likely so much that Bunny couldn't express.

There was a knock on the door, though it wasn't interrupting anything. The woman and girl had long fallen into silence, with Bunny just snuggling closely with her Mom, while the latter allowed her a moment of peace and reprieve before the beginning of the end when her innocence would be lost.

"Ma'am, we shouldn't keep the general waiting," the soldier advised Selicia, who stood up immediately after that.

"C'mon, Bunny, I'll walk with you," Selicia offered to her fourth daughter, putting out a helping hand to lift her up. Bunny took it.

Together, they walked hand in hand, with guards who had been waiting outside all along. There were six of them, which was minimal when it came to enhanced individuals. Had it been Blossom, the general would have guarded her with twenty men, and with Bubbles or Buttercup, forty per head.

Resigned to her fate, Bunny followed along, pulled by Selicia, towards what she imagined must be a bear's den. Why else would there be so many men around her?


	67. Chapter 61: Bunny Good

**Chapter 61: Bunny Good**

**Training Segment: Orientation**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 0558**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

The door closed behind Bunny when she was led into the room. She was kind of pushed into it, in fact, by a somewhat reluctant Selicia when she wouldn't go in on her own. The room was quickly vacated by the few soldiers in it, and one of them was Corporal Nana Weston, the young woman soldier who had played with her on the general's visit, exchanging a look of familiarity with her before leaving. Bunny smiled at the nice young woman, but her smile was as short-lived as Nana's presence.

Bunny stared at the end of the room, where the huge man was. Banging on his keyboard as if it had offended him severely, General Blackwater was typing up something when she came in. She had time to observe the man before he noticed her. He was a gray-haired old man; General Blackwater was the first old man she had ever seen, and she didn't know why he was different from the others. Like her, he was bulky for someone his size - and he was already a colossus.

"Miss Bunny Utonium," the general greeted her in a severe, monotonous voice without looking at her. "Sit down in that chair in front of me."

Bunny stood rooted where she was. She hated this, and she wanted - so much - to throw herself back into the loving arms of her Dad.

"Do not make me repeat myself again," the general growled at her like a bear. Seeing no other choice, Bunny padded cautiously towards the chair while her eyes were still having a staring contest with the carpeted floor. Her feet, clad in the thick leather of her boots, felt clumsy only because she was unused to it. "I'll take it that you know what a chair is."

Bunny slipped into the chair in front of the general, perching on the edge as if getting ready to bolt. The general looked up at her all of a sudden, and she jumped when he did.

"You will speak when you're spoken to, Bunny," the general instructed the enhanced girl. "It's called being polite, or courteous, something your father should have taught you."

"Bunny know what a chair is…" she said half-heartedly. There was silence after that. The general did not appear to appreciate it, not like how Dad would. Every little thing seemed to remind Bunny of what was missing. The general was like the antithesis of her Dad, the God in her eyes who would praise her for even the smallest of achievements. She felt like the odd one out here, in this entire building she found herself in when her elder sisters were not around. She was little and afraid and she knew it.

At first, Bunny was looking at the general expectantly (but not in a good way), wondering what he had in store for her, but when he just continued to bang on his keyboard, her eyes drifted down again.

"Do you know why you're here, Bunny?" the general asked her all of a sudden, still banging on his keyboard at the same time. It sounded ready to just split in two.

"To help Bunny's sisters?" she said. What she said was met with silence for a moment.

"Yes, that's right," the general said and seemed to acknowledge her faster. "Do you know why you need to help them?"

"Bunny…" the enhanced girl wondered about the reasoning behind her statement, only to realize that something was missing. Her Dad and Mom had been repeating to her what she would be doing in the future, and yet… "Bunny don't know why…"

Reasons. Bunny knew that reasons existed. Her Dad had told her everything about reasons the moment she understood enough words to be able to make sense of it. She knew, for example, that learning how to speak was important because it allowed her to communicate with others, sometimes to get them to act in a certain way, or give her something to talk about for fun.

General Blackwater had stopped typing on his computer all of a sudden. If the keyboard could feel, it would likely be relieved. The change seemed significant to Bunny, but she couldn't understand why.

"I know everything about your sisters, Bunny," the general said, his eyes still pinned to her. Even with her limited understanding of the world, Bunny understood the general's newest fact to be of interest. She had never thought that General Blackwater and her elder sisters knew each other. "I've worked with them. Let me tell you the reason why you need to help them, why you're here."

"There are people out there hurting them, do you understand?" the general revealed. Bunny studied the general, now less afraid of him. She shook her head though - she couldn't quite understand what he meant. Although she knew what the word 'hurt' meant, she'd never known that people could hurt each other.

"Bunny don't understand…" she said.

"Is that right? Then let me educate you," the general replied harshly all of a sudden. He'd said it in such a way that made Bunny feel that she had done something wrong. Standing up, rising far above Bunny, he slipped off a glove and unsheathed a combat knife on his belt. Bunny jumped at his reaction.

"No! B-bunny scared!" the enhanced girl said as the general stood over her, with his combat knife held firmly in a gloved hand. He looked as if he was about to stab her, or do any number of nasty things to her.

The general went around his desk, coming closer to her. Bunny squeezed herself deep into her seat, too panicked to get out of her chair. He pressed the sharp edge of his combat knife against his left hand and slid it across his palm. Bunny could see red on the blade after that. Blood. She had never seen it before. The general didn't even wince when he cut himself, and when he was done, he showed her his bloody, cut palm.

"This is what they're doing to your sisters," he said. "Do you understand better now?"

Bunny nodded with her eyes wide with biologically-programmed fear, unable to tear them away from the bloodied blade in the general's right hand. Her eyes were misting even though she was not the one hurt.

"They're the enemy, and they're trying their best to destroy your sisters, to kill them. Do you know what that means?" the general went on lecturing Bunny. Reluctantly, Bunny shook her head. She didn't want to - all she got for her trouble was a harsh lesson in what 'hurt' truly meant, not to mention the shock of her life.

"When your sisters are killed, you'll never see them again. They will be taken away, forever - that is the enemy's objective." the general explained further. He studied Bunny for a reaction, and would have smiled in triumph had the matter been less morbid. The horrified look on Bunny's face was what he wanted so that she knew what was at stake. "Do you understand?"

"Bunny understands," she said, even as she was still trying to fight off the shock in her. But as it was wearing off, it was replaced with misery instead. "Bunny doesn't want sisters to go…"

"And that is why you're here," the general said while he made a round around his desk, returning to his seat. He turned around briefly to reach for a first-aid kit, opening it and taking out gauze and antiseptic to clean his self-inflicted wound. The gauze was soaked through within seconds. "In a way, we both want the same thing. I would hate to see your sisters go too. They are not good soldiers, but they are my soldiers all the same. You will train with me and my men, and you will protect your sisters from harm. Do you understand?"

"Bunny understands…" she said. General Blackwater took a good, long look at her. It was as if his face was made of stone. He hadn't changed expressions at all and it was making Bunny self-conscious.

"Your sisters. They're weak and flawed. Small. They're spoiled rotten. They're too dumb and trusting," the general continued. Bunny didn't like how the general is talking about her sisters, but she didn't dare to speak out against it. Her face, though, was completely transparent, and for the first time ever, she scowled at someone. "Good. Very good, Bunny."

"Bunny… good?" she said, taken by surprise. It was the first time General Blackwater had praised her, and because it had been hard to get him to say anything positive, it felt good.

"It's better for you to be angry than scared," the general said, with a smile. "Anger can be very useful, but then again, there's a use for everything…"

"You should know that I'm one of the good guys. I would never hurt your sisters – Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup," the general went on. Just the mention of her sisters' names had piqued her interest. "I'm fighting to preserve their lives. And I need your help to do that because they're on the brink."

"Bunny help!" she repeated herself earnestly. Her family was all she knew – and if she could help them in any way, she would go all in, just like how she comforted her Dad when he upset.

"I'm sure you will. I'm just trying to be honest here, Bunny. The reason why they need your help is that they can never be better than you. They can never be as strong, or fast, or more intelligent than you. They can never be as good as you are."

"Bunny good…" she muttered timidly but smiled, won over by the general. With Bunny's resolve and motivation secured, the general then went on a lengthy explanation of what was to come, and what he had in mind for Bunny's training would put her far above her sisters, way beyond their league…

* * *

**Training Segment: Standard Equipment**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 0625**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

Ever since her talk with General Blackwater, Bunny had relaxed a little more around him, though not too much. Despite opening up a little to her, the general remained stern towards her, and as they made their way to the firing range, he would give her the look whenever he suspected that she would begin to misbehave. Of course, this was pre-emptive on the general's part, and Bunny hadn't done anything wrong.

On the way towards the firing range, Bunny saw a squad of men jogging past her, fully equipped for war and armed to the teeth. Some of them were looking at her, some making eye contact before turning away; her glowing purple eyes had caught their attention, but her being in the general's company more so. They had always known him to harbor a hatred towards enhanced individuals ever since the early days when the USDO was just the Organization, small and ill-equipped, unknown despite the great strides it had made towards improving the US military.

They entered the armory after that, and they were greeted by the armory sergeant, who escorted them to a special weapons lock-up area, which contained some of the more exotic of equipment. General Blackwater had already arranged for Bunny's equipment to be laid neatly on a table in the center.

There was a full suit of armor that came in one piece, color-coded to suit Bunny's purple eyes and dress. It was like nothing modern, no, it was downright futuristic, likely cutting-edge stuff. A heavily modified MP5 sat beside it, as well as a pistol. Loads of magazines and grenades and smaller things took up a whole quarter of the huge table.

The general went up to the armor and knocked on the chest piece with his knuckles. Bunny looked on like a birthday girl or someone who was unwrapping presents on Christmas; instinctively, she knew that it was all for her. It was the color that tipped her off.

"Multi-layered composite poly-weave Kevlar, titanium joints and frame, 360 degrees protection - this here is the latest tech ordered on express just for you. This thing will stop even assault rifle bullets," the general introduced Bunny's new toy to her. "And it's all for you. Think of it as a thank-you gift in advance for protecting your sisters. How about we put it on now? Are you up to it?"

"Bunny good!" the enhanced girl simply said, seeing this as no different from that time when Dad bought her some new dresses to replace Mom's stuff, which was oversized on her.

"I'll take that as an affirmative," the general said before pulling the all-encompassing suit of armor off the table with some difficulty. The thing was heavy. A normal 8-year-old child would be completely immobilized by it. The suit of armor was actually the unpowered version of the power armor being produced by Project Klendathu, stripped of unnecessary electronic and electrical components. It could almost stand on its own, as demonstrated by the general when he stood it up and began opening the various parts up for Bunny to slip into; splitting open the chest, pulling the limbs open from the sides…

By herself, Bunny was pretty well-built for a girl who had never been to the gym. With the suit on, she was a pint-sized tank, lacking only a helmet - which the general had - again pre-emptively - decided that she didn't need in anticipation of the fact that she would likely develop some manner of enhanced ability similar to Blossom's infrared beam.

"Try walking around this room," the general ordered not too severely. With his hands on Bunny's armored shoulders like a father teaching a child how to walk, he pushed her gently off, and as if walking for the first time, Bunny started waddling forward, rounding a corner awkwardly. It wasn't exactly heavy for her. In fact, she could hardly feel a thing. She was just unused to it. However, that quickly changed when she rounded another corner, then another. By the time she returned to the general after making a full circle around the room, she was practically skipping towards him, enjoying the feel of her new outfit, as if it was a pair of ballet tights and tutu. She stopped when she realized she was getting carried away, only to find that the general was smiling as he was crossing his arms.

Upon being detected, the general dropped his smile and beckoned for Bunny to stand next to him while he pulled the modified MP5 close to them. "Have you seen your sisters' guns? You do know what a gun is, right?"

"Bunny know," she said as she was still pulling on her protective suit, adjusting it to be more comfortable.

"Yours is better, and it will fit a girl of your natural abilities," the general praised Bunny stealthily. Picking up the MP5, he stared through the scope to check if it was working, before clearing the firearm of any misplaced rounds. It was dry when he triggered it; empty. "Your main firearm has a scope, suppressor, flashlight and laser sight. Your magazines will be extended and doubled for ease of reloading. Your sidearm will have some of the same things. I will teach you how to use each of them personally."

After that, General Blackwater would introduce Bunny to her pistol, which was just as customized as her main weapon. It had a suppressor as well, which, when used with subsonic rounds, would be almost entirely silent save for the sound of its mechanical components working. The pistol's magazine poked out of the receiver; it was extended. She had grenades of all sorts; flashbangs, smoke grenades, and even fragmentary grenades, something which General Blackwater had refused to give Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup for fear of misuse.

She was also provided with a combat knife, a set of garret wires, all sorts of utility tools ranging from ropes to flashlights to night vision goggles, most of which the general would never consider giving to the original trio.

* * *

**Training Segment: Firearms Training**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 0716**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

General Blackwater was bending low as he was instructing Bunny on the operation of her suppressed Sig Sauer pistol. They were both wearing ear protection and ballistic goggles while they were live at the firing range. Bunny was predictably doing everything wrong at first, having no concept of firearms; she wasn't even aiming down the sights, her elbows were locked and the gun wasn't entirely upright. That, and she was holding her pistol all wrong, with the fingers of her left hand gripping the slide. With her kind of strength, it could jam the pistol.

Standing behind Bunny closely, the general began painstakingly correcting her. His hands enclosed around Bunny's wrists and pulled them closer to her so that her arms were bent and relaxed. He had reasoned that an enhanced individual didn't need to brace for a gun's recoil, as evidenced by Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's usage of firearms. He then adjusted the way she was holding the pistol, and as he was explaining the theory in fine detail, his hands went over to hers so that he could adjust them for her.

"Now look at the sights," the general explained to Bunny, his voice lowered to an unexpectedly gentle tone, his face just behind Bunny's, his mouth close to her ear. "Keep the beads on the paper bad guy in front of you. See the castle in front of you? The towers should all be the same height."

"Fire when ready."

And Bunny did just that, after a few second's hesitance. The bullet zipped right through the heart of the paper target. The general had earlier conducted a quick lesson on gun operation and safety. She knew to anticipate the recoil, and her grip and arm muscles were so strong that the recoil didn't matter at all.

"Perfect. You're just like me, Bunny," the general commended the enhanced girl. "You have whatever it takes to be a good soldier. Believe me, I know."

"Bunny good!" she would be jumping with joy had she not been in the firing range. She could recall every rule of the range at heart, and she didn't want to disappoint the general. In fact, she had forgotten that she was afraid of him. Mom was right all along - he was nice once she got to know him.

Selicia had been watching from the back. She couldn't help but feel… jealousy, and yet she couldn't believe she was jealous of the general of all people. Watching from her angle, General Blackwater and Bunny looked like father and daughter - and she was supposed to be the one to teach her how to handle firearms, as mother and daughter. Although she knew that she was still in charge of Bunny's subsequent target practice, the general had effectively taken away the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to teach Bunny how to shoot the first time. It was something that could happen only once, and she couldn't understand why the general would want to instruct Bunny personally when he was supposed to delegate like the general he was.

Bunny would then move on to fire quick bursts of pistol rounds, failing to connect all the shots at first, before succeeding in making one close grouping after the next. She was a fast learner as she didn't need to struggle to remember things, and General Blackwater was an effective teacher - it was part of the reason why he was a great leader. Selicia hated it, but there was nothing she could do.

They would then move on to Bunny's heavily modified MP5. It went a lot quicker than with the pistol as she was getting the hang of it. It was tight grouping after tight grouping, at all ranges. But it didn't end there. Bunny would be trained in the use of many diverse firearms of all sizes, from derringers to heavy machineguns that looked like they belonged in the trenches of World War 1. She would learn to field-strip them and put them together again, and how to maintain them. At this point, at least, Selicia had less to complain about, as General Blackwater had to retire to his office because of exhaustion. A bear with good genetics and futuristic medical treatment though he might be, he was still an old man in his sixties.

"I hope the general wasn't too hard on you, Bunny," Selicia said to her while she was supervising Bunny as she was taking apart a GPMG, an M240, giggling and smiling as though she was playing a game and the machinegun was a puzzle to be solved.

"Bunny like General Blackwater. He's nice to Bunny," the enhanced girl said as she removed the barrel of her machinegun. Selicia would be lying if she were to say she wasn't surprised. She didn't think that it was possible for them to get this close, and in one day too.


	68. Chapter 62: Father Figures

**Chapter 62: Father Figures**

**Training Segment: Communications**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 1141**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

"And X… Y… And Z…" Bunny recited the alphabets to her current instructor. After taking a break from the firing range, Bunny was brought to a small conference room in another part of headquarters by Selicia on orders of General Blackwater, in accordance to her training program.

"Very good! Your father sure did a good job teaching you the basics," Bunny's instructor, Corporal Nana Weston, praised her. When Bunny saw that she was going to take over, she was thrilled. Nana, this young woman from nowhere, had been kind to her right from the moment she met her when she came to visit with General Blackwater. Not to mention, the woman was sort of a spitting image of her, except older. They both had brown hair, though Nana's well-toned muscles were acquired, not inherited.

"Bunny good?" the enhanced girl repeated herself. They were seated next to each other behind a conference table.

"Yes, you're good," Nana cooed at her, pinching her cheek at the same time playfully. "Who's good? You are… you are!" Bunny giggled at the same time.

"Bunny like Nana," she said, and the corporal beamed at her. Those three words, though a small number, had made her day. But she knew she had a job to do. She knew she had to earn her keep in order to keep seeing Bunny.

"That's… Thank you. Nana likes Bunny too. Now how about we start learning something new?" the soldier said, visibly moved, caressing Bunny's hair. She pulled out a chart from a bag, one that appeared to display all twenty-six English alphabets with words below them. She was smiling at the same time as if she was in a TV commercial. "Radio code alphabets. Does Bunny think she can handle that?" She had asked playfully, her smile seemingly permanent. Of course, it went without saying that Bunny would likely be able to handle it. It would be harder for her to forget things than remember them, considering that she was gifted with Chemical X2-induced photographic memory which even the legendary Professor Utonium struggled to explain.

"Bunny good!" Bunny repeated herself while throwing her arms up in excitement. She seemed fixated on those words ever since meeting General Blackwater properly.

"Yes, you are! Great, now how about we run through our radio alphabets? A is for Alpha, B is for Bravo…" Corporal Nana began instructing Bunny, who giggled as if she was learning names to give her dolls and soft toys.

It didn't take Bunny very long to memorize the A to Z of radio codes, from Alpha to Zulu. But there was more in the syllabus Corporal Nana Weston had planned for her. It wasn't before long that she was able to get Bunny to memorize the Greek alphabets that the radio codes were based on, but also the language used on the military radio. Then it was onto the Morse code and military lingo. Beyond that, she began using flashcards to teach Bunny the name of various things, but unlike Professor Utonium's innocent pictures of apples and trees and goldfishes and cats, Nana Weston was using pictures containing numerous weapons, from improvised everyday objects to the most obscure firearms. Pictures of various military equipment came after that, then pictures of how different personnel in the USDO, TPD, and other federal or local agencies looked like, all of which she quickly learned the name of alarmingly fast.

And none of it broke Bunny's perfect memorizing streak. When tested on the names of some of the things she saw, she was able to recall all of them, in random order. For that, Nana gave Bunny a lollipop, and she got to choose the flavor. But really, there was the only choice that Bunny would ever take: Grape. It reminded her of the pancakes Daddy made before she came to the USDO headquarters.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Townsville Industrial Park. Church of the New Trinity.**

**26 FEB (Sunday) 1989. 1215.**

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup could only be confused at Dad's behavior ever since Bunny's departure for training. With her out of the way, he was supposed to spend more time with them, or at least talk to them more.

Instead, he didn't. Back at home, they had to have a second breakfast because they woke up so early. Dad was silent as he prepared the meal, and so was he at the table. He seemed distant, it seemed, with his mind elsewhere. The three of them were chatterboxes as usual, but when they tried to talk to him, he barely replied or would miss half the stuff they talked about.

Not to mention, he had brought them to the strange warehouse church when he wasn't a believer in their rhetoric. He wasn't himself, that much Blossom knew - as she knew, too, that he thought of things in a different way from the 'religious types'. He was silent when he drove them there, and he was silent when he sat down at the VIP area as the church's service began. Blossom, in particular, knew that he was thinking of something, and she could only guess that he must be thinking of Bunny. Her, and Mom. What else could it be?

But if it was any consolation, the one good that Dad did was to bring them to the church, where the people there who believed them to be angels sent from heaven were fawning over them, indulging in their every need. It was a welcome distraction from having to think about Bunny overshadowing them.

They had a long talk with the priest. It was a refreshing change from the silent treatment Dad had been giving them. He promised! Blossom was especially sour with him – she had cried and begged for his attention and he had realized his error and promised it, and yet here he was, going back on his words.

The priest – or saint, as the people here called him – was adamant that she shouldn't blame him, however. He reasoned with her that the job of raising such perfect beings as three angels capable of saving humanity was likely difficult, and to add one more to his duties would be difficult to the point of biblical proportions. Despite how Blossom felt, she thought it made sense. Bubbles and Buttercup weren't exactly easy to handle. She felt that she alone had made it easy for Dad to take care of her – not that she was rewarded for it.

No matter how outlandish the priest's beliefs were, Blossom couldn't help but think that at least he was talking to her, unlike Dad.

After the church, Dad drove the Girls to Princess Morbucks' mansion, still largely mute all the way, not that Blossom felt like talking to him anymore. Confusion and sadness eventually turned to anger and resentment, and of course, she attributed all of this to Bunny. 'Jealousy' wouldn't even begin to cover it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**26 FEB (Sunday) 1989.1256.**

It was as if the world was falling apart right before Blossom's eyes. Come to think of it, it had been falling apart ever since she first stepped out of her house. First, she discovered that crime existed on her first trip to the mall. Then, she discovered that her life as a crime-fighter was going to be just one torment after another when she 'fought' her first battle at Townsville Central Bank. She was abused by Mom multiple times, a parent whom she so loved, and even her sisters proved to be corruptible and untrustworthy at times. It seemed as if Dad didn't care about her anymore… and now this.

Princess Morbucks had taken ill in the past few days - more ill than before, to be precise. Where previously she could at least walk, she had become bedridden now. Where previously she was hopeful or even defiantly cheerful and talkative, she was barely clinging on; at any moment now, she could just slip into a depressive state of misery. When the Girls came up to her room, she had greeted them weakly, anemic, literally, as she promptly coughed up blood, which Annie the servant wiped away swiftly as if it was a shameful thing. The Girls, however, had seen it before Annie could hide the blood away. A doctor attending to her was just leaving, the sight of Townsville's three deadliest Girls was a pretty good motivation for him to disappear.

"Shouldn't you be in the hospital? That's the place Dad said people would go to if they're sick," Blossom asked as she hovered over to her - to her, however, it was purely a theory as she had never fallen sick before, and likely never will. Bubbles immediately flew to her, sitting beside her and taking her hand, giving it a squeeze. Buttercup loomed high above obnoxiously, watching the Princess.

"I… I don't want-" the Princess was about to explain things when she had another hacking cough. There was more blood. Bubbles pulled a piece of tissue out of its jewel-encrusted box and wiped it all away. "I don't want to stay in a hospital. I hate it. Dad said I could stay here. Plus, it's really nice to see the three of you."

"Oh, poor Princess…" Bubbles said, still squeezing her hand, caressing it. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Maybe with the three of you around, I'll get better?" Elodie Morbucks said, trying to keep things positive.

"Why did this happen anyway?" Buttercup inquired brusquely. "We were supposed to be having fun!"

"The doctor said that I was 'too upset, too often'," the Princess explained.

"It's our fault…" Bubbles remarked sadly, hanging her head low.

"No, Bubbles," the Princess continued. "He also said something about 'bad genetics' and 'genetic diseases' and it wasn't anyone's fault." Of course, despite the Princess' erudite upbringing, she was simply too young to understand the terms she threw out. It might as well mean the same thing as bad luck and fairy tale fate.

The Girls' time at Elodie Morbucks' place was instead spent on talking and reading from the Princess' vast selection of books. It was a sad affair, as although the Princess' 'genetic disease' was often talked about, the cure wasn't, beyond the bare mention that there could be no cure.

* * *

**Training Segment: Human Anatomy**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 1311**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

"-so if you want to kill a human being as quickly as possible and with no chance of any incidents, you will need to aim for the brain as it is what controls the human body. Both the front and back portions here and… here will yield the same results," Doctor Simmons lectured Bunny in his briefing room, which contained no one but them both. He was pointing out different parts of the brain on an anatomy chart, before walking over to an anatomy mannequin to point it out in a more three-dimensional manner. He didn't look very happy while he was teaching, as he was going through the motions without breaking a smile or doing more than just regurgitating his knowledge of the human body. "The next best spot would be the heart - while it might not stop a person as quickly, it will almost certainly kill. Multiple shots will ensure fatality."

"Mister Simmons?" Bunny said while putting up a hand.

"Yes, Bunny?" the old doctor adjusted his glasses as he acknowledged the purple-eyed girl.

"Does everyone have a brain and a heart?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," the doctor answered, looking like he had just spat out a frog.

"Even my Dad?" she asked a further question, puzzling the doctor as to what she was thinking.

"Yes, even your Dad," Doctor Simmons seemed to lighten up at the mention of Bunny's Dad, a smile slowly spreading on his face. Bunny, however, broke into a sob, shrieking for reasons beyond the man, quickly erasing the smile.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "What's distressing you?"

Bunny didn't answer immediately. She just kept crying, blubbering.

"Daddy has a brain and a heart!" Bunny cried.

"Bunny? What is it?" Doctor Simmons asked. Reluctantly, he grabbed a chair and sat down next to her. Picking out a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his lab coat, he helped Bunny wipe away her tears.

"Daddy- Daddy could die!" Bunny managed to enunciate. The doctor sighed. Bunny was too smart for her own good, reaching conclusions she was too emotionally undeveloped to handle.

"Yes… Yes, he could," the doctor said. "But it's not going to happen. Your Dad's tough. Besides, he's got you to protect him now."

"Does Mister Simmons mean it?" Bunny asked, still tearful and sniffling.

"Yeah, he's not leaving us anytime soon," the doctor added as he leaned on his chair, eyes distant, penetrating the ceiling as he thought about things. "My guess? He's fated for so much more - there's just so much more he's meant to accomplish. That's how it is with a man on a mission. And I think that mission involves your elder sisters - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup - and now you, Bunny."

"Promise?" Bunny pleaded, feeling a little better.

"I promise," Simmons said.

"Mister Simmons reminds me of Daddy," Bunny said, her tearful eyes flitting down briefly to regard his lab coat and office wear, and before the doctor was ready for it, the enhanced girl hugged him. "I miss him!"

Doctor Simmons laughed, his voice rough from age, but kindly despite being weighted down by decades of tragedy. "You'll see him in a few days. I know him well, and he'll always be there, waiting for you."

The door leading into the briefing room slammed open while they were still in their embrace, making the old doctor jump. Bunny got away from him and turned on her seat to see who it was.

"Doctor Simmons! Get out here! Now!" it was General Blackwater, booming like his newly acquired tanks firing a full volley.

"I was just-" Doctor Simmons sounded weak and sheepish compared to him.

"Get out here before I throw you in a cell!" the general gave him no quarter. Resigned, the doctor stood up, exchanged a look with Bunny before stepping out of the door, which the general slammed shut when he did. Bunny sat where she was, knowing that, although she was growing on the general, going against him in any way was a bad idea.

She could hear loud, angry murmurs after that, interspersed with barely audible mumbles, weak and anemic. Bunny tried to listen harder, tears breaking the dams in her eyes, dams that were barely built with mere hours of military training. The voices grew louder and louder the harder she concentrated until she could make out what they were trying to say, to her surprise.

"-Weakening her, when we need to toughen her up!" she heard General Blackwater say.

"That was not weakness I saw. Love is not a weakness," the doctor resisted feebly. She could hear something slamming against the wall after that, and the doctor shouting in pain.

"The professor made her weak. I think he's doing a good job at that. I don't need you to start," the general went on. Bunny didn't know who 'the professor' was. Her best guess was that it could be a term of endearment or someone's second name as everyone seemed to have one. "We are supposed to undo his mistakes - his shortsightedness. He's endangering our operations at every turn, and Bunny is supposed to be a fresh start!"

"You're calling her Bunny too?" the doctor said, a curious diversion from the topic at hand. "Shouldn't she be B-50 with you?"

Silence ruled the conversation for a pregnant pause.

"And so what if I am? Are you accusing me of something, doc?" the general growled aggressively.

"I've seen the biological sample used to create Bunny. I was helping Doctor Vanum with it. There's… nothing wrong with feeling… that way, general," Doctor Simmons was speaking deliberately, treading carefully with his words. Bunny couldn't figure out why. She couldn't even begin to understand what they meant with the kind of language they were using.

"Get back in there," the general deflected the doctor's insinuations. "I don't want to hear anything about the professor on the monitoring device again."

Then there were footsteps, growing louder. Someone - one of them - was coming back. Bunny shook in fright as she didn't feel like seeing General Blackwater when he sounded really mad outside. The door flew open, but gently. She stared at the doorway. Doctor Simmons. The fright in her, however, clung onto her stubbornly.

Looking at Bunny, Doctor Simmons knew exactly what she was feeling. Walking feebly towards her, looking dejected, he stroked her hair affectionately and exchanged another look with her, doing very well at holding back sadness. But Bunny knew how he felt.

"Let's… move on with our lesson," he said, even though he didn't feel like conducting it. "We'll talk about the different parts of the human body in order of attack priority…"

* * *

**Training Segment: Unarmed Combat**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 1424**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

"Good! Very good!" Bunny's martial arts instructor praised the rising star of the USDO after she was able to execute an excellent karate chop which managed to split a steel rod before her into two. That wasn't her only achievement, however, as she went on, as instructed, to put a deep dent in a steel plating next to it with a straight fist, and give another plate a kick so hard that it'd flown across the underground courtyard they were training in. A dull thud could be heard a second or two later when it landed. All this was done while Bunny was dressed in Karate uniform. It would be easy to imagine that she would be deadlier in her combat armor. "Good!"

"Bunny good!" the enhanced girl exclaimed excitedly when she had earned her stern instructor's approval. His martial arts instructor was a strict, unyielding man (more so than even General Blackwater), a black belt collector of martial art styles imported from Japan not too long ago. He had been rough with Bunny at the beginning of his training regimen, but when she proved to be the student of his dreams, he melted quickly into another sort of fatherly figure to Bunny, though that position was held by Professor Utonium first and General Blackwater second.

Speaking of the general, he had been watching from a bench, alongside Corporal Nana Weston and Sergeant Selicia Goodwin. All of them had been watching, their focus unbroken all the while, all of them with their own vested interest in the new kid around the block.

They continued watching, as Bunny began sparring with her instructor, going slow at first, then speeding up, with the black belt targeting strikes at her and Bunny parrying, redirecting or dodging. Even at his fullest speed, Bunny was untouchable, and even as the minutes passed, she showed no signs of exhaustion. Her instructor, on the other hand, could feel the heat building up in him, his limbs growing heavier, and he began winding down, then stopped.

"Did Bunny do good?" she asked, expecting the same praise she had grown addicted to.

"Yes, you did really well," the Japanese man praised the enhanced being, his accent thick. "Now attack, start slow like before. Ganbatte!"

It was far beyond what Selicia was capable of teaching Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. Her skills in unarmed combat was either learned on the streets, underhanded techniques with no regulation and theory, or in Organization training, which was a mishmash of many different styles (in less polite terms, a bastardization of many different styles of martial arts pillaged from their respective countries), designed for the modern battlefield as a last resort, emphasizing the killing stroke. Sure, she had picked up one or two other things along the way as a matter of curiosity, but she would never be able to take on a black belt.

Bunny was already outshining her elder sisters, and it had only been a day, with only the basics covered. Selicia couldn't even begin to imagine what she would resemble by the end of the crash course.

As if to prove Selicia's point, Bunny would quickly sail through her master's lessons, absorbing not only the basics of Karate, but that of several other styles of Japanese martial arts, such as Jujutsu, Aikido, and Judo then moving on to devour the Korean systems of Taekwondo and Hapkido. While her technique needed polishing all around, she had gone far above and beyond that which was expected of a first-day student. In the end, her prodigious Chemical X2 enhanced physical performance could easily make up for the deficit in skill - and more.

In fact, she would have gone on to master what she was taught. The only reason why she stopped learning was that they had run out of time.


	69. Chapter 63: Recreation

**Chapter 63: Recreation**

**Training Segment: Close Quarters Combat (Melee)**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 1605**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

"Never expose your body!" Bunny's martial arts instructor shouted when he was able to strike her in the side with his shinai multiple times within the space of seconds, despite her enhanced reflexes. "Not unless you can sacrifice defense for a clear advantage!"

Bunny was impressed by the man, who had introduced himself during the previous lesson as someone from Japan, a land far away and separated by an unimaginably vast stretch of water. Normal people were slow, but not him. Although, in reality, he could never beat Bunny in terms of raw physical performance, he was able to gain an advantage through misdirection, cunning, and experienced anticipation. Bunny had tried to block his attacks, but her moves, bumbling and lacking in concentration, would always come out short or misplaced.

He had been teaching her the fundamentals of kendo. But that wouldn't be all. She would soon be privy to other kinds of techniques belonging to other schools involving archaic weapons, something which her elder sisters were hardly exposed to, beyond a few stray common-sense lessons conducted by Selicia. General Blackwater had never thought it necessary, at least until recently, when Bunny came into the picture.

Things took a Sinocentric turn when the instructor had some men bring in a rack of weapons, filled with medieval implements of death of all shapes and sizes. From the Chinese straight sword known as the Jian to the Chinese spear known as the Qiang, from the Dao, a huge, machete-like weapon, to the intimidating Da Dao, which was similar to the aforementioned thing but mounted on a pole, Bunny would be drilled in their use, through both dance-like routines to practical 'fights' with wooden dummies. Through this exercise, she gained a much better understanding of footwork and its importance, as well as the theory of hand-to-hand weapons in general.

The lesson didn't end there, however. General Blackwater dismissed the Japanese instructor before taking over the class on his own. His lesson was much more humble in outlook - he simply handed Bunny a modern combat knife and brought her over to a dummy made of ballistic gel and filled with blood sacs and organs harvested from a dead pig, arranged to be roughly anatomically correct.

"Imagine that this is your enemy, Bunny," General Blackwater told the enhanced girl as she was staring at the grisly sight of animal organs stuffed into a human-shaped jelly-like substance made to simulate flesh. It even had a pig brain where the skull was, and pig eyes in front of it. "I want you to kill it."

Bunny stepped forward timidly, intimidated by the grotesque features of the organs-filled gel mannequin. Remembering her lessons, she stepped forward, then lunged at the artificial corpse, stabbing it in the heart with her combat knife by thrusting the weapon upwards with a frightened shout. She didn't put much energy into it, but the blade of her combat knife was able to sink all the way into the swine heart in one motion. She withdrew the blade after that, letting blood spurt out from one of the blood sacs she punctured. Some of it had gotten onto her, startling her and causing her to recoil.

Bunny stared at the result of her handiwork, eyes wide and jaws hanging as she forgot herself in the horror of the gore. It took her some time for her to remember what she was doing: impressing General Blackwater, or at least trying to. She turned to him with a bitter smile. She thought she could taste some of the blood on her lips.

"D-did Bunny do good?" she asked the general, almost pleading for some validation from him. The lack of a proud smile and his eyes, which projected unimpressed apathy and even boredom. He crossed his arms and Bunny's eyes drifted to the ground when she realized that she had somehow disappointed the general. It didn't matter why - she just did.

"That was weak, Bunny," the general growled, back to his usual self again, something which she was afraid to see after knowing how good he could be. "Do you know why you were weak?"

"Bunny don't know…" she said, both hands playing nervously with the combat knife. She was sliding the sharp edge of the blade on her fingers. It couldn't cut her, so she didn't know that it was improper.

"You were afraid, that's why," the general said. "You were afraid, and you still don't get it."

Gripping Bunny by the arm, he turned her around, and with his other hand on her head, turned it to force her to look at the ballistic gel mannequin.

"Look at it, Bunny!" General Blackwater bellowed. "Stop closing your eyes and look!"

Bunny did as he was told, wishing that he would stop, afraid that he would do worse if she didn't.

"It's just blood and a bloody dummy!" the general yelled into her ear. "Are you going to be afraid when you have to save Blossom or Bubbles? Or Buttercup? Because if that's so, you're useless! And everything we've been doing today would have been for nothing!"

The general let go of Bunny, and she turned around to face him, shocked that he had made a one-eighty turn and called her useless when he had praised her for being good before.

"I want you to take it on, attack the dummy like it's an enemy!" the general bellowed roughly, pushing Bunny back towards the organ-filled lump of ballistic gel. "Destroy it like it's going to kill your sisters! Go!"

Bunny whirled around, sending her combat knife singing past the mannequin's throat, slicing half the neck away - had it been a human being, it would have dropped dead then. With a shout, she then followed her first strike up with a stab to the head, then further repeated stabs in the heart, just like how she was thought. But she was still doing it wrong, she knew. She was afraid, and her attacks weren't the sharpest as a result. She had seen, clearly, one of her knife strikes missing the heart by half an inch, her blow to the brain didn't sink all the way to the knife's guard. Her shout was just advertising her fear; she sounded more like the victim of an attack than the attacker.

Looking back at General Blackwater, she could only hope that she had done enough. His crossed arms and glower told her otherwise. Without a word, the general walked away, leaving Bunny behind with the mutilated fake human being.

But then the general stopped after he was a distance away from Bunny, far enough to tell her that he held her with less regard.

"I think you must be exhausted. We'll take five before we continue," he said, before continuing on his way.

"But Bunny's not exhausted…" she mumbled to herself, her eyes closed while she was still facing the ground, trying extremely hard not to let the tears spill for fear that the general might become even more disappointed in her.

* * *

**Training Segment: Strategy and Tactics**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 1924**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

"You need to watch your flanks, Bunny," General Blackwater warned his protege as he pushed a knight on a game board up towards her in an L-shape, worryingly closer to her king. He had opted to start the next training segment with something he thought would capture Bunny's attention. A game of chess, the undefeated classic, the game of choice of kings and generals, and now, it would be the game of choice for the queen of all enhanced individuals. The lesson was held in a lounge, with dimmer lights that were easy on the eyes. The only bright light was a table lamp aimed at the chessboard.

Thus far, he was able to massacre Bunny's army in short order, with most of her pawns KIA and half her special pieces out for the count. Bunny was only able to inflict minor losses on General Blackwater's plastic division, with just a few pawns, a knight and a bishop dead - targets of opportunity that he gave her in order to secure footholds in her territory, as well as to set up kill zones to devastate her army.

"Bunny watch flanks…" she said obediently. In the next few turns, she followed his tip, and with the remnants of her army, attempted to reinforce her flanks, pushing them to the breaking point and sacrificing the few center kill zones she had left going for her.

The general then proceeded to wipe the floor with her - or at least the floor of the chessboard, with her inanimate minions. Bunny looked on in both awe and sadness. It wasn't even the first game they were playing. It was the third game, and she had improved little.

"You know what's your problem, Bunny?" the general growled at her, though this time, he wasn't as mad as before.

"Bunny bad…" she muttered as she continued to stare at the chessboard, and what was left of her white-donning medieval warriors. She stared at her hapless king, surrounded by intimidating enemies wearing black surcoats.

"That's not very specific," the general said. "You're still in the dark, huh? I told you to watch the flanks, and you did. And before that, I told you to beware the center, which you did. In our first game, you did everything as I asked, even after I told you I've held your hand long enough, just to teach you the game. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

"No…" Bunny said. Her eyes flitted up to meet the general's, only to go back down again.

"You're too naive, Bunny. I told you all those things to bring your defenses down, and you listened without thinking," the general revealed. "You are not your sisters, Bunny, but you're acting like them. As in dumb and naive. You're better than that, Bunny."

"Bunny try again…" she offered meekly. It took all her courage to do it, as she knew early on that it was the general who tended to initiate things, and it would be rude for her to do so. "Bunny's not dumb and naive."

And so they had another game, only for General Blackwater to beat her in a couple of moves. Bunny had moved a couple of pawns forward, only to inadvertently open up her king to an attack. The general had seen the opportunity from a mile away and moved his queen across the board to give her a line of sight against Bunny's king. With no place to move and no expendable soldiers to block the queen's sniper shot, it was all over before the match had really begun.

"Checkmate, Bunny," the general said simply, before leaning back. "Game over."

Bunny gave a sigh, though unexpected, a question floated to the surface of her mind.

"But why is it over? Bunny has many soldiers…" she asked, waving a hand at her army, which was completely intact and arrayed in formation against the general.

"Well…" the general started, but paused quickly, as he had to rack his brain to think of a simple way to explain things to the days-old Bunny. "In an army, there's always one man who gave all the orders. In your family's case, it's your Dad. In the Powerpuff Girls' case, it's Blossom."

Bunny smiled briefly when she remembered about Daddy. General Blackwater was really good at distracting her, making her forget about missing him. In some twisted way, Bunny liked the general for it, as it'd made missing Dad a little more bearable.

"In the USDO's case, it's me, and in your army's case, it's your king," the general went on. "Imagine what would happen if your Dad were to die, taken out by some sniper. What would happen to your family?"

"Bunny doesn't want Dad to die…" Bunny said, downcast upon the bare mention of Daddy going away forever.

"And that is why we have the queen," the general went on, picking up his black queen piece and handing it over to Bunny. "The pawns could only do so much - ordinary soldiers are numerous for a reason. Even the bishops, knights and rooks can't handle everything, that much is true whenever your sisters fail time and again. But the queen - the queen will make amends, turn the battle around… Will she?" He'd said this with eyes pinned on Bunny as if penetrating deep into her soul Bunny held the general's black queen piece even tighter. It was precious in her eyes, considering the feat it had performed - basically defeating an entire army in just two moves.

Bunny thought about Dad. She really didn't want to see the day when he wouldn't be there anymore.

She nodded to the general after that.

The general would see to it that she got to apply her new-found sense of logic and strategy to a more realistic and less abstract setting. At first, they swapped out the chessboard for what amounted to a highly realistic tabletop war game, complete with hundreds of soldier pieces - but the key difference was that realism was the only rule. The pieces could do anything as long as it was deemed realistic, logical or believable.

Instead of having black pieces go up against white pieces in a medieval setting, the war game was built to emulate the different factions of Townsville, with law enforcement agencies going up against the various forces of evil; the Foundation, criminal enterprises, and cults in the local area. There were even pieces representing the Powerpuff Girls and Bunny.

The first scenario was the easiest - a hundred USDO soldiers and police officers, the Powerpuff Girls and Bunny had put an army of gangsters, cultists and Foundation agents under siege in the town hall. Bunny was given control of the 'good guys' while General Blackwater was moving the 'bad guys'.

She would send all USDO soldiers and police officers rushing headlong towards the town hall, most hurtling towards the front, while the excess manpower was sent into the sides. This, despite sending them into a hail of bullets and grenades. Bunny would keep her sisters in reserve, far behind and idle, her reasoning being that she wanted them safe. She would then send herself through an opening that was available when an entire squad of USDO soldiers was cut down by machinegun fire. The soldiers and police officers had done little damage and killed few of the enemies, and when Bunny was inside the town hall, was only able to take down ten or so bad guys before she herself was rendered unconscious by too much pain from too many gunshots, before being dragged off and abducted to be interrogated and experimented upon by the Foundation. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup wouldn't be far behind in the near future - at least, that was General Blackwater's narration of the events that transpired in the tabletop scenario.

Bunny would hone her tactics after that, using what the general had taught her in chess. Rather than applying pressure at a single spot, she would form a line around the town hall and prod at the enemy's defenses, losing few men in the process, and when there was a gap in their defense - the general had introduced one in the form of a gaping hole in the side of the town hall - she would flood it with troops.

"I know how you feel about your sisters," the general had said in the middle of this. "But you can't hold on to them so tightly when they're powerful in their own ways. They are assets you must use."

"But what if they get hurt?" she asked while the war game was frozen in time like a diorama produced by an obsessed hobbyist. "Bunny love sisters…"

"Sometimes, when you love someone, you have to let them go…" the general said, with surprising warmth, eyes softened as he stared down at Bunny. "You just have to watch over them and make sure they're safe, like the good leader you are."

"Okay…" Bunny said, once again won over by the general's way with words, as direct and gruff as he was. In the war game, she would direct her sisters to drop down on the enemy when it was fully encircled by the combined USDO-TPD task force, and she herself would go in to add chaos to the misery of the besieged criminals. A fair number of soldiers and police officers died, but Bunny and her sisters survived without being abducted.

"Did Bunny do good?" she would ask again as she was looking down on the town hall map filled with figurines that were knocked over, representing their 'dead' status.

"You did great, cadet," the general praised the enhanced girl, with a barely-suppressed smile on his face. "But that's just the warm-up…"

Bunny would next be treated to a scenario where the only piece she was in control of was herself, the purple-black ops figurine. Set in a rural plantation, the USDO-TPD task force numbers were reduced to half the size. Because of this, all they could do was hide behind vehicles or other barriers to trade gunshots with the larger Foundation-Criminal-Cult coalition. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were directed by General Blackwater, the game master, to smash through the roof of the plantation house and begin slaughtering criminals. Bunny decided that speed was key here to protect her sisters, so she moved her piece through the front entrance of the town hall, fighting through the numerous enemy guards there. Bogged down by the overwhelming numbers, she was taken down by the sheer firepower directed at her. Her sisters eventually succumbed without reinforcement.

"Oh…" Bunny said sadly as she watched General Blackwater knocking down the Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup figurines, which symbolized their defeat. Instead of waiting for him to do the same to her, she lay her piece face-down as well.

"You can't let your feelings get in the way of your objectives, Bunny, whatever that may be," the general lectured her. But Bunny wasn't listening. Disappointed with herself, she was close to tears. It was all the worst, as she was supposed to be better than this, as the general had mentioned countless times. The general sighed and thought about the best tactical maneuver to approach the Bunny situation. In the end, he put a beefy hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "This is a simulation, Bunny. While I want you to get it right, don't take it too hard. If you want to help your sisters, you need to be stronger than this. We'll take five before continuing."

Bunny turned to the general in surprise as he went on his way to the break room. He had never spoken to her that way before, and she liked it so much that she was tearing up anyway.

"Come on," the general beckoned for her to follow him after opening the door, and a bright light shone in. Smiling, she trailed behind him, Professor Utonium, once again, forgotten in her distraction.


	70. Chapter 64: Rabbits

**Chapter 64: Rabbits**

'It's been fun, Dad. Daddy is right about this place. Bunny gets to learn new things and meet new people. General Blackwater was really mean and not nice to me, but h-he was nice after that. He taught me a lot of cool stuff, gave me a lot of presents, like a new dress that looks really pretty and lots of toys, and he talks to me like Dad does… sometimes. Bunny met Mister Simmons too, and he's a lot like Daddy. Bunny don't think Mister Simmons and General Blackwater are friends though. What's… that word? T-they were shouting at each other, and I don't think friends shout at each other.

Bunny still miss you, Daddy… I miss you so much (sobbing). It's nice to make friends but… Friends are not the same as Daddy. Bunny wants Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup too. Bunny never got to play with sisters (sobbing). Mommy's been staying away from me. I don't know why (sobbing). Did Bunny do something bad? When I asked General Blackwater about it, General Blackwater said that we are just busy, and Mommy's been busy too, and it's just how it is when people are doing work and trying to help people like Bunny's sisters.

Bunny can't wait to come back. Bunny finally get to see Mommy again soon. Mister Simmons said that Mom's going to teach me some things like you did. Goodbye Daddy, and goodnight, sound recorder.' - Bunny Utonium, 02/26/89, 2053. Sound Record File 1.

* * *

**Training Segment: Rest and Recreation**

**Date: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Time: 2155**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

The last hour had been less eventful for Bunny, but it was hardly boring by any definition. After taking a quick shower (a sergeant assigned to watch over her made sure that it was a really quick shower) and after a similarly quick meal, she got to really be with her Mom again. With Dad absent, it was her turn to teach her new words, and by General Blackwater's orders, simple mathematics; adding and subtracting numbers up to a hundred and the times table.

When that painful affair was over, Bunny was called to the general's office again. After knocking on his door, she entered the room and was met with a most interesting sight. Sitting on General Blackwater's desk was a cage. There was a white, fluffy rabbit in it. The general was bending over it, caressing the rabbit, which did not seem afraid of him. He looked up when he noticed that Bunny was staring at him.

"Evenin', Bunny," the general greeted. He was finally out of his tactical gear. This time, he was wearing a standard-issue USDO shirt with the trousers of his uniform and boots still on. His ID tags were hanging loosely on his neck. "Don't just stand there, cadet. Come over here and meet your new friend."

Bunny scooted over to the general eagerly, pressing her face close to the cage as she watched the rabbit twitch its whiskers, flexing its nose and turning to look at her with its dark, beady eyes.

"This here specimen is what you call a rabbit," the general introduced the creature to her. "Her name is Rabbit. Here-" Picking up the rabbit by the skin of its nape, the general plopped it into Bunny's arms. The rabbit did not resist - it was entirely obedient and submissive.

"Dad told me about rabbits!" Bunny exclaimed in excitement as she wasted no time to stroke the creature's luscious fur.

"Do you like it?" the general asked, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

"Rabbit's beautiful!" Bunny said.

"I knew you'd say that. How about you keep it?" the general proposed. Bunny's eyes went up to meet the general's, all happy and starry and grateful. "Let's go to your bunk. I'll teach you how to take care of it. It's a heavy responsibility I believe you'll be able to handle…"

But that wasn't the only thing the general did. After teaching Bunny how to care for Rabbit the rabbit (an odd name choice that Bunny did little but laugh at), the general ordered Selicia to leave the room.

It was bedtime, and General Blackwater had a very different idea of what would make a really good bedtime story. He would tell her about his very own exploits, turning the period before she fell asleep into a stealthy lesson with the most pragmatic moral ever. He told her about his participation in World War II as a young enlistee, how he had become involved in the war long before other Americans did. He told her about him aiding in the hunt for Rommel until he and his squad was called away to a very special mission where he would find an ancient tomb. He would go on to battle a monster found deep inside it, which had likely been wandering its massive halls and catacomb-like corridors for millenniums, or been woken up by the Nazis and Imperial Italian legionaries who disturbed the underground necropolis. He would describe the battle in agonizing detail, and that he had, in the end, triumphed.

"And that is why there's nothing wrong with retreating - as long as you're doing it to survive and find another way to defeat your enemies," General Blackwater pretty much spelt out the moral of the story, referencing how he and other surviving soldiers had retreated into a room filled with black water, only for him to find a Duranium spear that helped him defeat the monster in the tomb. The monster was the very first enhanced creature he had ever faced - some kind of an arthropod, though not entirely, that wouldn't have looked out of place in a primordial age - and its death had been his crowning achievement for a very long time. In a way, it still was. "And when you survive, you'll go on to do more."

"What happened to General Blackwater's friends?" Bunny asked timidly as she gazed up at her general, completely enraptured by the story he told, by the stories he would tell.

"Call me Carver. Douglas Carver. I'll leave the middle name out for now. I'm off-duty," the general introduced himself for real this time. "Just don't do it in front of anyone."

"What happened to Mister Douglas Carver's friends?" Bunny repeated her question as she turned a little in bed so as to better face the general. She felt a certain connection to him, despite the man pushing her away from him at times.

"They… died one after the other over the years. Of all the men who went into that tomb, I was the only one left," the general said. He leaned back on his chair, his face out of the light from the table lamp beside Bunny's cot.

"Mister Douglas must be lonely…" Bunny surmised, feeling sad for the old man. "Does Mister Douglas have his own family? Like a Dad? And Mom? And sisters?"

"My parents are long dead. I have two brothers and a sister - families were huge back in the day. I think I have about nine or so nephews and nieces running around, with their own children. Wife's dead, and my children - John and Eleanor, either doesn't know I'm still alive or doesn't care," the general went on. From the glint of his eyes still visible in the dark, Bunny thought she could make out that the general was upset, though she couldn't be sure. "Last I heard, John's some officer in the army while Eleanor ran a chain of restaurant, got married and had several children. I haven't seen them in more than a decade. But I'm proud of them - they are their father's children..."

"Mister Douglas must be really lonely…" Bunny added to her previous speculation.

"Lonely? Hardly. I have hundreds of soldiers here at headquarters and more around the country and the world," the general said. He sounded like he wanted to say more, add some things to his list, but hesitated and sighed. "You should sleep, Bunny. Training will get harder tomorrow. Make me proud."

"Yes, Mister Douglas…" Bunny obeyed and yawned before closing her eyes.

An hour passed, then two. While Bunny slept, the door to her bunk opened. Bunny did not notice, of course, as she was asleep and snoring loudly like Buttercup. A shadow crept into the room, watched only by Rabbit the rabbit, and it stood over Bunny as if contemplating over a range of things it could do to her while she was helpless as a baby. The shadow watched Bunny as she breathed in and out in her sleep, a bolster and a rabbit soft toy in her arms. Carefully, the shadow wrapped its hand around the neck of the rabbit toy, a gift from Bubbles, and tugged at it. Bunny's arm fell away, unconsciously relinquishing control over the soft toy. Soon, the shadow was able to possess it. Shaking with silent laughter, it retreated out the door and away, the door closing by itself with all evidence of it ever being there gone.

A further three hours passed, and Bunny stirred awake, having slept her fill. Five hours was considered excessive to Bunny, as she usually needed just four. However, it was still early, as the next training session wasn't until ten minutes later.

Sitting up from her bed, Bunny stretched her arms and her back, yawning heartily. Putting her bolster aside, she searched her bed for her precious rabbit soft toy, but couldn't find it. It'd concerned her, as it was precious to her because of its origin. Swinging down from her bed, Bunny looked underneath it for the elusive soft toy, only to find nothing, again. Panic began welling up in her when she realized that it was missing, and quite seemingly of its own accord too as if it were alive.

Selicia walked in on Bunny while she was still searching for Bubbles' gift. She was supposed to be ready and waiting outside her bunk a few minutes ago.

"Bunny, what on Earth are you doing!?" Selicia scolded the enhanced girl. The room was being turned upside down in Bunny's frenzied quest for her missing rabbit soft toy.

"Bunny's doll gone!" the enhanced girl wailed as she upturned her cot to search the floor below it. But there was no such luck. "BUNNY'S DOLL GONE!"

"You're supposed to be ready for training, Bunny!" Selicia shouted in disbelief. Bunny had never acted this way before. Even her new rabbit (the living one) seemed to realize what was going on and was hiding futilely in a corner of its cage.

"But Bunny's doll gone!" Bunny repeated herself - she had gone through the length and breadth of her bunk, turning it into a warzone, and yet her rabbit soft toy was still missing. She sunk to the floor and cried inconsolably.

"Look, we'll search for it after training-" Selicia tried to reason with her, only for Bunny to blow up:

"Bunny doll gone!" she repeated herself as she cried. "Bubbles gave Bunny doll and it's gone!"

The door opened once again, and another sergeant, a third party in charge of Bunny's discipline, walked in as well.

"What in the hell is goin' on here!?" the sergeant barked at Bunny. "You were supposed to be out five minutes ago! We have to wait for you now like a row of maids, princess!?"

"She's just been having trouble finding her favorite toy, that's all," Selicia explained apologetically to the drill sergeant, whose face turned from one of utter rage to one of disbelief.

"Just get her a new one! We need to move, now, now, now! Move it, soldier!" the sergeant barked regardless. Marching over to Bunny, he grabbed her by the upper arm and tried to drag her to her feet. Bunny screamed like an animal and wrenched herself away from him however, collapsing to the floor chest first. She wouldn't get up after that and instead kept on crying there, beating the floor with her hands and feet in a childish tantrum. The drill sergeant, in the meantime, was thrown into the upturned cot. He groaned in pain there and didn't get up immediately.

The training program was falling apart - all because of a missing soft toy.

And Selicia wouldn't have it. It was making her mad - Bunny had reminded her of Bubbles; how weak she was, how she couldn't live up to the potential she had in her. But now, Bunny was making Bubbles look good. Gritting her teeth, it was Selicia's turn to march up to Bunny. Just like the sergeant before her, she picked her up by the arm, dragging her to her knees, and before she could get away, Selicia delivered a slap across her cheek, letting the enhanced girl drop to her elbow, clutching her cheek as she looked up at her Mom in shock.

"Knock it off, Bunny Utonium!" Selicia bellowed at Bunny. "You're ruining everything over a stupid toy! So get up, get dressed and get out!"

Bunny, however, became too shocked to move instead, after getting that slap in the face. Selicia had to do everything for her in the end, and it took much longer than before. She had to skip a shower to make up for the lost time.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" Selicia remarked while she was helping Bunny to put her uniform on, softening up her voice when Bunny finally calmed down - at least on the outside. "I'd rather risk my life and limb going on a hunt for Blisstina again than do this at this rate…"

"General Blackwater's going to kill us all," the drill sergeant said while he was watching Bunny get ready - it was all he could do at the moment.

* * *

**Training Segment: Day 2 Revision**

**Date: 27 FEB (Monday) 1989**

**Time: 0517**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

There was a knock on the door. General Blackwater swiveled around in his chair to face it. He was already dressed in tactical gear - one could never be too careful these days. He had faced numerous assassination attempts before, whether it was perpetrated by the Foundation spies or Organization dissidents, it mattered little. In fact, he was surprised that no one had tried to assassinate him in his time in Townsville yet. He took a suck out of his cigar and puffed out the smoke. Normally, he wouldn't smoke, but times were changing, dragging him along for the ride, and even he was feeling a little nervous. As well as a whole lot of other things.

Whoever it was on the other side of the door knocked again on the glass pane of his office door. He hadn't seen who it was yet, not even on the CCTV monitor on his desk linked to the camera outside, but he had a pretty good idea who it was.

Training was supposed to commence at o-five-hundred hours. If he was pissed, he wasn't showing it.

"Get in here!" he called out to the person on the other side of the door after blowing out another lungful of smoke. The door opened. It was Selicia, holding a visibly upset Bunny by the hand, leading her in. Her cheeks and eyes were reddened, stained with tears. There was no subtlety to it.

"What is this?" the general questioned mother and daughter, unsmiling. It was that side of the general the both of them were afraid of. He turned to Bunny, specifically, who shrank away from his gaze as if it could shred Kevlar. She'd done it so hard that she had accidentally pushed her Mom back, who winced and egged her forward again. "Are you aware that you're late?"

"Bunny lost her soft toy is all, general. She was trying to find it," Selicia explained, but the general didn't even look up at her.

"I was talking to Miss Bunny Utonium, not you," he merely said, again without looking up at the sergeant. "Why don't you leave me and the kid be, Selicia Goodwin."

The Mom knew better than to object, despite her instincts telling her otherwise. The best she could do was to caress Bunny in the head one last time before walking out of the room. The best she could hope for was punishment for Bunny.

"Explain yourself, Bunny," the general demanded. Taking the cigar out of his mouth, he snuffed it out on an ashtray. Bunny thought it was for the better. The smell was horrible. Leaning back on his high-backed leather chair, he stared at Bunny, awaiting her explanation.

"Bunny lost toy…" the enhanced girl mumbled, unable to bring herself to look at the man she had just recently befriended - yet, the general felt like something more than just a friend. It made the moment all the harder to take. She forced herself to face him eye-to-eye. She knew he liked that. "Bunny's favorite toy…"

"So you wasted time - time dedicated to training so you may help your sisters - because of a toy?" the general said. For some reason, he seemed to be disconnected from this, beyond a wave of slight, seething anger churning beneath him. "Is your precious toy more valuable than your sisters?"

"No…" Bunny said. Her eyes searched the floor as she processed what the general had said, connecting the dots. She remembered why she was here - to train to be like her crime-fighting sisters and even exceed their capabilities so that she could protect them who were weaker - and it hit her that she had messed up. "Bunny's sorry…"

"It was a test, Bunny, and you have failed your test," the general added. "Had this been on the field, the consequences would have been dire. You would have jeopardized one mission or another." He pressed the buzzer on his desk after that. The door flung open shortly, and in walked Bunny's drill sergeant and in his hands was her rabbit soft toy, her treasured gift from Bubbles.

At this point, Bunny wasn't sure whether to be happy or upset - too many emotions were running through her, more than she could handle. Being raised in a simpler and more doting environment, she would tend to feel one thing at a time.

The drill sergeant saluted and went around General Blackwater's desk, dumping the white rabbit soft toy beside the general after that and promptly leaving. The general grabbed the toy by the artificial ears.

"Do you know how you lost your toy in the first place?" the general pressed Bunny. Bunny shook her head, face pale from shock at the turn of events, from the fear that things might get worse. "You let your guard down. YOU let your guard down and you lost your toy. And that wasn't even the worst consequence. Sergeant McKinsey was able to sneak up on you. If he were an enemy, he would have killed you. If there were anyone around you, relying on you, he would have killed them too."

"Bunny's sorry…" she cried, tears on the verge of spilling again, but she tried her best to hold it in, knowing that the general hated it. Surprisingly, it was harder than walking around in a 100-pounds-something protective suit, or firing a Browning heavy machinegun from the hip, or beating a multidisciplinary black belt at his own game.

"I don't need you to be sorry," General Blackwater growled. "I need you to be on your guard and be careful. If you like your toy so much, you'd better hold onto it tighter, just like how I want you to hold onto your friends and family tighter from now on, because one mistake and you could lose them all, do you understand?"

"Yes…" Bunny said.

"Don't lose it again, and I don't just mean the doll," the general said, handing the soft toy over. After studying the general's posture and the rabbit toy for a moment, aware that he could be trying to trick her, she swiped for it. No, there were no tricks this time, and she was able to get it back. Bunny cried as she hugged it closely, remembering how sweet Bubbles was to her.

The next hour was spent on revision, though with her, revision and examinations were one and the same. She was tested on everything she had learned the previous day. The general played a huge part in her revisions and was secretly delighted when she was far more serious than she was the previous day. After being woken up by her planned tragedy in the morning.

She was able to remember every radio alphabets from Alpha to Zulu, translate codes to their actual contents, and run through multiple entire radio scenarios without pausing or making mistakes. When given three random weapons, one after the other, she was able to name them, strip them, put them back together again and finally, fire them with near-perfect accuracy, with any deviation the fault of the weapons she was given, not hers. Whether attacked by an unarmed USDO operative or one who was armed with a sword or spear, she was able to come out unscathed and victorious. Finally, she was able to hold out against General Blackwater for numerous turns, whether it was in chess or his realistic Townsville tabletop game…

And in the latter, all she had to do was sacrifice one of her three sisters, thinking to herself that it was something that would never happen in real life.


	71. Chapter 65: Games

**Chapter 65: Games**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 0655.**

Selicia was finally able to sit in her own bed after a day of absence in her own home. But it didn't bring her any joy or relief. She wasn't supposed to be home, not for another two days, but here she was.

Bunny wasn't with her. The general had dismissed Selicia and sent her packing with no reasons given. Selicia, however, knew the reason. It didn't need to be said between them and she understood when the general would just stare her down in her debriefing. She'd seen the way the general was looking at Bunny, and it scared her. She had never seen General Blackwater that way before. But it couldn't be. Why would the general ever become attached to her? Enhanced beings had killed most of the friends and comrades he knew intimately in the USDO - he hated them with a passion. Hated them for decades. Even with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, who were clearly on his side and obedient to his command (for the most part), he was barely able to stop himself from acting out in anger towards them.

Why the change now?

She thought that she was either getting in the general's way or that she had failed him this morning, by allowing Bunny's discipline to slacken. But it didn't matter. Either way, she was no longer with Bunny any longer; she had failed, and now she was afraid of what the general would put her through in her absence.

It was still early, and Selicia had returned home much earlier after Bunny had reported to the general. The first thing she did was to check up on her sweetie - Thomas Upton. She was sitting close to him, stroking his hair affectionately. He seemed to have responded, turning for a moment before putting a hand over hers, but she knew he wasn't awake.

After a few minutes of watching him, she went to the Girls' room and sat on Buttercup's side of the queen-sized bed, caressing her back. She, too, responded subconsciously, hugging her thigh where she sat.

When the family came down to the kitchen and living room, they would be surprised to see her…

* * *

**Training Segment: Vehicular Operations**

**Date: 27 FEB (Monday) 1989**

**Time: 0738**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

"And this, right here, is where you load the tank's cannon shell," General Blackwater pointed out the loading station of the tank he and Bunny were in. It was cramped inside, but Bunny's smaller size and having fewer soldiers in the turret made it less claustrophobic. The general was sitting in the commander's seat, and Bunny was in the gunner's. They were previously in the driver's cockpit, and Bunny actually got to drive the tank, which was an old M60 Patton tank that the USDO had purchased off the army.

After the revisions, the general and his motorcade had driven Bunny to the closest US army base to conduct a lesson in vehicular operations. The parking complex of the USDO headquarters was too small, too enclosed and too exposed to the public eye, and even Townsville's national guard depot would have compromised the secretive nature of Bunny's training. The nearby US army base, Fort Crassusvale, thus, became the ideal training ground.

Bunny liked it very much, being this close to General Blackwater. The limited space of the tank felt cozy to her, and it gave her an excuse to get even closer to him than before. In the driver's cockpit, she was even sitting on his lap, though he was clearly grunting and wincing from her weight - she was wearing her protective suit, which made her weight the equivalent of a heavy adult.

The training was more than just about piloting a tank, however, much to Bunny's delight. She got to do the same with the USDO's (admittedly antiquated) APCs, the more modern IFVs, Humvees, old Jeeps, all the way down to common civilian trucks, vans, and cars. An entire fleet of vehicles had been assembled for her training. If it hadn't been top-secret, it would have attracted a huge crowd of onlookers, but since it was, just a small gathering of high-ranking officers was observing.

"You see this joystick-looking thing here?" General Blackwater patted the top of a stick beside him while he was sitting in the shotgun seat of an old Toyota car. Bunny was in the driver's seat, turning the steering wheel gently while she was running laps around the army base. "That's the gear. You shift it while you are speeding up or slowing down."

It would have been a funny sight, seeing an 8-year-old driving a car, right next to the fact that Bunny wasn't even a week old yet. Her eyes were barely high enough to be able to look over the dashboard of the car, but thankfully, the general thought, she was created to be physically eight, and a tall one at that. Had it been Blossom, the car seat would have needed several encyclopedias for a boost and the pedals, bricks.

Mastering the use of a car, however, didn't spell the end of the lesson.

"Did your father teach you how to ride a bike?" the general asked Bunny while she was concentrating on making a three-point turn so that she could reverse the car and park it next to a Jeep she had done the same with not too long ago.

"Yes… it was the funnest day ever," Bunny said. She couldn't help but reminisce on it, and it distracted her, causing her to scrape the back of her training car against the Jeep, likely damaging the paint. The impact jolted her, and she quickly corrected her error. "Oops…"

"Good to know that Utonium took my suggestion," the general mumbled to himself, before turning to Bunny. "I'm about to do the same."

They got out of the car, and the general led Bunny to a warehouse. One would have expected it to be filled with spare hardware, but it was empty except for a solitary cargo truck, which the general and Bunny approached. A man in USDO uniform who was standing beside it saluted quickly before opening the shutter at the back of the truck. With the help of an assistant disembarking from the cab of the truck, they dropped a ramp built into the truck. Before they entered the cargo compartment, however, the general stopped them and did it himself, disappearing into the darkness while Bunny waited in anticipation of another surprise.

There was a clunk emanating from inside the truck. It didn't take long after that for Bunny to see Douglas Carver emerge from the darkness with his hands on the handles of a… bike.

It wasn't the kind that Daddy bought her. It looked bulkier, and heavier, with machinery attached to it.

It was a motorcycle, and it was clearly for her because of its purple color theme. The general was wheeling it out with a smile on his face, which soon spread to Bunny.

"Is it…" she was so surprised that she couldn't complete her sentence. "Is it for- for…"

"Yes, Bunny, it's for you. As in, you get to ride it and take it home," the general answered nonetheless, pleased that the enhanced girl liked the bike. He wheeled it over to her, and she picked it up effortlessly to inspect the mid-section of the bike and the engine. "Gentle, Bunny."

"It's different from the bike Dad gave Bunny…" she said before putting it down again. The numerous controls confused her, though she was beginning to put together what some of the parts were for. The bike had its own dashboard, though it was smaller, and there were pedals, too, like the other vehicles she drove.

"It's not just any kind of motorcycle, either," the general said. "It's custom-made. Bigger engines, bulletproof armor and some compartments for weapons."

"I can teach you how to ride it, but it's similar to riding a bicycle," the general went on and offered, an offer that Bunny took up immediately. Pretty soon, she was riding the bike around the army base at high speeds. The general had turned it into the game to see how fast she could circumnavigate the base while he smoked a cigar and sat on the hood of a humvee, timing her.

And that was when he discovered something. He thought he could see trails of light emanating from behind Bunny while she was zooming around the base, analogous to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's whenever they flew or ran at high speeds. Professor Utonium would call it an X-energy contrail, an effect produced by the consumption of Chemical X when light and used Chemical X were released as waste energy and matter. It meant that Bunny was already drawing on the Chemical X2 in her body, and for more than just lifting weights or running.

He would later find out the rough perimeter of the army base, and when he did the calculations, realize that she had somehow pushed the motorcycle beyond its top speed. He would later get Doctor Vanum to verify his findings as he couldn't find it within himself to trust his antiquated high school education, but his math would be found to be accurate, and Doctor Vanum would also put his stamp of approval on his findings. With what the doctor knew, he was able to explain it either: Bunny had harnessed her Chemical X2 to build up some X-thrust, propelling her and the bike beyond the top speed of the vehicle. A biological, built-in Nitro system, in other words.

* * *

**Training Segment: Stealth and Subterfuge**

**Date: 27 FEB (Monday) 1989**

**Time: 1045**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: In Training**

After learning how to drive way before her time, Bunny was driven away from the rural country back into the city. She was brought to the outskirts of the city where an abandoned mall sat, the same one where Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were given their one-day crash course.

General Blackwater did not tell her immediately what the next activity was, however. The first thing they did was a 'treasure hunt', when the general would lead Bunny from room to room in search of weapons and items that would be advantageous to her in any given mission. The first room she went to was a summer wear shop, with the shelves nearly empty - surprisingly, there were still a few odd pairs of shirts and pants still lying around. Bunny would take from this room what her training had prepared her to recognize - a fire extinguisher served as a nasty bludgeon or mist machine, a pair of scissors in the drawer of an old cashier counter for blinding or killing and a measuring tape that could double as a garrote wire for strangling.

"The point of improvising and scavenging, Bunny, is not always about the offensive," General Blackwater lectured Bunny after she laid out everything she had found in front of him. He walked over to a shelf containing some old and dusty shirts and pants and an odd cap. He picked them up. "These, for instance."

"But what can Bunny do with those?" the enhanced girl laughed.

"Reminds me of that one time during the Vietnam War. I pulled the uniform off a dead soldier and set it up as a distraction. Two communists fell for it, and it was their last mistake," the general explained, before simplifying it when he realized he had been reminiscing too much selfishly, using words that Bunny would never understand. He walked over to the cashier counter and put the cap on its surface. "You can make it look like you are there."

"Oh…" Bunny said upon realizing the endless possibilities that came with picking up various odds and ends.

"It doesn't have to be a discarded cap. If you have a helmet or a headphone, those could work too, if you set them upright," the general said, then moved on to hold the shirt he salvaged from the store shelf in front of her. "Rags like these could be burned as a distraction, or even thrown right into your enemy's face to disorientate him. With your mighty strength, it might even hurt him."

They would go from room to room, picking up odds and ends for use in an imaginary mission. It wasn't just a treasure hunt anymore - Bunny would have fun imagining how she could use all the junk she had salvaged from her surroundings to defeat the hypothetical evil enemies who would hurt her sisters.

Going through the backdoor of the summer wear shop, Bunny would pick up a fire ax and a loose pipe with obvious applications, then a first-aid kit and a flashlight as utilities. She would also move on to pick up a rat to either serve as emergency rations or as a distraction especially when forced into a pail she found that would rattle and cause a commotion as the rat tried to get out of it. The pail was also good for hiding a grenade, claymore or any other kinds of explosive charges.

In an employee washroom, she wasn't able to procure much… Until the general taught her that, sometimes, she would have to break things to use them. Bunny proceeded to beak a mirror to obtain multiple shards of glass, useful for looking around corners, or stabbing men in the neck while they were rounding said corners.

After the treasure hunt and guessing game, Bunny was taught how to sneak around quietly. General Blackwater had done it with both practical instructions and a game of hide-and-seek. She was set loose on a squad of USDO soldiers after that.

The scenario used had been the same one as what her predecessors had been put through. A group of renegade USDO soldiers had deserted and holed themselves up in a clothes shop within the mall. The only thing that was different was the objective - Bunny was tasked with assassinating the leader without alerting the rest of the defectors.

Bunny was deployed outside the abandoned mall, the same as her sisters. Unlike her sisters, however, she was alone and armed only with a suppressed pistol and several flashbangs and smoke grenades.

Jogging towards the mall, Bunny hid behind a derelict car and spied on the roof of the mall. When she spotted no one, she ran as fast as she could towards a side door, rivaling the running speed of her sisters. Passing through an employees-only corridor, she got into the mall and hid among some boxes. There were numerous boxes and other obstacles between her and the shop containing her target. Peeking over her hiding spot, she saw four USDO soldiers guarding the side facing her. She strained her eyes to try to look through the unclean display windows of the shop. Something odd happened to her vision - it was as though things got bigger and clearer when she strained her eyes hard enough. Sure enough, she could see moving shapes in the shop. She had found the place where her target was hiding.

Her thought process had been similar to Blossom's, though her approach was different - superior, even, because of her training. The way to the shop was treacherous, and it was tougher for Bunny since her detection would end the scenario. Looking up, she saw that there were corridors stretching out across the mall on the next floor, and one such sky corridor was close enough to the shop that she could use it to get above the USDO soldiers without them noticing.

She waited, took occasional peeks from the shadows to see if the guards were looking, and when they had gone back into the shop, she ran up a flight of stairs, her steps lighter than her armor would indicate. Running across bridges and corridors, she got to the one directly overlooking the clothes shop, and after taking a deep, quivering breath, climbed over the railing and hung by her hands before letting herself drop down to the roof of the shop. The impact of her fall was much lighter than she anticipated. She was actually worried that she might even crash through the roof, but it was as if she was slowing down the closer she fell to the ground - it was exactly the same thing her elder sisters experienced when they had to let themselves fall a great height.

Her ideas weren't original. General Blackwater had given her breadcrumbs to follow in the form of his lesson in stealth - how to hide when to observe the enemy, how to run quietly, how to drop down from a great height without making lots of noise and…

Scurrying into a ventilation duct, she crawled through it by sliding across its metal surface to reduce the warping in the flimsy metal. Being small helped - despite being larger than her elder siblings and weighted down by her heavy armor, she was still in a better position to sneak around in the vents than a regular soldier.

She could hear the 'defectors' in the shop talking. General Blackwater instructed her to keep her ears peeled for information she might use, and she did. The men simulating the enemy had made sure to spill all kinds of useful information in between pointless banter.

'We'll be patrolling the mall, the eight of us,' one of the soldiers said, before leaving, and Bunny heard her on the way through the vents, unsure of where it would take her. Bunny mentally patted herself on the back when she heard it. It was good information. It meant fewer enemies who could spot her while she was trying to get to their leader.

'I bet she's out there among the boxes, like last time,' one of them mentioned. It confused Bunny at first, as there was no last time, but it was a relief as it meant that she had made the right choice, staying out of the field of boxes. Had she tried to take her time inching closer to the shop through the sea of boxes on the boulevard, she would have been caught and the game would be over.

There was one thing that made the rest of the information she gathered just by being in the vents pale in comparison, in terms of importance.

'Where's Lieutenant Burke?' one of the men had asked, unaware that Bunny had sneaked into the vents, listening.

'He's looking over some maps in the back, the employee room, I think - the place is old, I don't even know what that room is for, really,' the other soldier replied. Bunny wasn't able to understand everything, but she understood enough.

'In the back', that was where the leader of the deserters was. Crawling through the vents towards the back, it didn't take long for Bunny to find the man; she recognized him as General Blackwater had shown her a picture of him. With his helmet off, replaced with a cap, it was easy for her to see his face. The stripe on his shoulder gave his officer rank away.

Clutching the ventilation grill, she gave it a gentle, quiet push and drew her suppressed pistol. There was a loud, metallic thunk when the grill fell, but before the defecting officer could even turn to look at the vents, Bunny had already shot him in the skull.

Had it all been real, the bullet would have scrambled the officer's brain. Instead, it had merely activated a laser sensor on his cap and signaled that he had been shot.

"You got me, Bunny," the officer merely said instead with a smile and acted as if the 'bullet' had a real impact in an exaggerated fashion after that. Bunny laughed, and it was good fun. The soldiers had been instructed by the general, on pain of jail time if they failed to adhere to his orders, to treat her well - as a real kid, preferably - not that Bunny was told about this general order.


	72. Chapter 66: Big Deal

**Chapter 66: Big Deal**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 0745.**

While waiting for Thomas Upton, Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup to wake up, Selicia had taken it upon herself to prepare breakfast for them. Smiley-face hashbrowns, bacon, scrambled eggs and sandwiches with orange juice to wash them down. She figured that they would make for a good reunion meal.

When Professor Utonium and the original Three were coming down the stairs together, the first sign of Selicia's presence had been the sound of kitchenware and cooking. Then it was the smell of something scrumptious. It'd enticed all four of them to investigate, only to find, to their surprise, that it was Mom. Selicia.

"Morning, dears," she greeted them just in time to set the table.

"Selicia!" Thomas uttered in surprise. "I thought you were-"

"Mom!" Buttercup cried and flew into her arms, hugging her possessively. Blossom and Bubbles, however, kept their distance warily.

"Aren't the two of you glad to see me? C'mere…" Selicia said to the Girls. Not wanting to contradict or disobey her in front of Dad, they floated over to her for a reluctant group hug.

"It's General Blackwater, Tom," Selicia finally explained to the professor. "He… just told me to leave. He didn't tell me why."

The professor knew what it meant.

"But- what about Bunny?" he asked. The previous day had been dreadful for him. Unproductive. Unbearable. He couldn't stop wondering what the general was making her do, what he was doing to her. And he knew that it was affecting the entire family, that surely, Bunny's elder sisters were concerned about her as well. What he did not know, however, was that he had retreated into himself, isolated himself, more than what he was aware of, and he was affecting his older adopted daughters just as much, if not much more so than Bunny when it came to Blossom and Buttercup.

Selicia shook her head. She was quiet at first, but she expected the worst. She was Bunny's assigned mother, and it wasn't just a professional position to her. She would like to believe that she wasn't just some dog handler. Despite her history, Bunny was growing on her. The general knew that too. What he was planning needed her out of the way.

"She's not worse off even if you put her next to our other Girls…" Selicia said though the pauses in her voice had betrayed her lacking confidence. "The general's actually taking good care of her. He knows that Bunny is an 'asset'."

It was all subjective, of course, as to what 'taking good care' of someone constituted. Selicia knew this, and so did the professor.

"Ugh, can we stop talking about Bunny now!?" Buttercup interrupted impatiently while eyeing both Mom and the breakfast she made, making it known with just her eyes that she needed both. Bubbles shot her an accusing look, but Blossom didn't.

"When is it our turn, Dad?" Blossom said cryptically, and though it had caught both her Dad and Mom's attention, neither of them knew what she meant. Neither did Professor Utonium had the time to wonder. Worried sick about Bunny, he marched over to his phone.

Selicia was there in the USDO headquarters to protect and nurture Bunny where he couldn't, and now even she was separated from her too. The professor knew he had to do something, anything, to ensure Bunny's safety.

* * *

**Phone Recording 02271989-0754-TH**

**DOC: 27 FEB (Monday) 1989.**

**Extracted: 27 FEB 1989.**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: Uh-yyyello?

Professor Utonium: Wiggums, hey, I really need your help right now.

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: It's been a while since I last heard from you. Anything you want - what is it?

Professor Utonium: Do you know about Bunny?

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: Only everything there is to know. Never underestimate the logistician! I know about the kind of hardware she's been loaded with, the kind of training she's been put through… all through the requests I've been handed.

Professor Utonium: Has she been… abused in any way, Wiggums?

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: Besides the technicality that child soldiers are illegal and any kind of military training pushed onto Bunny is illegal? Not really.

Professor Utonium: What do you mean 'not really'?

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: It's only been a day, Upton. The serious stuff tends to happen much later, maybe later today, or tonight. It's just basically orientation for now. But…

Professor Utonium: Please, Wiggums, but what?

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: I'm sure it's nothing - besides, General Blackwater seems to have taken a liking to Bunny, believe it or not, so I don't think he's going to do anything drastic.

Professor Utonium: You need to tell me! I'm her father!

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: Alright, man. Calm down a little! Look, it might just be nothing, but General Blackwater ordered in the same things you did for your labs a while ago. That expensive Duranium table you commissioned a few weeks ago? He's got that too. That, and Duranium surgical tools. But I don't think that's the thing you should be worried about. I heard people talk, and my clearance is high enough for me to listen.

Professor Utonium: What is it?

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: They're training her to be the perfect killer, prof. No qualms, no remorse, just shoot to kill. They're screwing with her mind to do it.

Professor Utonium: …

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: Professor? Thomas?

Professor Utonium: Please, Wiggums. I need someone there, anyone there to help my Bunny. I'm asking you for help because I know General Blackwater. He'd expect someone from the research department or the medical wing to hinder him.

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: What do you want me to do, Thomas? I don't think there's anything we can do. It's the general we're talking about here.

Professor Utonium: Whatever it takes. Please. I'm supposed to be responsible for her - I wish I could be there for her, and now Selicia's no longer there-

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: She's gone? I don't even know-

Professor Utonium: Yes, she is. General Blackwater kicked her out.

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: Look, Tom. We've been friends for a long time, but as much as I wanted to help, I can't. And for Bunny's own sake and yours, don't cross the general. It could only end one way.

Professor Utonium: You're a worm, you know that? A cowardly worm who's afraid of the light! And that's an insult to worms because you're an even lower order of life form! I thought I can trust you!

Chief of Logistics Wiggums: So trust me. Don't do anything stupid, and I won't. I gotta go, got papers to fill and all that. Don't be rash. (Hangs up)

Professor Utonium: Don't- Wiggums! Damn it… (Hangs up)

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten Complex.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1124.**

As usual, during Townsville's renewed crime wave, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had to attend school in their uniforms and gear.

"Stop touching my flashbang!" Blossom pushed Mac away for the umpteenth time again while she was trying to solve the math question Miss Keane had written on the blackboard. Mac, undeterred, like a moth attracted to a light bulb, came up to her again in an attempt to pull Blossom's flashbang off her vest while she tried to resume her mental exercise. His finger had come close to remove the safety pin this time. Frustrated, Blossom seized Mac by the arm and gave it a twist one-handed, restraining Mac.

"Ow! Bloss! Miss Keane! Blossom's hurting me!" Mac cried out in pain.

"Mac's been trying to set off my flashbang!" Blossom defended herself. "I don't like flashbangs when they blow up in my face!" It'd happened before, after all, so Blossom was speaking from experience. Miss Keane, who'd been writing more math questions on the blackboard with her chalk, turned around, seemingly nonchalant but a little exasperated. She knew right away who was at fault from the beginning:

"Mac, you know you're not supposed to touch things that don't belong to you," Miss Keane lectured the boy, moving forward while she did after putting down her chalk. "Or detonate someone else's flashbang for that matter!"

"But-" Mac tried to say, only for Miss Keane to interrupt him.

"Sit behind the table next to me, Mac," the school teacher ordered. Knowing better than to go against an authority figure, Mac did as she was told. "Now, does anyone know the answer to five plus seven?"

The USDO hotline rang before Blossom could volunteer her answer, much to her frustration. Things hadn't been going well at all for her, ever since Mom came back. Bunny was all her Dad could talk about when she did, not that he was involved in the trio's activities since the younger enhanced girl's departure.

Blossom flew to the phone and picked it up before its horrid buzzing could annoy her any further, her grenades, guns, and gear clattering as she did.

To add to the list of things going wrong ever since Bunny was that she had to attend to a crime in the middle of class - for the millionth time. The last time she had one good, uninterrupted class at school felt like a lifetime ago, and it probably was, as she had only just celebrated her third month's birthday - it was a pain to the enhanced little girl that even Bubbles, her sweetest sister, couldn't fully understand. Buttercup, on the other hand, couldn't care less about class, and Blossom knew exactly what she wanted.

The reason for the call had made things worse, drilled into Blossom's head that she was cursed the moment she was no longer the apple in her Daddy's eyes, though such expressive language was still lost on her. There was a school shootout in a high school downtown, and the Powerpuff Girls were needed to break the siege that ensued. A teenage boy was the perpetrator, and by the time they had gotten to him, he had already killed several students and a staff member. Multiple times the number were wounded. As he was armed with assault weapons, explosives, and hostages, the police needed an alternate solution to sending in vulnerable police officers and SWAT team, and risk the school blowing up in their faces.

The teenager was young and suicidal, so emotionally affected that he'd given away the fact that he had rigged multiple tiers of doors to explode. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had crashed through the window. They couldn't talk him out of it. Buttercup had asked several times to kill him, but Blossom was able to knock him out. The teenage boy had actually fired upon them, perhaps hoping to commit suicide by Powerpuff Girls. When Blossom asked him why he'd killed after handcuffing him, he mumbled that it was because no one cared about him, even when he'd suffered neglect and bullying for years.

It'd hit Blossom really hard.

But the world didn't stop for her even then. The police had directed her to another situation that required the Three's intervention. Detective Mullens, Olivia and Stanley Talker were nowhere to be seen. Even Detective Wednesday was out there, somewhere, but not with her.

By the time Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup had reached their second assignment, there was nothing to be done. They were directed to the outskirts of the city, the edge of the wilderness where their experiences had almost always been bad. That had remained true, still.

There were reports of cultist activities of the hardcore, illegal kind. By the time they got there, all they found was a ritual circle drawn in the dirt, marked by candles and blood. A little girl, five years old, was sacrificed in the center of it, a knife to the heart. The cultists did not know decency - only the idol of their worship - and the girl's corpse was left naked and splayed out in the middle of the circle, with what appeared to be a symbol resembling a devil's head carved into her forehead.

The cultists were never eradicated despite their best efforts. If anything, they were emboldened.

That had struck Blossom really hard, too.

It was no coincidence that the sacrificed child resembled her, even if superficially. She had a similar hair color, about the same length of hair, perhaps shorter by a couple of inches. Freckles were forming, and would, now, never form. She was intelligent-looking, with an air of so much potential - but no longer.

Bubbles was reduced to a hunched, blubbering and crying mess kneeling on the floor after seeing it. But it wasn't just because of the brutality of the cultist's deed that struck her down. It'd reminded her of her own shameful deeds.

Buttercup, though, remained Buttercup. She tried her best to appear uncaring, even disgusted and nonplussed, but the scene fascinated her that she dropped the act the moment she thought her sisters weren't looking. She remembered the cultist who sacrificed himself for her depraved pleasure back in the Silver Age Cinema, and she wondered again, as she did many nights, if she would be offered the same sacrifice again someday.

The day, however, was far from over. Shortly after discovering the ritualistic cult murder and reporting what they experienced (anticlimactic as it was) to the police, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were called up on the way home, and they hadn't even eaten lunch yet.

"This is the chief of Precinct 77. Same arrangement as before, except on Umbridge Street around the Apartments," the caller went right to business without warning and without pause. He didn't even try to be friendly. "The black car will be there by the alley between 55 and 56 at thirty past three. Keep a low profile and don't be late."

As quickly as the 'chief of Precinct 77' called, he hung up. Blossom wasn't even able to say a word to him.

"What is it, Blossom?" Bubbles asked.

"It's the Amoeba Boys," Blossom said, and although she didn't know about it, it'd made Bubbles nervous. "The man on the tele said it'd be the same as before."

"At least we'll get some action this way!" Buttercup was practically whooping with joy.

At Umbridge Street, they stood in the alley, waiting. The man did say to keep a low profile, a term Blossom understood from her months of law enforcement. Bubbles mewled with nervous anticipation while Buttercup was excited, doing air punches as if warming up for another slugfest.

When the time came, a black car pulled over in front of them. Though the car was black, it was of a different make and brand as the previous one. The shotgun seat door opened, and the slim gangster popped out from behind the door.

"Hey, Powerpuff Girls, your chariot awaits. Hop in!" the thin man said. The Girls exchanged looks before piling into the backseat, which was more spacious than the previous one.

"Welcome back, Miss Blossom, Miss Bubbles and Miss Buttercup," the driver, the thickset man who was still wearing his dark blue suit, said as he began driving them towards… somewhere (Blossom knew they would be visiting the Lombardi Mansion). They were both wearing shades, but all three Girls knew that they were the same people who picked them up as before. The voice was the same, and so was the mannerism. Still, Blossom knew that they had deliberately hidden their features just enough to be both anonymous and innocuous at the same time, in equal measure.

The car ride was silent for a time, and they crossed a couple of junctions without a word spoken.

"The name's Fedele Palladino, by the way," the big man introduced himself belatedly, out of the blue. The slim gangster didn't. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but I'm the three dons'… what shall I call it? I'm their executor, you understand, no?"

"It's nice to know your name, Mister Fedele Palladino," Blossom tried to defuse the tense atmosphere by saying. "It's a really pretty name."

"What's an executor?" Bubbles asked before Blossom could, for once.

"I thought you like fairy tales, Bubbles?" Buttercup interceded before anyone else could speak. "He kills people, duh!"

What Buttercup said managed to coax raucous, broken laughter from both of the men in the car, as though she was some stand-up comedian who'd just performed a routine.

"What?" she asked brashly and aggressively, confused as to why she had attracted their ridicule. "What did I say wrong?"

"I'm an executor, not an executioner, capiche? You know, like the man who presses the button men. People don't die around me. Well, not usually. That's the kind of business other men around me attend to, see," Palladino explained, as though he was talking to a bunch of new blood joining the family.

"It's good that you don't kill, Mister Fedele Palladino," Blossom added.

"Look, kid, it's really awkward for you to call me by my full name all the time," the executor said. "Just call me Palladino, Mister Palladino will do."

"Why aren't there any snacks here, Mister Palladino?" Buttercup demanded after digging through the pouches behind the front seats and finding nothing to chew on. She'd had potato chips the last time and wanted more. "I'm hungry! And you're supposed to put snacks in here for us to eat!"

"Not after you made a mess the last time, girlie!" Fedele accused the tomboy. With his eyes still on the road, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out something in a package. With a softer tone, he continued: "Here's something less crunchy and crumbly - I heard girls like this sort of thing."

The high-ranking gangster stuck the package behind him, and Buttercup took it. It turned out to be a packaged box of chocolate, something she would love to have. It reminded her of that time more than two months ago when Wiggums, her Dad's friend, visited with chocolates only for her Dad to throw the confectionery away. Buttercup had to pick them out of the trash and eat them at midnight because of it. Thankfully, Buttercup was rendered immune to disease by her Chemical X enhancements, or she might have risked food poisoning there and then.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1418.**

When Fedele Palladino parked the black car within the compound of the Lombardi Mansion, it was business as usual. The big man scolded Buttercup for creating a mess in the back seat. He and the thin man would then escort the Powerpuff Girls through the mansion towards the Amoeba Boys, except somewhere along the journey, Mister Palladino would take the Girls down a different path, veering towards the back of the mansion on the second floor, rather than rising to the top.

Doors after doors were opened, crossing room after room until they reached another set of open doors, which they knew would reveal the Amoeba Boys when opened. They knew it because they were stripped of their armor and weapons again.

True enough, when Palladino and his partner opened the doors, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup could see the trio of Lombardi dons sitting around one small end of a grand dining table, with white napkins tucked into their collars. A huge array of food was piled up close to them.

The Girls, now in just their field uniforms, exchanged looks before looking behind. Blossom was hoping for the now more familiar Palladino to tell them what to do next, but the big man had merely disappeared behind the double doors after glancing at them for just a moment. In unison, the Girls went back to staring at the Amoeba Boys, unsure of what was going on, confused by what they should do.

"Ah, if it isn't the Powerpuff Girls!" Bossman exclaimed in seeming jubilation from across the room. His voice had carried really well across the massive dining hall. "Please, come, join us!"

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup looked at each other again before Blossom floated towards them at a slow speed, hoping that showing some manners and etiquette would lead to a more peaceful discussion compared to the last time. Bubbles and Buttercup followed her lead, hovering at the same speed and height as her.

"We've been waiting, haha," Junior, the smallest of the three, said with his usual impish demeanor.

After landing closer to the Amoeba Boys, the Girls padded towards them, rounding a corner of the grand dining table, but stood where they were when they got close. Blossom studied them while Bubbles' gaze had drifted, as it always did, to the floor while Buttercup's went upwards, to the table full of food that looked fit for royalty.

"Miss Blossom, Miss Bubbles, and Miss Buttercup, please," Bossman greeted the Girls once more, before waving his beefy hand at some empty seats before him. "Have the three of you had lunch?"

"We were going to, but we had a call," Blossom explained as she took her seat - which just so happened to be the one next to Bossman, who was sitting at the head of the table. Bubbles was too shy to sit so close to the biggest don of the Lombardi, while Buttercup wanted a spot close to most of the food. "We were asked to come down here, and I was thinking of eating my field rations." She pulled a silver packet out of her thigh pocket and showed it to Bossman. "It's… not very nice."

"Good thing we're celebrating then," Bossman said, smiling at the buffet laid out before them, before remembering about his enhanced guests. He waved his hand again, this time at the food. "Why not have lunch with us… and celebrate?"

"I don't mind," Buttercup said. She didn't wait for anyone to start. The chocolate she ate earlier hadn't hit the bottom - instead, it'd done exactly the opposite and made her crave for more. She began piling food on her plate, and the first thing he did was to chomp down on a steak, splattering brown sauce all over her face and table.

"But why are we celebrating?" Blossom asked, more hungry for information than food. For her, the few pieces of chocolate she ate would have to do until she'd find out what she wanted to know. Bubbles, on the other hand, had only taken small amounts of baked potatoes and venison as a form of courtesy, nibbling on them nervously as she watched and listened while Blossom and Bossman had their conversation.

"Why, only a few things, of course," Bossman said, jubilant - which didn't suit his voice and demeanor. "My, uh, path to redemption, yeah. And… our partnership."

"Partnership?" Blossom said, confused. She barely knew the word, much less what it was supposed to mean in this context.

"Isn't that what we shared? Me, the Head Don Ricci, and you, Blossom Utonium," he explained, leaning towards her. Despite the fact that they were no longer fighting one another, Blossom still had to fight the urge to lean away from the mob boss. He placed his massive arm around her tiny shoulders. "Together, we cleaned up the slums! Chased out the rats plaguing it!"

"But…" Blossom said, and couldn't finish her sentence at first. The day had weighed heavily on her shoulders, much more so than Bossman's arm around her. It was so bad that she could no longer cringe on being touched by the leader of the Amoeba Boys. "Is it over? It didn't feel like it. It was horrible today…"

Slim and Junior couldn't help but throw their heads back in laughter. Bossman threw a glare at them when they did this. On getting the message, they tried to stifle their laughter and ended up giggling quietly. Finding this acceptable enough, the Head Don returned to Blossom.

"I'm a man with strings of… considerable length, Miss Blossom," Bossman said, in what seemed to be an attempt at comforting a little girl. His growling voice had, somehow, become more tame to Blossom's ears though it hadn't changed. "I wouldn't want my partner to be so troubled. I'll talk to my pals, see if I could put an end to all those inconveniences in town. I'm sure I can with their help."

Blossom was close to tears. The cultic sacrifice of the little girl who looked like her was still fresh on her mind. Bossman patted her on the back before withdrawing his arm away from her.

"You will?" Blossom said, surprised at the lengths her former enemy would go to make things better for her.

"Yeah, of course!" he said, before shifting his eyes to his wine glass. He stared at his own reflection. "But… As powerful as I am… There are many things I don't control. I would be lying if punching Don Exposito's card is the end to all our problems."

"There are more like him?" Blossom asked though she knew what the answer would be, and that answer scared her. She hated killing, even if it was killing someone as heinous as Bossman said he was. She glanced at her sisters briefly. Buttercup was busy stripping a chicken drumstick down to the bone, while Bubbles looked absolutely lifeless.

"Many, many more…" Bossman said. He signaled for a servant to come over without even looking at him. That servant had a wine bottle with him, and he proceeded to pour Bossman a glass of the wine. The liquid was almost black - but it might as well be. As if rehearsed, the waiter wordlessly poured Blossom a glass as well. That was when the head of the Lombardi noticed what was going into Blossom's glass. "What the hell is that?"

"Only the finest from the cellar, boss," the servant said. "Just like what you ordered."

"Jeez, you trying to get the kid drunk?" Bossman reprimanded the servant. "I thought I corrected myself and ordered sparkling grape juice instead?"

"Sorry, boss, I must have forgotten," the servant apologized, then reached for Blossom's glass to get rid of it. Bossman grabbed his arm.

"Just- leave it. No point wasting good wine - never waste, that's what I'd say," Bossman lectured the servant. "Just go. I'll deal with you later." Afraid, the servant turned around and left quickly, walking briskly for the doors, almost breaking into a jog. The Bossman turned to Blossom, who had been watching with mild interest, still upset over how the day went.

"Tell you what, Blossom Utonium," Bossman continued. "I scratch your back, and you'll scratch mine. How 'bout that?"

"Huh?" Blossom enunciated, unclear about what Bossman meant - expressions were still a relatively new thing to her. Plus, being upset wasn't doing any favors for her cognitive ability.

"It's hard to hear that there's a hundred Don Expositos out there, I get it," Bossman said. "But if we work together… We'll clean up the city in no time - as partners." He picked up his wine glass, in a style befitting an aristocrat, holding it in front of him but not drinking it. "I'll work to stop all the small-timers from starting their schoolyard fights and petty tit-for-tats, and you'll help me help those evil crime bosses check out. Do we have an understanding… Partner?"

"I guess…" Blossom agreed reluctantly - numerous thoughts were going through her head, faster than the speed of light. It had been hard enough to kill one - a figurative hundred as a mere thought felt like death to her soul. Then there was still the fact that she was working with an enemy. She felt unease because of it despite all the reassurances she got that it was fine, that she was doing the right thing. Something was wrong - but she couldn't understand what. There were contradictions everywhere that she could feel but not rationalize with any clarity.

"Then pick up your glass, Blossom," Bossman said to her. Bossom did as she was told, pinching the glass' stem instead. The don held his glass of wine towards her. The gesture confused Blossom, and so Bossman had to instruct her: "Clink your glass against mine, Blossom. We'll drink to this deal and seal it."

Blossom did as she was told, before drinking the wine. The taste was horrible, but not entirely so. There was some sweetness to it, mixed in with bitterness. But it felt like something she could get used to. Thankfully, her liver, enhanced with Chemical X, had ensured that it would take many times the amount and concentration of alcohol to inebriate her.


	73. Chapter 67: Doing Harm

**Chapter 67: Doing Harm**

**B-50 Training Report 02261989-A**

**DOC: 26 FEB (Sunday) 1989**

**Created by: General Blackwater**

**Title: B-50 Training Report 02261989-A**

Below is a summary of B-50's progress in training.

**Training Segment: Orientation**

Time: 0600-0620

Description: B-50 is given primers on how to behave, what to expect and what is expected of her, and why she is training.

Results: Successful. B-50 has attached herself to me. She is now more compliant. I believe I will be able to exert limited control over her. This is possible in short notice due to her childish and naive nature.

**Training Segment: Standard Equipment**

Time: 0625-0700

Description: B-50 is introduced to and taught the use of standard-issue equipment as agreed upon through meetings 02151989B, 02221989F, and 02241989A.

Results: Successful. B-50 is familiar with the identity, function, and use of her standard equipment. Her photographic memory helped.

**Training Segment: Firearms Training**

Time: 0710-1100

Description: B-50 is trained in the use and maintenance of common and uncommon firearms, both military and civilian grade models.

Results: Successful. B-50 is now more proficient with firearms than even a fully-trained soldier. Being stronger than a bulldozer has made carrying and firing even a gun meant for stationary emplacement a non-issue.

**Training Segment: Communications**

Time: 1130-1245

Description: B-50 is taught military communications theory as well as the basics of language.

Results: Successful. B-50 has achieved greater confidence in the use of English. She has become a viable substitute for any communications officer in the USDO. Again, her photographic memory is a factor to the speed at which this is achieved.

**Training Segment: Human Anatomy**

Time: 1300-1400

Description: B-50 is given an introduction to the human body, its organs and how it works. She is also taught how to cripple any part of the human body, cause pain or fatality.

Results: Mixed Success. B-50 is even able to gain full marks on a questionnaire presenting different scenarios with different objectives ranging from killing to torture. However, Doctor Simmons might have compromised her willingness to complete missions by talking to her about Professor Utonium, who is a bad influence on her. Photographic memory helped.

**Training Segment: Unarmed Combat**

Time: 1400-1600

Description: B-50 is trained in the basic theory and practicals of unarmed combat, in systems including Karate, Jujitsu, Aikido, Judo, Taekwondo, Hapkido as well as selected techniques, subject to availability as provided by our in-house instructor, from styles found in other parts of the world.

Results: Successful. While there is only so much B-50 could absorb despite her photographic memory, fine motor skills and enhanced physique, what she is able to master are devastating when applied by her due to the multi-ton force she is able to apply. It takes many years of practice for a Karate black belt to be able to break a cinderblock. B-50's aptitude has reduced that process down to within minutes. Her enhanced strength, stamina, speed, and reflexes had made her second to none even before she was trained.

**Training Segment: Close Quarters Combat (Melee)**

Time: 1600-1830

Description: B50 is taught numerous systems dealing with the use of archaic weapons, which will be useful even with modern-day batons, truncheons and improvised weapons scrounged from the environment. The instructor is to inculcate an appreciation for the ways of Kendo, Kyudo, and Iaido as well as general Chinese kungfu. Local 'western' styles would have been implemented had there been an available and appropriate instructor, but with the best we can hope for being a re-enactor, that option has been delayed at best.

Results: Successful. B-50 will be ready if she is forced to resort to more brutal measures than a suppressed pistol in the field. Factors same as above.

**Training Segment: Strategy and Tactics**

Time: 1900-2100

Description: B-50's mind is molded for tactical flexibility and acumen.

Results: Beyond successful. She has also been successfully taught the value of sacrifice, even to the point of ignoring her own feelings. All factors have been covered and will not be mentioned again.

**Training Segment: Rest & Recreation**

Time: 2100-2200

Description: B-50 is allowed R&R as a reward for her good behavior. Had her performance been poor, R&R would have been replaced with a punishment regime. Sergeant Selicia Goodwin, B-50's assigned handler, has been ordered to provide educational value to the R&R.

Results: Successful. Nothing additional to report.

**Training Segment: Orientation 2**

Time: 2200-0500(Next day)

Description: Disguised and doubling as bedtime, B-50 is taught in this lesson the value of alertness and awareness. The training segment is also aimed at making B-50 more compliant through capitalizing on B-50's need for connection in a way more beneficial than Professor Utonium's method.

Results: Successful. Nothing to report.

* * *

**B-50 Training Report 02271989-A**

**DOC: 27 FEB (Monday) 1989**

**Created by: General Blackwater**

**Title: B-50 Training Report 02271989-A**

**Training Segment: Day 2 Revision**

Time: 0500-0630

Description: The revision is meant to test B-50's retention of knowledge and skills. The content of this test is drawn at random from her previous lessons.

Results: Successful. However, B-50 was late for the revision as a side effect of the second orientation, through no fault of her own. Based on Professor Utonium's reports and experience with the prototypes B-47, B-48 and B-49, B-50's neurological make-up are that of a child's, and as such, will act like it, and be sensitive like one.

**Training Segment: Vehicular Operations**

Time: 0700-1000

Description: B-50 is taught, in this training session, how to drive a wide selection of vehicles. Though the fleet assembled for this use is not exhaustive, it will give her a general overview of the common control schemes found in all vehicles.

Results: Mostly successful. B-50 will be able to operate most vehicles confidently, though not without mistakes. Her carelessness can be remedied with more driving hours, and will eventually be eliminated with experience in the field. She seems to prefer the motorbike issued to her to everything else.

**Training Segment: Stealth and Subterfuge**

Time: 1030-1230

Description: B-50 is to be taught the art of stealth and field operations taking place behind enemy lines. She will be taught how to sneak, hide and infiltrate and apply it practically to pursue an objective in a simulation.

Results: Successful. B-50 apparently has a talent for sneaking around and tactically achieving the objective without undue expenditure in time and energy. Based on the analysis of the camera feed, she appears to be exhibiting the same developments that would lead to airborne capabilities, such as being able to produce brief spurts of thrusting force from parts of her body - this allowed her to land softly from a great height.

**Training Segment: Psychological Warfare**

Time: 1330-1430

Description: B-50 is given a quick overview of the human mind and how it responds to stimuli, with an emphasis on fear. She is then encouraged to brainstorm of ways to scare and destroy the morale of hypothetical enemies.

Results: Successful. B-50 was able to create multiple hypothetical scenarios that have been rated by a panel of five judges, which includes members of the security, social services, and psychiatric department, as suitably unnerving. Details will be available once cleared through the administrative department.

**Training Segment: Human Anatomy 2**

Time: 1430-1530

Description: Building off on the first anatomy lesson, B-50 is, this time, taught the best way to provide first-aid to it, rather than destroy it. The class is taught by combat medic Sergeant Joy.

Results: Successful. B-50 is now certified to provide first-aid.

**Training Segment: Interrogation Resistance**

Time: 1530-2130

Description: [REDACTED]

Results: Successful. [REDACTED]

**Training Segment: Rest & Recreation 2**

Time: 2130-0500

Description: [REDACTED]

Results: [REDACTED]

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 2218.**

"You need to eat, Bunny," Wiggums tried to encourage the USDO's latest enhanced individual, but she wouldn't even face him. She was lying in her cot, resting on her side and facing the wall with the rabbit soft toy held tightly to her chest. She hadn't even showered and was still a singlet and short jogging pants, both of which smelled of sweat, though they had long dried out. Her left arm was in a sling. Blood had poked through the fabric. "I know what happened to you is terrible, but your father wouldn't want you to starve."

Bunny was silent. Balancing a bowl of soup, on one hand, Wiggums clutched her by the arm and tried to turn her.

"Go away!" Bunny yelped, before swiping her good arm at him, knocking the bowl of soup clean off his hand. "Leave me alone!" She glared at Wiggums childishly, her eyes completely bereft of the same kind of innocence found in her just hours before. One of them was ringed with bruising, as was one of her cheeks.

Wiggums sighed, before picking up the bowl. It wasn't the first bowl of soup that had spilled, and he wasn't the first person to try to coax Bunny into eating something. The drill sergeant in charge of Bunny had… encountered resistance when he tried to get her to shower and eat, as was prescribed by her training program. He didn't succeed and had to be put in the medical wing.

There was a knock on the door, but it opened even when no permission was given to open it. Bunny knew who it was, and she curled up into a fetal position when she heard, with her enhanced sense of hearing, footsteps and breathing consistent with the man who had ordered her ordeal materialized in a previous lesson.

"Wiggums, get the hell out," the voice boomed. Bunny shuddered at the baritone booming. "You're not even supposed to be here." Without a word, Wiggums mopped up the mess on the floor quickly with a piece of rag and left, brushing shoulders with the huge man replacing him.

There was silence after that. Bunny knew that the new presence in the room was watching her. She refused to give him the same respect she used to give. But it couldn't just be that - she was, after all, not even a week old. She was terrified. Angry, too, just like how he taught her, ironically.

"Bunny," the voice said, unconcerned with her fear and anger.

"Look at me," it compelled Bunny to turn and sit up, and she did - not because she truly wanted to, but because her past with the man meant something, and her relationship with the man still do. Despite what he had done to her, she still wanted it to mean something.

She was only able to lay her eyes on the man for a second before her eyes flitted away to the floor, where the remains of her supper were. She could still smell it in the air, and though it was sweet, she didn't have the appetite to recognize the appeal of the aroma.

"I said LOOK AT ME!" the voice strongly compelled her to do so, and this time, Bunny affixed her gaze, confused and upset as it was, on the man before her. It was General Blackwater. The general's massive paw found its way to a chair. The chair screeched as he pulled it towards her and set it down next to her cot. Sitting down, the chair creaking, he growled more calmly: "Tell me about what you're thinking and feeling. I won't yell at you as long as you don't disobey me again."

Bunny could barely keep her face from contorting into a mask of sadness. She took a deep breath and tried to bury her sadness, only for another feeling to take over. Anger.

"You hurt me, Mister Blackwater-" Bunny cried, glaring at the general. She never thought she could do that.

"Douglas Carver. Please call me that," the general corrected the enhanced girl. He looked like he was caught on the fence between wanting to smile and wanting to appeal to the strange bond between them.

"You put me in that- that metal table and you hurt me," Bunny said, her voice and body both shivering with anger born from betrayal. The general couldn't help but smile. Bunny had begun using pronouns, finally. It was a habit he thought she would adopt. The change was catalyzed by torture of all things. "I trusted you, Mister Carver, and you hurt me."

"Bunny, I-" the general wanted to explain things, but found that his words were stuck in his throat. The previous 'lesson' had been traumatic for him too. As cold and strict and severe as the general were, he was never really sadistic. His bloodlust was reserved exclusively for his enemies. "What I did… hurt me too." It was hard for him to admit any form of weakness, even understandable ones, all the same. Given the choice, he wouldn't want to admit that there was a chink in his armor.

"Then why did you hurt me!?" Bunny yelled, crying. She couldn't hold it back. It was impossible for her to understand the general - she'd thought he was harmless, even if loud and abrasive. The only person she liked more was dear old Dad. Yet, not only had he cut her with a scalpel, and shot her with a huge and scary-looking gun, he had pounded her with some kind of a mechanical arm device, something that loan the general greater strength. And he had humiliated her before then by tricking her into getting on the table before fastening her there. He'd torn her uniform away before that, to make her more accessible. She was naked for hours, vulnerable, and not just physically.

And that wasn't even the worst part. He'd said all sorts of things. 'Your family is hiding, Bunny', he'd said. 'I want you to kill them all,' he'd ordered her. 'I want you to plan, verbally, in great detail, how you will kill them,' Bunny would refuse, of course, which would usually be followed by pain, pain which she had never felt before. Pain of all sorts, as if they were different tastes or different kinds of smell.

"It was for your own good, Bunny," the general explained, his growl softer. He felt pain in his eyes, a kind of pain he hadn't felt in a long time. "I was teaching you some important lessons. You need to know how pain feels like… You need to know how betrayal feels like… and now you do. I was teaching you what your enemies would do to you if they have you - that is what they will do to you."

"I hate you!" Bunny cried uncontrollably.

"Good. Hate… is good, Bunny. I've always taught you the right things, haven't I?" the general continued when Bunny fell silent.

"Yes…" Bunny said, reluctantly, still crying.

"This is so it wouldn't hurt as bad when you're out there," the general, sensing that he was breaking ground, went on. "When you're out there, helping your sisters, you can't slow down because of pain, or when supposed friends turn against you. Even if your own sisters turn against you, you cannot stop!"

"But why would they turn against me?" Bunny asked, wiping away tears with her good arm.

"They won't always understand what you're doing, Bunny," the general explained. "They might think you're trying to hurt them when you're actually doing good. Do you understand?"

"I… Yes…" Bunny said, and she was sincere. The general's logic had clicked in her, though it was still hazy. It'd reminded her of Dad, how he would teach her how to walk. She would fall and she would cry, but dear old Dad would continue to push her to walk upright the next hour, the next day until she was more steady and no longer fell down. It'd hurt, but it was good.

It'd occurred to her then that pain wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"This is important because even your elder sisters won't know that they are doing harm sometimes," the general went on. He took Bunny by the hand, which stiffened up. "But let me tell you what you are, Bunny. It was tough, what I did, but I can see now that you are a loyal, and determined, and strong little girl."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Little Tokyo Business Hub. The Tri-Chrysanthemum Twin Tower.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1623.**

"-You've continued to serve him well, and he smiles upon you…" a Japanese woman in a red hooded cloak said to a conference table full of Yakuza clan heads, speaking in Japanese. "He knows of your intentions, of your selfishness, but that is immaterial to his generosity - good service must be met with good reward…"

The red-cloaked woman was guarded by two men in similar attire, except better clothed where the woman wore nothing, not even a singlet, not even the shortest pants or underwear or shoes beneath her cloak hanging on her shoulders. How she could stand the temperature outside was beyond the powerful crime lords in the same room as her, but they didn't care; they were mesmerized both by what nakedness was showing in the opening of her cloak and the reward she was about to present them.

A fourth person in hellish red emerged through the portal leading into the conference room, bearing a black casing. He handed it over to the woman at the head of the red procession, who placed it down at her end of the conference table. Opening it, she revealed a collection of four katanas to the men. Taking one out, she unsheathed it, showing off the blade to them. It shimmered in one color then the next, seemingly at random and in mockery of physics. Duranium.

"These blades are forged by the very same hands guiding thousands of His faithful in this city," the Japanese woman said. "It will cut down even the traitorous Shadowkins they call 'The Powerpuff Girls', should they meddle in your affairs…"

"Your master's generosity is much appreciated," the head of the Yakuza, who sat appropriately at the head of the conference table, replied in Japanese. He was wearing a smart business suit of black and white, like half the men at the table. The others had the black swapped for some other dark color. "However, like the bonsai in my garden or my children, friendship and loyalty must be maintained and cultivated anew. I am sure your master has more in mind - the profits we've earned is reward enough. What does your lord desire we do?"

"You have been hard at work, distributing His gift to the many in this part of the city," the woman in red reflected. "He wants you to continue, but swiftly. The unbelievers and traitors in this city are beginning to take notice, and there might come a time in the near future when He will have a use for those who partook in his gift."

The high-ranking members of the Yakuza were confused by what the woman had said. They exchanged looks and whispers for a while before their absolute leader called for silence.

"We'll do as you ask," he said. He stood up, and his underbosses did the same. He bowed, and they followed. "Thank you for gracing us with your presence."

That was when the explosion happened. As if something had detonated on the same floor as them, rocking the office the Yakuza called home. Then there were the shouts and screams and soon, gunshots.

"The Shadowkin traitors are here," the woman in red said, a grin forming on her face. "It seems that His gifts are urgently needed…" With that, she turned around and left the conference room, followed by her cultic attendants.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Little Tokyo Business Hub. The Tri-Chrysanthemum Twin Tower.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1627.**

Blossom had led Bubbles and Buttercup flying headlong towards the office said to belong to Townsville's very own infamous Yakuza organization. They'd smashed right through the ceiling-high windows, shattering glass, sending shrapnel flying in all directions.

Bossman had pointed out the Yakuza as one of the worst gangs in Townsville, responsible for blackmailing numerous businesses and people, earning huge profits from vices such as gambling and prostitution, usually of the illegal sort, assassinations and, yes, drug trafficking, including the trafficking of various kinds of His Secret. The legitimate businesses they owned were frequently leveraged as criminal fronts to hide their activities.

All hell broke loose the moment they got in. The Yakuza were far more alert than the Exposito crime family. As office workers scrambled to get away, some of whom were wounded by the glass shrapnel, Yakuza enforcers were coming forward to empty their pistols at them, shouting in Japanese.

"Protect the Kumicho!" Bubbles heard one of them bellowing. Taking cover behind a desk, she hovered up and fired her ion beam at several of them, sweeping the bright blue emanation across the office, causing men to scream and sizzle, and electronics to pop whenever they were hit, but the men she'd hit had only been incapacitated - with her ocular energy discharge, it was hard to kill, nor did she want to. Despite this shocking display of her power, a terrifying spectacle to behold, Yakuza enforcers were still charging her, pistols blazing, and when those ran out of ammo, they pulled their wakizashis out.

Feeling a little tired, Bubbles switched to firing with her stockless XM4 Carbine, but she was aiming at their legs, sending men who were caught out in the open tumbling to the floor, writhing, howling and moaning.

Blossom and Buttercup were less concerned with using lethal force, however. Blossom's thermal beam had joined Bubbles' ion beam, but it was searing at men, burning through them. Buttercup was cutting them up with her laser eye beam, if not severing arms and legs, or parts of the limbs, then lobbing heads off. Most of the vengeful sisters' attacks had killed, and Bubbles had seen it all. She couldn't recognize the look on Blossom's face.

And if this all wasn't enough, Buttercup unclipped a high explosive grenade, a gift from Bossman himself, primed it and threw it. As if propelled by a grenade launcher, the grenade killed a Yakuza on impact, and exploded, engulfing several of his associates in the fire, and rocking the floor to its foundations.

"Defend our oyabuns! Kill them all!" Bubbles heard one of the more senior Yakuzas ordering the men around him, despite the horrific casualties and mutilations Blossom and Buttercup had inflicted upon them.

"Bubbles, Buttercup, let's go!" Blossom herself ordered, before jumping out of cover. Feeling merciful, she'd burned an enforcer in the legs instead. Buttercup, however, was far less discriminate. She'd mowed down a group of Yakuzas brandishing swords, shotguns, and pistols with her Stoner light machinegun instead. Bubbles, despite the horror of it all, did not stop firing, whether it was through her eyes or the barrel of her gun, because she knew that she was more merciful - the only merciful being in the Yakuza office, in fact - and a man injured by her wouldn't be a man cut in half by Buttercup or singed to death by Blossom.

They were able to fight their way through with ease. Although the ruthless Japanese killers would hurl themselves at them with no thoughts of self-preservation, inflicting pain with bullets and blades, they were merely speed bumps hindering them from their goals - as Bossman said, killing the leaders of the evil organization will put an end to their foul deeds.

Before Bubbles knew it, they were crashing through the doors leading into the conference room, where the Yakuza high-rankers were. The moment they did, men came at them fiercely with swords and guns and screams - Bubbles was sure they were more afraid than brave.

That was when Bubbles saw it - flashes of… something. Strange colors were coming off some of the blades the Yakuzas were using, brighter than ever before.

Tired from blasting at the bad guys with her Infrared beam, and with her guns out, Blossom seized the closest man by the blade of his katana and gave it a twist, yanking the sword out of his grasp before giving him a punch in the face, sending him flying backwards into his associates, who had to push him aside and continue charging at her. Buttercup followed suit, not because she was out of bullets - and she'd rather kill herself than admit that she was feeling tired - but because she wanted to feel flesh while she pounded on the bad guys.

One of the blades that was shining oddly, of different colors at any one time, was coming really close, and the wielder, some Yakuza underboss with graying hair, was swinging it - and, occupied with twisting the elbow of another underboss, Blossom wasn't aware.

"Look out!" Bubbles shouted, but it was too late - Blossom was struck. It'd all happened in an instant - it was amazing how even normal human beings could be so fast and so strong. There was a spray of blood from Blossom's shoulder before the leader of The Three could reach up for it. "Blossom!"

"They're using those funny-looking metals!" Bubbles warned her other sister.

"I'll show them funny!" Buttercup growled while she was striking down one of the Yakuzas with an overhead drop-kick. Behind her latest victim was another, one who Buttercup could just barely make out was carrying the same kind of sword dangerous to them. Despite feeling tired, she unleashed another burst of laser beam, cutting through the body of the second Yakuza, but not before he was able to get a slash in, cutting through Buttercup's vest and making an ugly, bloody gash down her chest. She screamed as she fell to the floor.

Bubbles had wanted to tend to her sisters' wounds, but there were still numerous Yakuza leaders in the room, so she flew in the thick of it, shielding Blossom, who was the most severely wounded. After launching a rapid flurry of paralyzing punches, Bubbles elbowed one out of the way, and his face was smashed into the wall. Another replaced him, this time while bringing down another Duranium sword on her. All Bubbles could do was block it with her arms, but just when she thought she knew for sure that she was going to lose them, a bright blue energy bubble blocked the blade - the Yakuza's arms were too weak to force it through. It'd sent the man recoiling backward instead.

Taking a peep at Blossom behind her, Bubbles saw that she was leaning against the wall, her strength sapped by the injury she suffered. She thought she could see her wound. It wasn't just the skin that had split. The flesh, too, was rent in two.

Gritting her teeth, Bubbles let out a high-pitched scream before charging into another group of Yakuzas in front of her. It helped that there was only one more criminal with a Duranium blade left, and he was nowhere close to her, nor Buttercup either.

"No one hurts my sister!" Kneeing one in the stomach, Bubbles could hear bone snapping when she did. She punched another in the face next, and the ill-fated man's normal steel katana had done nothing to her except stoke her anger with pain. She was too fast for the third man in her last group, who sustained a kick to the side of his face, fissures breaking out in his skull from the sheer force, loud enough for everyone - or at least whoever was left - in the room to hear.

The last Yakuza to defend his Kumicho had backed away just in time to avoid Bubbles' second kick, and as Bubbles stared him down, he backed away some more, clearly intimidated by the number of bodies in the room that used to be his associates. His shaking sword and arms had given his terror away. Buttercup, in the meantime, had finished off the last Yakuzas on her side too, making it worse for the lone, remaining underboss, as it meant that the only person on his side left was the head of the entire Yakuza organization and clans in Townsville - and he wouldn't be budging until he was alone.

But, pushed by his loyalty to his oyabun, the last underboss lunged forward, sword swinging overhead - only for the blade to be seized by Bubbles, who then swiped at him with a screech, her fingernails cutting his face, causing blood to spurt in great amounts. A bloodcurdling scream escaped his lips before he crumpled to the floor to join his fellow fallen Yakuzas, his sword still clutched in Bubbles' hand.

Blossom, having recovered somewhat from her wound, flew to the edge of the conference table and stood there before the Yakuza boss, still clutching her shoulder.

"We win, Mister Yamo- Yamae-" Blossom struggled to pronounce the Yakuza Kumicho's name.

"It's Yamamoto, you insolent child," the crime boss corrected the leader of the Powerpuff Girls in heavily accented English. He was still clutching the sword the woman in red had given him tightly. It was sheathed, but all three of the Powerpuff Girls knew that it was still dangerous.

"Put down your sword, Mister Yamamoto, and I won't hurt you," Blossom offered the Yakuza. Bubbles had been speaking to her for days now, about how she had changed and how she should still be merciful and kind even to the bad guys - as Dad would tell them to be. She knew how it was like to hide certain facts from Dad and Mom, and she made sure to mention that to Blossom as well, telling her that it was something she should avoid. It simply didn't feel good and wouldn't end well.

"And dishonor my clan? Never!" Mister Yamamoto snarled stubbornly. "If you have any shred of honor at all, you will tell me who ordered this! I should have known about this long before it happened!"

"Don Ricci told me about you," Blossom explained, thinking that perhaps something coming from the Yakuza clan leader's mouth might persuade her to let the man live. "You're a bad man, Mister Yamamoto. You've hurt a lot of people, stolen their things and force them to do stuff. You're a big bully." To be fair, Blossom still couldn't understand what half the things Bossman told her were about. Credit card fraud? What was that even? And what on earth was match-fixing? And prostitution? Or pornography? What Blossom knew, however, was that the Kumicho Yamamoto was also a cold-hearted killer and torturer.

"So, he's finally done it," Bubbles heard the Yakuza boss say in Japanese. There was no surprise in his tone at all. Just resignation.

"I don't understand," Blossom said.

"He said 'he's finally done it'," Bubbles repeated what the boss had said, wondering why Blossom couldn't understand. But Blossom didn't care to understand the criminal.

"Put down the sword, Mister Yamamoto," Blossom repeated her demand again. The man, however, wasn't listening. With his eyes affixed to the floor in a death glare, he gritted her teeth as he held his sword tightly, shivering with fury.

"NEVER!" he shouted, before sprinting towards Blossom, removing the sword from the scabbard and slicing at her with one fluid motion. Blossom flew forward with a punch ready. It had all caught Bubbles and Buttercup off-guard.

The two leaders clashed, then crossed each other. Bubbles saw Blossom's punch connect. The Yakuza's blade had slid across Blossom's neck but… Did he miss?

The singular exchange of blows was over very soon after it started, and it'd ended with Mister Yamamoto convulsing on the ground, having collapsed chest-first, his sword clattering a distance away.

His neck was broken, and his head was hanging loosely on exposed windpipe and gullet in an awkward position, having been punched with such force that the skin in his neck was torn open and the muscles separated. Blood was pooling beneath his neck. He didn't have long to live.

Blossom's hand went up to her neck, feeling something there.

"Blossom? Are you okay?" Bubbles asked, afraid for her sister. Blossom, however, did not reply. She simply turned to look at her… with blood spurting out of her neck, on free-flow and gushing between her fingers. There was a cascade of blood down her neck as well, sprinting down as if in a mad rush to claim her uniform, vest and body as their territory. "Blossom!"

The leader of the Three fell, but Bubbles was able to hold her just in time.

"Y-You're-" the Yakuza patriarch somehow managed to say, despite barely having a neck left. "You're not justice- not goddess- b-bleed like… the rest of…"

And then he was silent.


	74. Chapter 68: Rabbit Stew

**Chapter 68: Rabbit Stew**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1706.**

"B- -som?" a voice, unclear, muttered. "-lo -m?"

Blossom squinted at the shape above her. Everything was a hotchpotch. Blurry. She couldn't even tell who it was above her, only that it was bright above. Or was that an illusion as well? She wasn't even squinting - as in actively. She was just looking. Her entire body felt like a block of ice, numb and almost impossible to move. A second silhouette hovered over her, a smaller one.

"Blos-" it said. Blossom could just about make out the fact that it was higher-pitched. " -all -fault. I- sorry, -som! Plea- don't- d-!"

And before she knew it, everything went dark.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**27 FEB (Monday) 1989. 1933.**

"Blossom…" a voice sung out to her, menacing and ominous. She couldn't even tell if it was a male or female voice. "Blooossom…"

Blossom opened her eyes, and found herself in a green field, under a gigantic moon surrounded by the night sky. She was lying down on a picnic blanket. Sitting up, her eyes met that of the man of her dreams. He was tall and well-built as always, and she saw him pick up a glass of… black stuff gracefully, almost like a lady, and, pushing it up to his face, started sipping it. She remembered his goatee, how prominent it was.

"It's you…" she uttered. It had been some time since she last saw him. Had it been two weeks? Her mind was still a bowl of scrambled eggs after what had happened with the Yakuza.

"Oh, hello back to you…" the man greeted her. Memories were flooding back into Blossom's mind. She remembered how their last meeting went. How wrong he was to suggest that she should kill her sisters to prevent them from hurting anyone else. The man of her dreamed picked up a plate of… something, offering it up to her. "Chicken sandwich?"

Blossom looked down at it. It was certainly not a chicken sandwich. It was a dark mass, swarming with even darker… ants of some kind. Blossom grimaced in disgust at it.

"You know, you've been doing the right thing… Yes… Yes…" he said as he lowered the plate of black, slimy refuse.

"I have?" Blossom said, confused. She didn't even know what he was referring to.

"Yes - killing all those bad guys. Your Daddy would be proud," the man of her dreams went on.

"But… he wouldn't be," Blossom countered. "That's why I haven't told him."

"Well, he SHOULD BE!" the man exploded, causing Blossom to jump, before giving her a sly smile and continuing: "After all, you are ridding the world of bad people… That's commendable in my book."

Blossom fell silent, before starting up again. "What do you want?"

"Why, I want what's best for you… Most definitely…" the man of her dreams said. "If only you wouldn't ignore my warnings about your sisters… But what's done is done. We can work with that…"

Blossom's eyes fluttered open, and before she was aware, she took a deep breath. There was still a light above her, though it wasn't as glaring as before. Another difference was that there were no silhouettes looming above her, just when she could see clearly again.

Her body was still a block of ice, heavy as if she had no Chemical X in her blood. Still, she tried to sit up, and barely succeeded, only to feel light-headed. Her neck still stung as if it had just been slashed in the jugular. Reaching up to it, she felt thick bandages. Her neck would be stiff with or without them.

Her uniform and gear were gone. Replaced by a little patient's gown.

"Blossom! You're awake!" Blossom heard someone say. Without looking at her, she knew it was Bubbles from the voice. She didn't dare move her neck, but she didn't have to as Bubbles had zipped up to her side, holding her.

"W-what happened?" Blossom asked, still dazed.

What happened. Bubbles' mind went all the way back to that second when she thought she'd lost Blossom for sure. Blossom had turned around to look at her, seemingly shocked, when she saw the blood spurting from her neck, through the spaces between her fingers. The amount of blood was shocking, painting her pink uniform red in just moments.

That was when she fell, and Bubbles caught her and laid her down on the conference table. Blossom was convulsing as soon as she hit the table, but Bubbles didn't have time to be afraid. Buttercup had to hold her down while she bandaged the slash wound. The bandage was soaked in an instant. It was chaos; Blossom was hyperventilating, Buttercup was panicking, surprisingly, and together, they carried Blossom on their shoulders and ditched the Tri-Chrysanthemum Twin Towers for home, piercing the air at full speed.

The entire journey home was tense. Frantic. Unbearable, except they had to suffer it to get Blossom home. Both Bubbles and Buttercup, the latter perhaps influenced by the silver lining in her brain, were panicking all the way to Dad. By the time they got Blossom home, she was gasping for air, her breathing worryingly slow, her body ice cold.

But she was saved.

Bubbles would find out later from dear old Dad that Blossom had lost three-quarters of her blood, something that would have killed a normal human being ten times over. However, she also found out the good news: a normal person's bone marrow was already a wonder on its own, being able to refill lost volumes of blood within a day or two, and the cells within the space of weeks. The three of them, with their enhanced bone marrow, could replace whatever blood they had lost within hours, including the cells. Their Dad knew about this from last December, when Mojo Jojo (allegedly) had nearly succeeded in assassinating Bubbles with a Duranium sniper rifle, only for her to pull through. Meanwhile, the wound in her neck was already sealed, the tissue repairing rapidly.

In the meantime, however, it was dinner time, and Bubbles had to help Blossom into a kiddie wheelchair and into an elevator built over January to get her to the dining table.

Chewing and swallowing were painful to Blossom, but she had far more motivation to eat as losing most of her blood had made her ravenous. Dinner was mostly eaten in silence. Professor Utonium was feeding her, and Blossom was glad to have some of his attention, finally.

"Bubbles, how did you know what the bad guy was saying?" Blossom asked, trying to fill In the silence with a conversation, no matter how arbitrary the topic was. The day was bad enough; she wanted a semblance of normalcy in the house to make it better.

"I don't understand, Bloss. He was loud enough…" Bubbles said, confused by Blossom's question.

"But he was using words I've never heard of," Blossom struggled to speak. She thought she had stumbled on something interesting, to take her mind off her neck, her dream, the Yakuza, and the Amoeba Boys - she was still unsure of what to think about them.

Bubbles, after looking confused for a while, began giggling.

"What's so funny?" Buttercup asked, herself sucked into the conversation. She wasn't deaf to the conversation they had with the Yakuza clan head.

"Aw, you're so sweet, Blossy," Bubbles said, but she was a puzzle to Blossom, still, and the rest of her family.

"What… do you mean?" Blossom asked, wincing at the sharp pain that rose and fell in her neck.

"You're calling me smart, aren't you?" Bubbles said, practically blushing. "You know words better than me, Blossom, and now you're saying I know words you don't…"

"But… I don't think he was even speaking English," Blossom said. The professor seemed to light up at this, where previously, he appeared depressed, close to the point of being dysfunctional.

"Blossom, do you know what language this… bad guy was speaking?" the professor asked. Selicia was beside him as well, and even she knew that it was important - if it was enough to get her lover out of the rut, it was indeed something.

"I don't know," Blossom admitted.

"Well, what does it sound like?" the professor asked, his voice and question gentle. He had just put another spoonful of porridge into Blossom's mouth, so he waited patiently for her to chew weakly and swallow her food hesitantly.

"His name's Yamamoto…" Blossom said, thinking back to the battle at the Yakuza's sky office headquarters. She remembered killing a good number of them, burning them with such intensity that the heat had cut through them, or cooked them to a crisp. But she'd spared some of them too. Killing had always felt wrong, and Bubbles had made every attempt to pull her back. Now, it'd left a bad taste in her mouth. Her eyes were wet when she thought back to the battle, what she'd done. She took a deep breath. It'd always helped. But talking helped more: "He and his friends look different. Their skin's colored differently, maybe a little like Buttercup's, but darker. They all had black hair too, like Buttercup."

"Hey! I'm not like them!" Buttercup exclaimed, offended by Blossom's comparison. "I'm the good girl, and they're the bad guys! I'm better than them!"

"But you do look a little like them," Bubbles backed Blossom, squinting at Buttercup. It wasn't something she'd noticed before, in the heat of battle. She didn't have the words for it, but Buttercup did indeed look like the Yakuza in terms of physical appearance. Asian. Or to be precise, Japanese. But not completely. It took a direct comparison and some studying to recognize it.

None of the Girls knew this, but Buttercup's DNA had some Japanese ancestry in it. Only two persons in the room knew it - Professor Utonium and Sergeant Selicia Goodwin, and the former knew it most intimately. He'd nearly gagged on his piece of chicken steak when Bubbles actually came close to figuring out, indirectly, the fact that Buttercup's DNA wasn't derived from his and Selicia's, which would have meant finding out, eventually, that they weren't his biological daughters.

"Ah, he was speaking in Japanese, of course!" the professor exclaimed, caught up in his favorite activity for once in the past couple of days - distracted from his misery. Anything but the uncertainty of Bunny's suffering and The Three discovering that they weren't even related to him.

"What's Japanese?" Bubbles asked, confused. Mister Yamamoto hadn't been talking in Japanese. He was clearly talking in English!

"It's a language that came from Japan, just like how English, our language, came from England," the professor explained.

"Duh, who wouldn't know?" Buttercup scoffed at the exchange. Bubbles threw her a disapproving stare. The both of them knew what the former meant.

"But… if he's speaking in Japanese, why could I understand him?" Bubbles asked, confused. "And Blossom couldn't?"

"You know, Bubbles, I think I should bring you down to the labs later for a brief experiment," the professor said, completely caught up with this new discovery. However, this excitement and joy of discovery and family bonding wouldn't last.

It wouldn't last… for as long as Bunny was missing.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 0451.**

"Bunny, you've hardly touched your food," Putting down his fork, General Blackwater said to his newest student. The two of them were alone in the cafeteria, guarded by eight soldiers forming a perimeter around the hall. Bunny had been playing with her food. Although made as scrumptious as possible, it didn't entice her enough to gobble it up. "We don't have much time before training starts again."

"I miss Dad… and Mom," Bunny said, close to tears as she was prone to be. Her wounds had healed completely in her sleep, much to Doctor Simmons' astonishment as it had healed at a rate faster than even Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's, but there was still pain elsewhere. In her heart. "I miss Blossom. And Bubbles. And Buttercup."

"Is this what you will do in the field? Curl up and cry for mommy and daddy while the enemy is moving against you?" the general had picked up his fork while Bunny spoke, only to slam it down onto the table again, making Bunny jump. "You need to learn how to bury your emotions. And the time, Bunny! I swear to God if you hesitate one more second-!"

That had pushed Bunny over the edge. Soon, she was watering her bacon and eggs and bread with her tears. The general sighed. Time was still on the move against them as if an invisible, omnipresent enemy.

"Would it help if I say that you'll see them again tomorrow?" the general growled a little more gently, though that wasn't saying much with him. Bunny did not acknowledge him but just continued crying anyway.

"You know…" the general went on. There was a better way of doing this, he knew. In fact, he thought he'd fouled up considering his lack of subtlety and nurturing. After all, there was something between him and Bunny. "When I was fighting the Germans back in the 40s, I was just like you. My brothers were still back home, yet to be deployed, and my pop and ma were still at the farm then. I was young, and I missed my family terribly. I… cried, while all my friends weren't looking. In the bunks or on watch."

It took Bunny some time to understand the general as she was still crying. Sniffling, she tried her best to stop. But it was like trying to dam a river at short notice, or building a dome over a park when it was already storming.

"Y-you did?" Bunny managed, wiping tears away with the back of her hand.

"Yeah. And I was away for months before I was allowed a furlough to see them," the general recalled.

"But- months?" Bunny said in disbelief. It was easier now to keep a lid on her emotions as her curiosity was piqued by the general's unlikely story. "How could you take months without daddy and mommy? Isn't that really lonely?"

"I wasn't really alone. I had friends, just like you," the general said, flashing a rather flat smile at her. Bunny smiled back. He was right, she knew. She'd met Doctor Simmons, and Mister Wiggums (with whom she decided she should apologize to later), and Mister Vanum, along with some soldiers and her instructors. They were all nice to her. "And I tell myself: 'Look alive, soldier. Fight well, fight hard, and you'll live long enough to see them again.' I tell that to myself every morning, before every battle. I kept doing that, until..."

"You get to see them again?" Bunny completed his sentence for him.

"Yes," the general concurred. Bunny seemed cured of her sadness at first, but then she became downcast again, threatening another outbreak of the tears.

"Am I going to go away for months?" she asked. The general stared at her for a while, wondering what he should say, and what he should do in the future. "Am I?" she asked again. Before answering, the general thought about it and thought hard.

"No. No, you're not going to," he finally said. Bunny looked up at him with the biggest smile on her face, tears breaking out anyway, but this time, they were tears of joy. "Most of the missions you'll be sent to won't even last a day. There might be some that might last a few days - maybe - but-"

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" Bunny interrupted the general to profess her gratitude. She'd gone around the table within an instant such that the general barked in shock, and before he knew it, she was hugging him tightly, such that he actually believed that she might break a few of his ribs.

But even if she did, it would have been worth it for the progress they had made.

* * *

**Training Segment: Day 3 Revision**

Time: 0500-0730

Description: This training segment is dedicated as a refresher on what B-50 has learned on Day 1, and a test of how much she has retained from Day 2's training.

Results: Day 1 training content intact. Test on Day 2 training content yields a nearly 100% proficiency rate.

Training Segment: Urban Warfare

Time: 0800-1100

Description: B-50 is to be put through a series of common urban warfare scenarios, including performing CQC in a street setting, room-by-room or in larger, more exposed building configurations. The training segment is conducted as a simulated mission. The subject is transported to a secure US Army training facility for the duration of the simulation for the purpose of secrecy.

Results: Building off on what she had learned, B-50 has exceeded expectations. She was able to utilize her motorcycle piloting skills to enter the fire zone quickly, before dispatching a group of mock terrorists via lethal shots to the brain or heart. Her approach to breaching rooms is unorthodox, and no doubt inspired by her stealth training. Her small size gives her options that wouldn't have occurred to a regular soldier. Even with her heavy armor, she was able to travel through ventilation shafts with ease and holes in the walls without difficulty, making her attack vector unpredictable. Less stealthy approaches were encouraged as well, and she has, again, exceeded expectations. She was able to punch through solid walls to get at her targets, and even tear off vault doors to take down targets hiding in bunkers and panic rooms. While it has resulted in an increased budget for us as we will need to pay the army for the damaged facilities, the result is worth it.

**Training Segment: Winter Warfare**

Time: 1130-1430

Description: While the lesson is titled as 'winter warfare', the lesson plan includes elements found normally in jungle and forest warfare training doctrine. The lesson will teach B-50 the importance of camouflage and how to maintain it, as well as finding cover in a natural setting. This will be taught through a simulated mission.

Results: B-50 has exceeded expectations, and her morale is high while doing so. She appears to enjoy the outdoors, perhaps because this is the first time doing it. After some failed attempts, she was able to build herself a viable ghillie suit to wear over her armor. She was able to assassinate a mock terrorist leader after avoiding detection by 30 mock terrorists. She was then able to proceed to eliminate the closest terrorist lieutenants, sowing confusion before dispatching the rest of the mock terrorists.

* * *

**Pokey Oaks County. Deep in Pokey Oaks Woodlands.**

**28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1441.**

"And then I shot them! Pow pow pow!" Bunny recounted her experience with taking down a terrorist cell from the inside out as if it were an amusement park ride. "They didn't even know I was there!"

"Are you proud of yourself, Bunny?" General Blackwater asked as he sat at a camp with her, listening. They were at break time, though it served as debriefing as well.

"Yes!" Bunny replied with a triumphant grin, all pumped up. "I'm going to protect my sisters, and I know how to do it!"

"Good," the general said with his own grin, slight as it might be. "There's just one thing though."

"What is it, Dad?" Bunny asked. The general stared at her as if she had killed someone. It was only then that she realized her mistake.

"Sorry, General Blackwater. It was a mistake," Bunny apologized.

"I hope that's the last time you make that mistake," the general warned the enhanced girl before continuing: "Now, we've been running simulations so far - meaning that all the missions you've been on are not real."

"They feel really real," Bunny said.

"Real terrorists shoot real bullets, which would have hurt for real. And when you put them down with real bullets, they don't come back up to crack open a can of soda when it's all over," the general explained. "Will you be able to kill if it were real, Bunny?"

"Yes…" Bunny claimed, though her face said otherwise. The general could read concern and uncertainty from it. Something that he would be fixing real soon.

"Did you bring Rabbit the rabbit here? As I've instructed?" the general asked, even though he knew fully well that Bunny wouldn't disobey him in such a trivial task, and neither would she have forgotten due to her photographic memory.

"Yes…" Bunny said, her face completely transparent, her confusion showing through.

"Show me," the general ordered. Together, they left the camp for her humvee. From the back of the vehicle, Bunny pulled out a gilded cage, which contained Rabbit the rabbit.

"Have you been feeding and watering it? Did you bathe it and brush its fur like I showed you?" the general asked.

"Yes, General Blackwater," Bunny replied in the affirmative proudly, holding up the cage for him to see.

"Do you love it? Do you see yourself taking care of it for years? Do you even want to?" the general asked even further. Bunny thought that it was a test - that if she answered it correctly, the general would be proud of her and she would be happy because of it, and because it would mean that she was somehow abler.

"Yes, General Blackwater. She's my friend and you gave it to me…" Bunny said, wondering if she had said the right things, though her sentiments were genuine. She imagined playing with Rabbit the rabbit with her sisters, petting it with Dad and even bringing it out for one of those 'picnics' she heard so much about. Oh, all the fun things they would do together! Already, it seemed as if they were destined to be owner and pet. Rabbit had never tried to hop away, and she seemed connected to her somehow, comforting her with her stares and nuzzling. Bunny, on the other hand, had been caring for her religiously, and not just because the general ordered her to.

"Is that so?" the general said while he opened the cage and took Rabbit the rabbit out. Cradling it in his hands, he stroked its fur a few times before continuing. "I'd like you to kill it."

Bunny's eyes went wide upon hearing the order.

"But- but- why?" Bunny cried, confused, but above all else, utterly upset. "You said I could keep it and I should take care of it and-"

"Are you afraid of really killing something now, Bunny?" the general interrupted.

"Not Rabbit, please!" Bunny begged. Soldiers were watching from a distance. Listening too. The look on their faces wasn't reassuring, but Bunny didn't need that hint to realize that General Blackwater never joked around.

"Please! You said that I could keep it for years and you asked if I'll take care of it for years and I said yes and-" Bunny went on, but the general overrode her:

"And what if I tell you that Rabbit is an enemy all along?" the general added.

"But…" Bunny looked at Rabbit, which returned her gaze as if it knew that its time was up.

"Kill it, Bunny," the general insisted, no, ordered. He handed Rabbit back to Bunny. The enhanced girl cradled the bundle of joy as if it was her baby. "Show me that you've learned something."

Bunny's eyes were filling up fast, wet from what she must do.

"Is this what you will do if you've been betrayed by a friend? Or even one of your sisters? Buttercup, for example?" the general snarled at her. "You're going to just stand there and take it? If this were out there, you would be dead by now! Kill it, Bunny!"

"No!" Bunny hugged Rabbit the rabbit tightly.

"She's the enemy, Bunny! Rabbit will kill you if you don't kill her!" the general barked aggressively. Bunny's hands had found their way to Rabbit's neck at the same time. "Kill it! Destroy it! Show me your loyalty! That you're ready to defend your family! Do it! Do it now!"

Bunny's hands tightened around Rabbit's neck, and the animal did not even resist, as if having accepted its fate a long time ago.

"Or are you the enemy, Bunny? Will you betray me and your family over a rabbit?" the general insinuated. Bunny, shocked by the general's words and possible rejection, afraid that her world would come crashing down around her if she did not kill, finally squeezed her fists.

Something gave, and the bundle of joy in Bunny's arms stopped wriggling about. What passed for resistance was a brief jerk from Rabbit, before that, too, stopped. Bunny wept; first, Mom had left, and now Rabbit too.

"Repeat after me, Bunny," the general growled at her, grabbing her by the solid collar of her armor. Bunny gazed up at him, whatever resistance she'd put up after her Interrogation Resistance training gone, replaced by submission. "Obedience brings victory. Say it!"

"Obedience-" Bunny whimpered and sniffled. "Obedience brings victory."

"Good," the general praised, though it felt empty to Bunny. To her, disaster had been averted, but at what cost? The general took the carcass of Rabbit off Bunny's arms. She was reluctant to give it away at first, but she knew she had to obey. "It brings a good meal too, apparently. Follow me and I'll show you how to prepare a good bowl of rabbit stew. Just in time for survival training."


	75. Chapter 69: Interrogation

A/N: (8 FEB 2020) Amended mistake with the dates, which should be in February, not December.

**Chapter 69: Interrogation**

**B-49 W15 Experimental Report**

**DOC: 27 FEB (Monday) 1989.**

**Created By: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Further Development in B-49**

B-49 (Bubbles) has just developed an amazing new ability. However, it is uncertain if she has this ability all along, or if it is newly acquired. There is no way to pinpoint and verify the exact date of its occurrence or if it even 'occurred' at all - she might even be created with it.

However, what is verifiable is the use of this new ability. In short, Bubbles has somehow acquired the ability to mentally translate foreign languages into English, in real-time. What is even more amazing is her ability to speak languages other than English after translation. This, however, has a limit.

On discovery of Bubbles' new ability, I was able to devise a quick and cheap experiment to examine Bubbles' abilities and to test its limits. The basic test involves me speaking languages foreign to Bubbles' cultural upbringing. Due to my basic understanding of languages other than English, I have decided on English as a control, followed by simple French, German and Latin.

Full documentation of the experimental set-up and results is appended to the end of this report. To summarize it here, she is able to understand words spoken in French, German and Latin and translate them back to me. Armed with dictionaries of my chosen languages, I began testing her on some of the more uncommon words - and the result is still positive. The control results are particularly interesting. Despite her newly-formed ability, she is unable to understand English words she has not learned yet and needs to be taught in that case. Otherwise, she appears to understand whatever language I throw at her. However, what came next was unexpected: she was able to speak the language as well.

With the discovery of this part of her new ability, I expanded the scope of the experiment. I began conversing with Bubbles in French, German and Latin. The results are positive. However, it is at this point that I noticed a pattern in her translated speech. She appears to be using very simple words, sometimes to the point of butchering the language.

It is not until much later that I realized that Bubbles was using words that I would have known, and no words that I have no idea about. The few that I have trouble deciphering are words that are what I remember learning and using but have forgotten until recently when I had to look them up on the dictionary to understand Bubbles. In short - her ability to understand, translate and speak languages she does not know is limited to the person speaking to her.

This leads me to my theory on Bubbles' translation ability. She might have gained a low-key passive telepathic ability that draws on a target's thoughts and knowledge, activated in times of stress from an inability to understand the target's speech. There must be a minimum level to this stress as this does not work on English words she simply has not learned yet. However, this is, at this point, an educated guess.

I continued the experiment after that with a modification to the set-up. The experiment is repeated in an MRI and PET scanner to determine what is going on with her neurologically. As expected, the appropriate centers of control related to language show increased activities. This includes the Broca's Area, the Insular Cortex and the Angular Gyrus. Memory forming areas such as the Prefrontal Cortex shows a selective increase in activity, present especially when the words given has an English analog.

How Chemical X is involved in this, and the mechanisms of this is currently unknown, pending investigation.

Addendum 1: Videos were taken during the experiments. I have examined the videos for both scientific and personal reasons, only to discover that there appears to be slight distortion in the air above our heads while the experiment is being conducted. This brings back memories of previous Project Powerpuff subjects with telepathic abilities, though the distortions with those past subjects are more visible. It is possible that Chemical X is released into the air to be used to form a connection between Bubbles and whoever she is translating. It is likely due to the fact that her translation ability is very subtle and low-key, utilizing very little Chemical X in the process. For comparison, subject B-46 (Blisstina), would erupt in purple lightning and light up her pale hair whenever she utilizes her telepathic or telekinetic abilities (or other psionic abilities).

Addendum 2: I've interviewed Bubbles about her ability, and got her to talk about her new translation ability. I suspected that she might have developed them at an earlier date and I was right. Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup and I had sat together to talk about Stanley Talker, the talking dog before, and in our conversation, Blossom and Buttercup remarked that he was hard to understand but Bubbles, on the contrary, believed that he was easy to understand. This might have been due to her translation ability kicking in at such a low level that no one noticed - Stanley Talker was speaking in English, albeit a version of it that is more conducive to a dog's facial and oral configuration. In other words, different enough that it required a small degree of translation.

But there is something much more amazing than this. Bubbles' experience goes further back than Stanley Talker's entry into their life, all the way to the beginning, and it is something that I and a few others can second.

Bubbles is able to speak to animals. More experiments will be planned and executed.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Townsville Police Department Headquarters.**

**28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1445.**

I was marching through the corridors leading up to the chief. The floor was dirty brown and ancient, and it had been collecting cigarette ash and spilled beer and blood for decades. Washed weekly, the stain could never be fully removed - or our perception and memory of it. But it was somehow different for the past couple of months. Someone had rolled out the red carpet, not physically, but it was there. It was a consequence of my higher profile, but the red carpet wasn't just a welcome mat.

In the City of Townsville, nothing is ever so simple. A cigarette or a bottle of beer passed between acquaintances could pass for a lot of things. Words coming through the mouth of a Townsvillian would gain a few extra definitions along the way. A red carpet wasn't necessarily a welcome mat. Stakes could be hidden underneath, a trap waiting to be sprung. Lives were at stake.

People stared as I came through with Detectives Olivia, Wednesday and Patrol-dog Stanley Talker at my back. The people who stared were all wearing uniforms or badges. They weren't all my co-workers, hadn't been for decades. I ignored the snide comments and expletives hurled my way. I hoped to God that my daughter could ignore the veiled rape threats and Stanley, the 'hotdog' threats. The two-faces were losing some side money from the work I'd been putting in out on the streets. But one type of comment stuck out the most. If words could still break my bones, these would be the words:

"Where're your Powerpuff bitches now, Mullens?" one of the blue-scaled snakes had said. I didn't see who it was, but I knew who it was. I recognized the voice. He was one of those who'd be stuffed into a tiny, dark hole once all this was over. Except for the goal post had been moved way out of the stadium.

I didn't bother knocking. I'd just barged straight through the chief's office while my entourage waited outside.

"What the hell's goin' on, chief?" I said to the man. To ask me to hold back on the teetering cauldron of boiling vitriol would be asking too much - and I knew the chief was asking without words - but I held it back (barely) anyway.

"What are you talking about, lieutenant?" the chief asked. I knew he was acting dumb. He was too smart to be in the dark.

"You've been keeping the Powerpuff Girls away from me," I unloaded the bullets. I didn't feel like playing the game, not when I was this close to slaying the dragon, not when I could taste it, smell it in the air - the validation of decades of rot and stagnant water for some kind of closure.

"That's one hell of an accusation, Mullens," the chief said, pinching a pencil with both his hands before him.

"You knew how important they were to me - to my operations," I was spitting more out. I didn't just have an old revolver in my hands, and I'd been collecting the bullets for a long time. The Powerpuff Girls had always been available to me and my task force. A few days ago, when they were nowhere to be seen and elsewhere, serving some other, likely lesser, purpose, I'd put it down to high demand of service. But then they were ghost for a second operation I needed them for, and then a third. All three planned operations were canceled, replaced by kid-sized alternatives that wouldn't have helped. Three times the charm. That was when I knew something was up.

"Mullens, come on," the chief said in that condescending tone, standing up and putting his mitt on my shoulder, gesturing for me to sit down. I shrugged it off and told him that I preferred standing. It was good for the heart. The chief sat back down, unafraid of the shadow I cast on him.

"I'm just a police chief, one out of many. And I'm sure you know that mine isn't exactly the highest position, right?" he continued to play dumb. If he was a salesman, he'd be broke by now. Except he wasn't - probably because of the side businesses he'd been running. "There are dozens of us in this city, and when the commissioner or the DA and their deputies ask us to jump, we ask, 'how high'. You get it, right?"

The cauldron's gotta spill sooner or later. I slammed my fists on the table. But he was a mountain, used to my method of anger management since a long time ago. How I wished for those moments a long time ago to return - I could move mountains then in my youth. But now, it was somebody else's turn. Perhaps Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's.

"Just once! Just for fucking once!" I roared at him, let him know how much I resented the law I was enforcing - because it was preventing me from killing him. "What I'm doing could end this - all of this! You could have fought harder for me but I know you didn't!"

"Now that - I resent that," the chief said while he had pinched a cigarette out of its box. He jabbed his fingers, with that cigarette between them, at me. "I've been fighting for your use of the Powerpuff Girls for weeks! Months! How 'bout a little appreciation!?"

"And now they're just magically under some other chief's control? Just when things are picking up steam?" I shot at him again. I knew how the game was played. You don't show your hands until the very end. How I fell for it despite being an old bird, I had no clue. "Who is it, chief?"

"You need to learn to relax, Mullens," the chief condescended, avoiding my magic question. "It's good for your health. Take it easy - go with the flow. You've been watching the news, right? The Powerpuff Girls… they're still doing good, aren't they? Kicking more ass than ever, I'd even say."

"I would hardly call shutting down one small gang at a time 'kicking more ass than ever'," I said. I knew I was just beating away the chaff. There was more to it than that. 'Duty' wasn't exactly a common word in Townsville.

"Now you look here!" the chief shouted again. It was still just as manufactured as his cigarettes. "As much as you'd like to think you are, you're not the center of the universe! No, you're a dime in the dozen, no matter what the newspapers and mouths on the street say! Your plan isn't the only one, Mullens! Those damn super-powered kids don't belong to you! You've had your chance to use them, and now it's someone else's turn to shine! Fuck, they just busted the fuckin' Yakuza right in the head, you know that? How's that for important?"

I didn't think much of the Yakuza bust. I had run out of trust a long time ago, along with many other things. It wasn't the first time a local weed was pulled, and it wouldn't be the last. The weeds would grow if not one species then another. Sometimes, the police were just hands, pulling them out to make way for another.

"I want them tomorrow, you hear me? Don't make me climb the ladder," I didn't stick around to argue. I wasn't in the debate team back in high school, hadn't had the patience for it since. I don't talk the talk. I wanted to walk, and fast. Get to the finish line before anyone else.

"That's a tall order," the chief said, resigned. Good.

"Then make it a full glass of cocktail with an umbrella and slice of lemon on top," I sassed him before putting on my hat and turning around, letting him appraise the back of my trousers.

He didn't say anything more as I took my leave. Good.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1521.**

As Bunny sat in General Blackwater's office, her mind couldn't help but wander back to the wintry forest out there, back in time, back to that specific time. General Blackwater had chopped Rabbit's carcass into two right in front of her, the intestines and blood spilling onto the snow, red and stark, while she watched. The general made her watch, saying that she needed to toughen up. He then gave her the front portion and then demonstrated with the back portion how to skin a rabbit.

Bunny didn't want to. It felt wrong. But she did it anyway because OBEDIENCE BRINGS VICTORY. Because it'd satisfy the general, make him happy. They would then cook the rabbit in a pot of boiling water, with additives to make a stew.

When the rabbit stew was ready, General Blackwater made her eat it, no matter how many tears she had shed, no matter how many times she begged not to. It didn't help that she was hungry, and the rabbit stew smelled so great. She began chewing faster, swallowing quicker, until she had devoured the rabbit stew made from her friend.

It felt worse than cannibalism - something which General Blackwater actually talked about after that - that if she had no other choice, she would have to consume the corpse of a person to survive. With Bunny, General Blackwater reasoned that it would be slightly more acceptable since she wasn't exactly human in the normal sense.

"Bunny? Come here and I'll show you something," the general said to her some time after she was done thinking about the near past. Stiffly, she got off the chair opposite the general's and skirted around his desk. With no other chairs available, the general welcomed Bunny to sit on his lap, groaning under the weight of Bunny and her heavy armor.

When Bunny was settled in, the general opened a video file and played it. While Bunny was unfamiliar with the contents of the video, General Blackwater had already scanned through the file numerous times over the past two months. Had Bunny's elder sisters, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, been here, they would have recognized it too.

It was some security footage taken from inside the Townsville Central Bank, from over two months ago. It was the Powerpuff Girls' first mission (who were then named The Three), and it'd gone horribly wrong.

Bubbles was shot in the eye, shattering her combat ballistic goggles and knocking her out, forcing Blossom to pull her back on the retreat with Buttercup hesitating and attacking, only to be outnumbered and forced to run anyway. They were shot dozens of times on the way out, and Buttercup was even set on fire using a molotov cocktail.

Bunny could barely even look, and the general had to prod at her and order her to keep looking. She'd burst into tears in the middle of it.

"Do you understand now?" the general said, and Bunny nodded her head even though he didn't elaborate.

"Stop crying and listen. Your sisters are weak, and you need to protect them; fight crime and neutralize the enemy so this does not happen again. Do you understand?" the general explained, knowing that Bunny wasn't quite in the right state of mind to be asking questions. Bunny could barely hold it in even as she listened. She broke down again after that. Just the violence of it all being ruthlessly exacted upon her elder sisters was unnerving.

The general, however, wanted something more. This simply would not do. Taking her by the shoulders, he shook her up. "I said stop crying!" He threw her off his lap, and she landed hard on her back. "Stand up!"

Bunny did as she was told, brought out of her weeping by the pain and shock from the general's actions. She stood up immediately, like a soldier berated by a drill sergeant. The general got off his chair, pushing it back violently as he sprung to his feet.

"You want to be emotional, Bunny? Then be angry!" the general said to her. "Be furious! Mad! Those men hurt your sisters! Come on, give me your angry face! Think about it! The pain those men caused your dear sisters!"

Bunny needed several tries before she could get it right. She'd imagined getting shot a million times, and how it might have been for her sisters. She had been shot before, ironically by the general who used a Duranium XM90 Anti-Material Rifle. It wasn't something unknown to her.

"You know, we do have the same criminals who hurt your sisters in custody," the general tempted Bunny and the fact that she had taken the bait had shown through her transparent look, that look that told everyone that she wanted sweet vengeance. It was the first time she felt that way, and the feeling was ambrosial and natural to her. "Good, good. You're born to suffer, to feel your sisters' pain. For now, it's because of those men. But you're born to do something else, Bunny. I think it's time you make them feel your pain."

* * *

**Training Segment: Enhanced Interrogation**

**Time: 1530-1730**

Description: B-50 is to be taught the art of inflicting pain and fear for the purpose of compelling cooperation from an unwilling and previously uncooperative subject. Up to three real prisoners will be provided for the purpose of this segment, and B-50's goal will be to force them to confess to a number of crimes they did not commit and to reveal information about the crime scene they were found in that is already known and corroborated by evidence on the scene. The prisoners' survival is optional.

Results: In the course of the lesson, B-50 is able to apply her knowledge of where to target to inflict the most pain from her human anatomy lessons, and how to cause fear from her lessons in psychological warfare. Her experience of being tortured herself has helped, I believe, as there was some resemblance in her technique to mine when it comes to terrorizing the target while cutting him with a knife. She is incredibly successful in this regard. She was able to interrogate all provided subjects without killing them for the duration of the training segment. However, only 1 in 3 prisoners was completely broken – better results are expected as she gains experience in this field.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 1733.**

"I'm proud of you, Bunny," the general whispered into her ear as the enhanced girl was cleaning her face with a wetted rag from a basin nearby. Bunny, however, was shaking. In just a few days, she had gone from being a normal girl living in a suburbs to a little superhuman terror who was unafraid of being a monster. The change had caught up with her after she was done working on the prisoners provided to her. She had released her anger in a basic sense of justice, but fear and regret had replaced it, despite everything the general had talked about.

Four USDO officers in grey uniforms came in shortly after that, and they began unstrapping one of the prisoners from a chair. The man shouted in pain as the guards grabbed him by the arms and dragged him in front of Bunny. He had been thoroughly worked on. The general had lost count on the number of cuts on his body, though the number of fingers the man still had left was much easier to count. The prisoner had to be dragged to Bunny because he couldn't walk anymore, not because of exhaustion and pain, but because balancing would be an issue without the correct number of toes, though the fact that one of his knees had been drilled with an electric drill was much more pressing. He wouldn't have been able to navigate well anyway, with one of his eyes mutilated before being gouged out.

The prisoner, a disgraced Lombardi capo with a scorpion tattoo on his forehead, gave an off-keyed shout when he was dumped on his knees in front of Bunny; with half his teeth torn out, he couldn't even do that right.

General Blackwater unholstered his pistol and stuck it out in front of Bunny, handle-first.

"He's yours, Bunny. Protect your sisters. Shoot this man and show me that you can," he said, and when Bunny hesitated and stared at the gun, he continued: "If we let him live, he might escape and threaten them again."

Bunny had hesitated not because she was afraid or unwilling to kill. She had hesitated because she still found it hard to believe that she had changed so much, into something even she knew her Dad wouldn't like.

"Your parents will be proud of you. Your Dad hates killing, I know, but he'll understand. Obedience brings victory, Bunny," as if reading her mind, the general said. Bunny took the gun and cocked it. She pointed it at the captured criminal's forehead. His one good eye was staring into the barrel of the gun as if welcoming what would come out of it. It would be hard to understand why not, for he was shivering not just from the cold, but also from how stretches of his skin were hanging loosely from his side and chest.

"Obedience brings victory," Bunny repeated the general's words before squeezing the trigger. There was a brief, but loud explosion and the tattooed prisoner collapsed, finally released from his agony.

"You are ready, Bunny. I can feel it," the general said, a rare grin spreading across his face. He turned to the four USDO security officers. "Take the other two back to their cells. I have a feeling they'd be good for another training session."

"No! No, please! I confessed! I'm guilty! Please, no more!" one of the torture survivors begged as he was being unstrapped, cuffed and taken away. He was brought through the door, still dripping blood from his countless wounds. His screams could still be heard until eventually, he was too far away.

"Did you have fun?" the general asked Bunny, who'd been watching her torture victims being dragged out all along. She turned to him, looking up, more serious than ever before, the last vestiges of her innocence either stripped away or superseded, terrorized into hiding in some dark corner of her psyche. The general looked down to trade eye contact with her.

Bunny had never been surer in her life before. She was born (created) for this. A grin spread on her face to match the general.

"Yes."


	76. Chapter 70: Finest Hour

**Chapter 70: Finest Hour**

**B-50 Training Report 02281989-C (Continued)**

**Training Segment: Navigation**

**Time: 1800-1900**

Description: B-50 is given a map and instructed with the aim of memorizing the layout of The City of Townsville, as well as the surrounding country. This includes the power grid, sewage systems, phone lines, and other infrastructural layouts.

Results: B-50 is able to commit to memory even the finest details when it comes to any location in Townsville and the surrounding area. She scores 47/50 on a quiz prepared before the lesson, with the 3 mistakes attributed to misinterpretation of the elements on the map, not a failure of memory.

**Training Segment: Infiltration**

**Time: 1900-2000**

Description: B-50 is put under the charge of Corporal Nana Weston, who has moderate experience in covert operations and infiltration, in order for her to learn how to blend in with the general populace The lesson is conducted in a manner similar to a game of dress-up to ease the enhanced subject into the lesson.

Results: B-50 is able to disguise herself to the point of being completely unrecognizable as an enhanced being. The fact that there are very few physical aberrations to hide is a huge factor impacting her level of success, something which subjects created by even Chemical W does not have. Through the use of contact lenses, dyes or wigs, and various everyday clothing or uniforms, B-50 is able to blend into any environment ranging from a school to a summer camp to the streets to a suburban area.

* * *

**Training Segment: Dance (Ballet)**

**Date: 28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989**

**Time: 2000-2100**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: Nearing Graduation**

"Come on, sweetie, don't be shy," Nana Weston coaxed Bunny into a multi-function room, cleared for the hour's activity. "Take off your armor - here, let me help you. There's a good girl. Now, you're going to change into these tights and we're going to have some fun, okay?"

Bunny had been following her every word without question. Besides the fact that 'obedience brings victory', Nana Weston had become something of a surrogate mom in the absence of Selicia Goodwin, her real mom (though she didn't know, of course, that she wasn't really her biological mom). Nana had been extremely sweet to her, as a mom would be when other women would either give her the stare or avoid her entirely.

Nana was in a pair of dancing tights herself too, and while Bunny was busy putting her purple tights on, she was doing some warm-up exercises, stretching her muscles and even doing a split on the ground. Nana was so engrossed in this that she didn't notice that Bunny was done, and soon, she was spinning on the tip of her toes and pirouetting gracefully across the air as if effortlessly.

"But what are we doing?" Bunny asked, perplexed by the moves Nana was busting out. She knew beauty and art when she saw it, even if she couldn't quite describe them, but she couldn't see how it was related to protecting her family or fighting crime. "Do I do this when I'm out in the field?"

Nana stopped soon after Bunny started asking questions, listening.

"Heavens, no. We're just going to have some fun, Bunny. You and me, together," Nana said cryptically, a mothering smile on her face as she came forward and took Bunny by both hands.

"But I want to protect my family!" Bunny said, still focused on her previous lesson in 'enhanced interrogation'. It'd made clear what her purpose was. "General Blackwater said-"

Nana put a finger on Bunny's lips to shush her, before continuing.

"You know, I used to do this a lot before I joined… this place. I still dance sometimes," the corporal explained. "Dancing taught me many things - not just hard work and art. I learned to follow orders - really complex stuff, right down to where I point my toes and which direction I leap to and how. It made me who I am, and it gave me something to look back on. Now, why don't we start?"

Unknown to Bunny, General Blackwater and Director Cliff were watching from behind a one-way window.

"Ballet? You're joking. Right?" the director said, incredulous, as he watched the expensive enhanced individual he ordered doing a few basic spins and twirls, mastering them quickly.

"Dancing has its uses," General Blackwater said as he watched through the same window, far less surprised by the direction of the crash course he'd set Bunny on.

"And what would they be?" Director Cliff said sarcastically. "Is she going to dazzle the enemy with her dance moves? Are they going to fall over or fall in love with her because she knows how to put on a good show?"

"No. It will teach her how to use her body better," the general defended his decision, barely even aware that the director was highly skeptical of the current lesson. He was watching Bunny intently, determined not to miss even half a second of her doing ballet. "That, and it'd show her a thing or two about following orders. To the letter."

"If you say so," the director deferred to his decision. "As long as she does what she's supposed to do."

* * *

**Training Segment: Music**

**Time: 2000-2100**

Description: B-50 is to be taught how to sing by Nana Weston, with material taken from lullabies, children's songs and military marching songs. She is also taught the anthem, its meaning and significance to instill a degree of patriotism. She has been taught the use of several musical instruments common to US military tradition, such as drums and flutes.

Results: After a period of shyness, B-50 is able to 'sing like her most promising classmates' according to Weston. The most important thing, however, is B-50's new-found sense of rhythm and enhanced receptiveness and adherence to orders even if they are not given in the verbal or written form. The use of instruments is another matter, as memory work has nothing to do with skill. It will take time for her to master the instruments Nana Weston has chosen for her, but that is secondary to the actual objective of the lesson.

**Training Segment: Basic Military Drills**

**Time: 2100-2200**

Description: To complete B-50's training and ensure that it is well-rounded, she is introduced to the basics of regular military training, which includes marching drills, precision drills, cleanliness and grooming regimes, and alertness and scramble drills.

Results: B-50 is successful. No additional notes.

**Training Segment: Final Revisions**

**Time: 2200-2300**

Description: B-50 is given one final chance to clear any doubts by asking questions and practice whatever she believes to be lacking in her abilities. The entire B-50 training staff is present to assist, except for Sergeant Selicia Goodwin.

Results: Believed to be successful. B-50 is proactive in asking questions, filling holes in her understanding of her role that even our training doctrine has been unable to pre-emptively fill. One good example is regarding what she should do should she encounter specific enhanced enemies mentioned in brief to her – something that would only have been disseminated to her on a need-to-know basis. Not a single minute was wasted, and she spent the remainder of her time practicing unarmed and melee weapon drills.

* * *

**Training Segment: Finest Hour**

**Date: 28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989**

**Time: 2300-0000**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: Nearing Graduation**

'Your mission is simple,' Bunny recalled General Blackwater's words as she flew down the highway on her modified motorbike. Despite all her training and every preparation she made, she could still feel a tingling down her spine, goosebumps rising on her skin, nervousness making itself clearly known in her mind. There were butterflies in her stomach, fluttering aggressively. 'Your sisters, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, will be scrambled to attack a confirmed Foundation hideout. You will beat them to the location and attack it before your sisters do. You will do so without being seen by your sisters. The more enemies you kill, the less danger your sisters will be in. There's a chance there will be enhanced individuals similar to you guarding the site. I estimate that you have about 30 minutes to complete your mission if you leave immediately.'

The general would then go on to show her the location on the map. She was given free rein as to how she prepared for the mission. She would choose to equip herself with only a suppressed pistol and a combat knife for maximum stealth, not counting less offensive articles of gear. After painting black camouflage stripes on her face and contact lenses to mask the purple glow of her eyes, she took off in her motorcycle beyond the top speed, purple X-contrail trailing behind her.

With even the geography of the outskirts of Townsville memorized, Bunny was able to take the shortest route to the location, stopping a couple of miles away to proceed on foot – just like what the general said to do when approaching an enemy position in a vehicle.

Despite ditching her favorite and only bike hesitantly, Bunny was able to zip across the wilderness quickly, avoiding roots and branches and rock with her superior reaction time and finesse. Two miles were covered in mere minutes and Bunny would even leap to clear obstacles a normal human being would take minutes to scale, and she'd done it silently too, using what she'd learned about footfalls and landing in her stealth lessons.

The contact zone came within sight. Bunny squinted at her watch under the moonlight. She had about 14 minutes and 22 seconds left to complete the mission before her sisters showed up. Assuming they were on time. Part of her hesitated – oh how much she'd missed her sisters! She wanted so badly to meet them, too! But the mission was the mission, and orders were orders. 'Obedience brings victory,' she remembered what the general had so painstakingly and lovingly taught her. Victory, this time, meant protecting her sisters.

The site was an abandoned bunker. Two Foundation terrorists were guarding the entrance. Another two were patrolling its parameter, consisting of a ring of rusty, broken-down chain-link fence with many opportunities of entry for her that she was spoiled for choice.

She spent further precious seconds shifting her angle of reconnaissance, sighting the entrance of the bunker. The door was closed. Made of steel. Rusty, but sturdy. Still, it was likely no match for her.

She gave the patrolling terrorists time to circle away from her, their torchlights shining haphazardly across the wintry forest, but she had hidden too well to be seen. It was only when they had their backs turned that Bunny zipped in for the kill.

As she flew across the snow, past the chain-link fence, she unsheathed her knife. Her footsteps were soft, but still loud enough to be heard in a forest frozen by both the winter and the night.

But she was fast – blindingly fast. By the time one of the guards could shine his flashlight on her, she had already jammed her combat knife through his eye socket. The other Foundation agent could only give a frightened shout before his throat was slit in a single motion - a slice of the knife - and he couldn't even squeak. The bad guys' flashlights and guns tumbled to the ground, followed quickly by their bodies – Bunny was only able to catch hold of one of them. Flashlights were shining in her direction, mostly blocked by the surface protrusion of the abandoned bunker. She could hear the patrolling terrorists.

"Did I hear something?" One of them said, ignorant and puzzled.

"Could be nothing," the other said. "Just them fooling around again. I'm not radioing that in."

Bunny could tell from their lights that they were going to check anyway. Rushing to the wall of the bunker, she unholstered her suppressed pistol, came out from the corner and fired two precise rounds, the bullets, though subsonic, penetrating their foreheads. They fell almost simultaneously, and their comrades would be none the wiser because of their rusty, steel door.

She looked at her watch. 11 minutes and 35 seconds left. She stood before the door that would lead into an underground complex full of bad guys, some possibly stronger than her. After taking a deep breath and remembering that she would get to see Daddy the next day if she pulled through tonight, she sunk their fingers into the steel door, ripped it off its hinges and threw it aside in short order. The next thing Bunny saw was a flight of stairs leading down, lit dimly by barely-functional lights. A man sitting on a rickety wooden chair at the base of the stairs leading down squawked in surprise and fumbled for his pistol when he saw the impossible happening before him.

Bunny promptly quick-drew her pistol and shot him between the eyes, instantly killing him. The time for sneaking and hiding was up - this the enhanced girl knew when she heard more men and women barking orders and scrambling from deep within the bunker.

Leaping down several steps at a time, Bunny hopped to the landing of the concrete stairs to confront a group of six or so Foundation fighters. With pistol and knife in hand, Bunny rushed them, ignoring rounds fired in her general direction, the pain a mere inconvenience, before firing shots of her own while she closed the distance; two were killed outright, one with a bullet to the heart while another in the cerebrum. Another somehow survived a gunshot to the eye - which qualified as a miss to Bunny - collapsing as she screamed.

When Bunny was right next to them, her victory was a foregone conclusion. In rapid succession, she pistol-whipped one man, dashing his head against the concrete wall fatally before plunging her knife into the ear of another. The last man standing was wrestled to the ground as he screamed and fired pistol shots into Bunny's chest fruitlessly before she tore his head off his shoulders, painting the otherwise dull gray ground with his blood.

With the last man down, Bunny stood up again and looked at her watch. 10 minutes 20 seconds. Her armor was drenched in blood. There was gasping from the floor. Bunny searched it for the source. The woman who was shot in the eye was still clinging onto life. She pointed her suppressed pistol at her and squeezed, putting her out of her misery.

Next, she searched the bunker room by room for any other enemies who would hurt her sisters. The underground facility barely qualified as one. It was small, and the rooms were empty; the enemy had made it convenient for her by bunching together, it seemed. Thankfully, it also meant that there were no enhanced individuals like the feared four-armed Naga or the scheming Mojo Jojo in the area. She took a glance at her watch again. 4 minutes and 45 seconds. She had searched every nook and cranny of every room for any survivors hiding in any possible crack or hole or furniture, but there were none.

It was over. Her first mission was done. Beaming as she returned to the main corridor of the bunker, she admired the work of art she had created there - six bodies in one tight spot, most of them killed with clean shots, with only one of them executed rather messily. There were ten in total, which wasn't bad for a first mission. In the back of her mind, it was shocking - the blood, the gore she'd made, the violence and loud noises - but she'd learned to separate herself from it by the general's grace. She knew it had to be done. They were the enemy, and they were going to hurt her sisters.

Going back up to the surface and ditching the underworld, Bunny ran off to reclaim her motorized bike. Minutes later, pink, baby blue and lime green streaks of light would weave past trees and rocks and piles of snow towards the bunker.

* * *

**Pokey Oaks County. Abandoned Bunker 63-5A.**

**28 FEB (Tuesday) 1989. 2336.**

"Where is everybody?" Bubbles said, confused at how silent the forest was. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had flown into the forest expecting to take heavy fire. Yet, there was silence. They had crept up to the rusty chain-link fence, their eyes lit up like lanterns.

It didn't take long for them to discover the bodies as they inched their way towards the bunker. One of them was shot through the eye. The rest, the brain.

"I guess that answers your question," Blossom commented as they made their way towards the rusty steel door of the bunker. It was ajar.

"What a buzzkill," Buttercup said as she pointed her Stoner machine gun to and fro as she swept the landscape for enemies, only for there to be none.

It was the same story inside the bunker. A heap of bodies, all expertly killed, efficiently dispatched with a bullet to the brain or something less elegant but equally fatal.

There was nothing for them, and it'd confused them. It was something that had never happened before.

"What's going on?" Blossom wondered out loud. She didn't have to wonder for long.

"This is comms unit Bravo-3. Powerpuff Girls, what's your status? Over," the Girls' radio came alive.

"There's nothing here, Mister Bravo-3," Blossom reported.

"Everyone's dead, Mister Bravo-3!" Bubbles exclaimed into her radio.

"Yeah, there's no bad guys to fight! It's boring!" Buttercup complained. "Can we go somewhere else!?"

"Observations noted, Bravo-Four-Seven, Bravo-Four-Eight and Bravo-Four-Nine. There's nowhere else to go. Return home for R&R, over and out," the comms officer on the other end said, with an air of finality.

"But who did all this?" Blossom asked over the radio. There wasn't a reply to that. Compared to Bunny, the Powerpuff Girls' performance had been slipshod, though no one was there to tell them that. They had gotten lost on the way to the bunker as even Blossom wasn't very familiar with the county outside the City of Townsville. As a result, they were late. Even if they had arrived earlier than Bunny, they would have made a mess of things by attacking the Foundation cell head-on, alerting it to their presence right from the beginning outside the bunker and allowing the terrorists on the inside to send out a distress signal to the closest Foundation cell. The entire illegal organization would then come to know that they were being raided, and shift locations entirely.

* * *

**Training Segment: Graduation Ceremony**

**Date: 29 FEB (Wednesday) 1989**

**Time: 0000-0030**

**Subject: B-50 'Bunny Utonium'**

**Role: Black Ops Organic Weapons Platform (Bioweapon)**

**Status: Operationally Ready**

Bunny's bike roared as she drove it back to the USDO HQ beyond full speed. She was proud of what she'd done – she had protected her sisters, and she had beaten them at a game they were supposed to be better at. She'd barely even seen their X-contrails while she was leaving.

The garage doors had opened for her automatically while she was turning into the headquarters' underground carpark. She knew that it was strange – she knew at heart that she was supposed to answer a challenge question or give a password or a series of key phrases.

Something had changed.

And that change was made obvious when a surreal scene met her at the lobby of the HQ carpark when she came through. Two rows of USDO honor guards flanked her on either side of the door, ten on each side. At the other end of this human corridor was General Blackwater in his ceremonial uniform. Corporal Nana Weston stood beside her, in ceremonial uniform, too.

"B-50. Bunny," he announced to her. "You are ready. Graduated. Come forward."

She was so amazed at the sight that she couldn't react immediately, the general's request not registering immediately until she was aware that she would spoil it soon if she did not move. Coming forward to him, still, in her combat gear, her eyes met the general's, and they both agreed with each other.

The general saluted her. Bunny saluted him back. He then presented to her a pair of rank patches, each with a chevron on it. The general had deliberated for the entire length of Bunny's crash course on the manner of the enhanced girl's service. With each day that passed, he became ever more convinced of the current route he would take.

"You are not a cadet anymore, Bunny. As of the first hour of the twenty-ninth of February 1989, you are now Private Bunny Utonium," the general said before putting the rank patches into Bunny's outstretched hands. The girl's eyes misted as she smiled at the general. "A soldier in your own right, prepared, trained and qualified to defend your family, your sisters, the USDO and Townsville, against the forces of evil. Congratulations."

"What do I do now?" Bunny asked, unsure of what to do with herself now. It was all too overwhelming - just three days ago, she didn't even know which end of a knife to hold.

"For now, rest, Private Bunny Utonium. It's going to be a new day when you wake up," the general ordered. Nana took Bunny by the hand to guide her, first taking her into an elevator. By that point, the first thing Bunny was thinking about wasn't even Dad or her family any longer. Now, she wondered what the next mission would be…


	77. Chapter 71: Wait

**Reply to Guest: Yes, Buttercup's psychopathy is indeed undesirable. However, there's a reason why psychopathy, and by extension other mental illnesses, are prevalent is due to the fact that they are far more difficult to treat than physical illnesses. Drugs and chemicals can only do so much - assuming there's anything effective at all. In real life, they aren't really that effective against psychopathy, partly because psychopaths generally don't want to be treated and since I try to write as realistic as possible... That's not to say they won't try what you suggested though haha. But we'll see what happens in the future.**

**In the meantime guys, let me know your feedback on the story so far! I know the whole Critics United mess had made all parties a little skittish, but I welcome both positive and negative feedback as long as they're civil. Anyway, back to the regular program...**

* * *

**Chapter 71: Wait**

**Phone Recording 03011989-0734-TH**

**DOC: 01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989.**

**Extracted: 01 JUN 1989.**

Corporal Nana Weston: General Blackwater's office. Who am I speaking to?

Professor Utonium: It's me, Utonium.

Corporal Nana Weston: I assume you'll want to talk to the general?

Professor Utonium: Not yet. Nana, right? Have we met before?

Corporal Nana Weston: Not really. We've met at your house but never sat down to talk. I was recruited a couple months ago.

Professor Utonium: It doesn't matter. I heard about you from Selicia-

Corporal Nana Weston: I hope it isn't anything bad. Bunny's such a dear, Utonium. I enjoy teaching her what I can.

Professor Utonium: I heard. Selicia's a little jealous of you, but she trusts you. How is she? Bunny, I mean.

Corporal Nana Weston: She's… fine. The training's hard on her but she's taken well to it.

Professor Utonium. I see. Thanks for taking care of her - I mean it. I'd like to speak to the general now.

Corporal Nana Weston: Thank you too. It's an honor speaking to you, sir. Transferring now.

(There is beeping while the line is being transferred)

General Blackwater: Blackwater here. What is it?

Professor Utonium: General Blackwater! You said three days, general. Three days! Where is she? Where's my Bunny?

General Blackwater: Let me correct you there, prof. I said three days of training - and she'd just had three days' worth of training, and it's more than what you could ever provide her in your lifetime. Don't get your lab coat tied in a knot, professor. She'll be 'returned' to you today.

Professor Utonium: What have you done to her?

General Blackwater: What I should have done to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup right from the start. Don't call me again for such trivial matters. I assume that is all? (Hangs up)

Professor Utonium: (Hangs up after a pause)

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 0849.**

"You can't let him know about this, Private Bunny Utonium," General Blackwater said. Bunny was standing at attention in his office. Her face, however, was anything but a soldier's."Do you understand?"

"But… I tell my Dad everything," Bunny reluctantly said. She knew that the general was the kind who wouldn't take no for an answer. But Dad was everything to her, even now, when the general had more influence over her. "The man I shot- he-"

"Private Bunny Utonium!" the general growled at Bunny, who tensed up at the sound of his anger. She'd wanted to move away, preferably towards the door, but her discipline and training prevented her from moving. However, he eased up surprisingly, growing gentle: "Bunny - sweetheart - you know how your father is like. It would be good for both you and him that you tell him nothing. Let me take the fall for it."

"But you can't!" Bunny broke out of her pose, alarmed by what the general was suggesting. But on remembering that the general preferred her to be a little more stoic, stifled her own emotions and stood still. "I don't know if I can…"

"Your concern is duly noted, but he knows that I'm a killer. Nothing will change if I take the wrap for it," the general reasoned. Sensing that there was some awkwardness and too many emotions between them, he turned around to look out the window instead. "Besides, it wouldn't exactly be a lie, would it? I ordered his death, and you were merely carrying out that order. You did well, by the way, private. It's commendable that you did it despite your feelings for that man."

Bunny felt anything but comforted and proud. His blood was in her hands, and the fact that she was 'just' carrying out orders didn't make her feel any less guilty. And it showed. The general had caught a glance of her staring down at the floor, her face screwed up as she was concentrating her entire will on not crying. A drop of tear broke through anyway.

"Jesus, Bunny. I don't blame you for feeling this way. I've worked with that man for many years, and I know he's a likable guy," the general continued staring out the window, mulling over the bushes and trees swaying in the direction of the late winter wind. "But remember what I told you? About how some people would never understand? How some people could never see the greater good? Betrayal could come from anywhere, Bunny. It's why I've warned you to keep a close eye on your own family too."

Bunny thought about it. Her mind wandered - her heart was hurting now, and what better way to escape it than to return to the past? However, all she could think about was that moment when she fell into the rabbit hole, and there was no way out…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 0549.**

"God damn it! Of all the people to do this! Of all the people!" Bunny could hear General Blackwater ranting from a mile away. Her superior sense of hearing had left no mystery to unnerve her, but what she heard was unnerving enough. She had been ordered by the general to meet him, and Corporal Nana Weston was the messenger. She had been whispering advice into her ear on how to behave in front of the general (if Bunny's own experience wasn't enough), but her advice was only half-absorbed as Bunny was mainly focusing on what the general was screaming about. "After everything we've been through! So much for an understanding!"

Bunny was gently led into the office by Nana, who then closed the door behind her, and quickly too. The general whirled around the moment he heard her come in. The enhanced girl thought that she was silent, but apparently, she wasn't quiet enough.

"Private Bunny! Get over here!" the general bellowed at the lab-grown child, who scooted over, afraid but, for now, not afraid enough to express it. "Take a look at this map!" The general jabbed his massive finger at the paper. It felt to Bunny as though he might puncture it and the tabletop beneath. "You see this highway here? Highway 16?"

"Yes, General Blackwater," Bunny acknowledged. She didn't even need to read the map to imagine where Highway 16 was in relation to her position and orientation.

"A humvee FULL of TRAITORS is traveling down this highway towards the Town of Citysville," the general said. "They plan to destroy Project Powerpuff! Ruin everything we've achieved! It would mean losing any and all military gains we've made over the past three months! They are heading towards an FBI safe house in Citysville - they plan to spread sensitive data to the rest of the federal government! We can't have that - Foundation and criminal agents would gain access to those data! And the FBI - the rest of the feds - they're going to try to shut us down!"

By this point, the general was ranting to himself, absorbed in the consequences of the traitors' actions. Bunny wasn't able to understand all of it. For example, she had no idea where Citysville was or what kind of place it was, nor did she even understand what Project Powerpuff covered. But it didn't matter because…

"They are now enemies. And they will die as traitors. Private Bunny, that's your second mission. You will intercept the humvee along that highway - kill everyone in it - no mercy, no hesitation, no survivors," the general ordered at length. Looking at Bunny, however, he noticed that she was shifting uncomfortably. She knew enough to understand that she would be killing people who weren't terrorists or criminals. "If they reach their destination, Bunny, you will be separated from your family forever. Your family will be broken apart - your sisters will never see each other again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes…"

* * *

**Pokey Oaks County. Highway 16. En route to the Town of Citysville.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 0637.**

A humvee's top speed was about 70 miles an hour. A sensible driver, however, would drive it at slightly below the military engine's maximum, at 60 miles per hour. It would mean that the USDO deserters were halfway to Citysville by then, just passing by the town of Pilgrim's Fall since they had left just under half an hour ago. Bunny's modified bike had a top speed of 100 miles per hour, and she was capable of pushing it beyond that. General Blackwater had measured 140 miles per hour, which meant that Bunny would be able to catch up with them on the outskirts of Citysville, Townsville's sister city.

And this, Bunny had done. Within under an hour, after pushing her and her modified motorcycle hard, she was able to catch up with the traitor humvee on a hot pursuit, screaming rapidly towards them like a bird-of-prey. As it was an open highway with the morning commute still incoming, there were few vehicles on the road. She was sighted immediately when she came within range.

A USDO deserter-soldier popped out of the hatch on the roof of the humvee to man the machinegun on top. Bunny swung left and right on both the right and the wrong lanes to avoid the machinegun fire, at one point nearly hitting a civilian sedan. She had swung back to the right lane in a nick of time. Tracer rounds gave away the deserter's aim. Only a few bullets had hit home, doing nothing to Bunny's arm but ripping pieces off the hull of her motorcycle. They weren't aiming at her; they were aiming at her vehicle. And Bunny didn't like that one bit.

She had anticipated this and brought an answer to the machinegun. Pulling a Mk 153 Shoulder-Launched Multipurpose Assault Weapon from her back, Bunny aimed it at the machinegun one-handed and fired, blowing up the machinegun with an explosive rocket and sending the deserter flying ahead of the humvee and landing on the road. He was run over across the chest by his own vehicle, leaving a huge, bloody splat behind with two unequally sized parts of a body. He didn't survive the accident for long, only enough to see that he had lost more than half his body.

Bunny was easily able to close the distance between bike and humvee after that, and she'd done far more than that. After catching up with the humvee, she went above and beyond and overtook it, and then some - putting distance between herself and the gray humvee of the USDO. In the meantime, she reloaded her rocket launcher one-handed.

The soldiers within the humvee weren't deterred by their comrade's gruesome fate. Coming out from the side window of the shotgun seat, another deserting USDO soldier began firing shots at her using an XM4 Carbine, but even her armor wasn't penetrated at all, and the pain down her back was negligible due to the protection it provided.

Giving herself another boost while ignoring the enemy rifle shots, she screamed far ahead of the humvee before swerving and stopping. Bunny aimed her SMAW downrange, the weapon huge on her small frame, and fired her rocket.

The anti-tank ordnance slammed into the humvee's front, exploding and completely penetrating the armor, destroying the engine. It was a HEAT warhead, something a small vehicle like the humvee could not hope to stand up against.

The humvee swerved, spinning on the highway as the driver lost control. To his credit, however, the humvee did not flip. The brakes were applied, and the military vehicle stopped a distance from Bunny, who had thrown away the shoulder-fired rocket launcher in favor of pulling out her suppressed pistol. The soldier at the shotgun window, disorientated by the blast and bumpy ride, was shot dead mere seconds after his vehicle died.

More men began pouring out of the downed vehicle. The driver and one other soldier in the backseat, who was dragging along some non-combatant in a flak jacket. Bunny exchanged shots with the driver, who was armed with an MP5K submachinegun. His rounds slammed into her chest and head but were just mere inconveniences that inflamed her. The driver wasn't as durable and died on the spot.

The remaining two men didn't even fight back as they ran towards the snowy forests at the side of the highway, only for Bunny to put shots in their backs. Being reaction shots, she wasn't sure if she was able to kill them; she was aiming for their hearts. But they did go down.

Grimacing because of the violence, Bunny walked towards her latest pair of victims. She didn't like what she had done one bit, but Obedience Brings Victory, and that victory would save her family from being torn apart because of selfish traitors who would hurt the feelings of her beloved Douglas Carver.

When she reached the two, she flipped the soldier on his back first. He sprang, thrusting his pistol at her. Bunny seized it before he could fire it and thrust her foot down into his face, smashing it like watermelon and his helmet was like a bucket, collecting the melon juice and pulp.

As it turned out, the non-combatant was still alive, too, and he'd gotten up and bolted surprisingly fast. But Bunny was faster. Within milliseconds, she concluded that he was still alive because of his flak jacket, and so she aimed higher to bypass the Kevlar inserts. The man flew forward from the force, twirling before falling to the ground a second time, this time on his side. He screamed, and that scream sounded familiar. Bunny walked up to him. The man rolled over, and for the first time, she got a good look at his face.

It was Mister Wiggums, the man she had yet to apologize to.

"Why, Mister Wiggums?" she gasped in surprise. She knew she recognized his ponytail, but she refused to believe that a nice man like him would turn traitor. The soldiers who she did not recognize were more acceptable as enemies. "Why did you betray us?"

"Is that what Blackwater said?" the thin, poorly-built logistician said while sitting up

"He wouldn't lie to me," Bunny said.

"I was trying to help, Bunny," Wiggums claimed. "It's something I should have done sooner."

"The 'FBI' would have taken away my family, Mister Wiggums! I won't be able to see them again!" Bunny snarled at him; she didn't like the idea of anyone hurting her family, or even put a finger on them in any way. She was supposed to be back home with her family today. It was painful to stomach even a possibility that that would not happen. "Is it true, Wiggums? Would that happen?"

Wiggums hesitated. "Yes."

Bunny's eyes widened. She lifted her suppressed pistol and aimed it at his head.

"But it would have been for the best. Look at what he's done to you! And your sisters!" Wiggums countered. "And you're going to defend him? Think about it, man!"

"The FBI would have separated all of you, sure, but they wouldn't hurt you! And they'll make sure General Blackwater can't hurt you either!" he went on. Bunny wasn't convinced. Her mind was still held up at the part where he admitted that whatever he was doing would break her family apart. "They might even reunite all of you in a few years' time after the USDO's finished!"

A few years. To Bunny, who had lived only a week, it might as well be a million years. Wiggums was a complete traitor - planning to break her family up, and even admitting that he wanted the USDO destroyed. Bunny had a special treatment for traitors. Without another word, Bunny drew her knife and thrust it at him. He was just about able to block the blow with his hand, but the blade had gone through his palm and out the back of his hand. He howled loudly.

"Wait! Please!" he screamed, but Bunny was beyond reasoning. Hatred had long filled her heart, and it was like a drug - young as she was, she couldn't resist what she felt. She withdrew her knife and stabbed him again, this time in his chest - but she wasn't aiming. She couldn't - tears stung her eyes as she felt the betrayal hard. Wiggums screamed, but Bunny didn't care. She continued stabbing him in the chest over and over. The Kevlar plate in his flak jacket hindered her, so she tore it away and continued stabbing until he fell to the ground.

But he was still breathing.

"Wait…" he croaked, the snow beneath him turning red. "Please…"

Bunny didn't wait. Instead, she quoted from memory Blackwater's message for Wiggums - to be given to him if he was still alive and subdued: "Blackwater told me to tell you this, Mister Wiggums: You are hereby charged with desertion, abandoning your post, dereliction of duty, the attempted release of top-secret data, the endangerment of your fellow USDO agents and treason to the United States of America. The penalty is summary execution."

Bunny did not understand half of it, but it all felt right to say.

"Wait…" Wiggums was still croaking, coughing up blood. But Bunny did not wait. She plunged her knife into him one last time - this time through the eye and upwards, an instantly fatal stroke. Blood spattered on her and on the snow when she withdrew her blade. Little red dots forming a line along with the force of the withdrawal.

Obedience had brought victory, and it'd made sure her family stayed together too. She had to admit that there were some doubts in her when Wiggums claimed that what he was doing was for the best, but she would never doubt General Blackwater again - as long as she got to see her family.

"I'm sorry…" she finally apologized to him, though he wasn't quite there anymore to hear it. "You were nice to me."

With that, she returned to the humvee she had disabled. After punching open the fuel hatch, she lit a bundle of paper taken from a box of documents inside the military vehicle and lit it on fire. She'd made sure to spread the fire to the interior of the vehicles and the boxes of documents found inside before throwing the bundle of fire through the humvee's fuel filler line and into the fuel tank. She walked away, leaving the vehicle to erupt in flames.

Before she left the scene altogether, she took one last look at Mister Wiggums, a good man she had killed, with tearful eyes. Her gaze then wandered briefly to the decaying, polluted town of Citysville and its iconic suspension bridge before mounting her motorcycle and driving away. Sirens blared at the distance as cops from Townsville's sister city caught wind of the strange incursion.

* * *

"It's my third day here, Daddy, and… I don't know how I feel. I want so much to be back with you and Mom and Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup but… General Blackwater felt like home too. He's done some bad things to me, but they felt good. I remember how you kept pushing me, Dad. You kept pushing me to stand up, to walk, to talk and brush my own teeth. What he was doing felt like the same thing.

Both of you have taught me to do the right thing, even though I don't feel like doing it. The two of you don't seem to like each other, but I wish we could all meet and have a nice party. Blackwater can be really nice too.

I'll do whatever it takes to see you again, Dad. I'll do anything for you, and Mom, and my sisters. Will you be proud of me, Dad? I can't wait to see you again - General Blackwater said I'll be able to do that tomorrow! (yawns) I'm going to sleep now. Tomorrow wouldn't come if I don't, right? I can't wait! Good night, Dad, good night, voice recorder!" - Bunny Utonium, 03/01/89, 0015. Sound Record File 3


	78. Chapter 72: Sacrifice (Part 1)

**A/N: Sorry it took me forever to upload this one. 7-8 days, last I counted. However, there's a bit of good news in that. It's because what you see in this chapter is less than half of what I've written so far in the past 7-8 days. At first, I had 2000 words that I decided after the fact should belong to a future chapter further down the line, then I wrote something like 6000 words before deciding that I should split things up into a multi-parter. Yeah, in other words, I've written really far ahead. Expect the next couple of chapters to be posted in rapid succession. Merry Christmas!**

* * *

**Chapter 72: Sacrifice (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Tenements District. Tenements-Slums Border.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1221.**

"Sorry we had to take you out from your class, Blossom," Detective Mullens said to the leader of the Powerpuff Girls as they strolled through the sidewalk of a street with crumbled curbs and potholes at places. "I know you like to do your ABCs and 123s, but crime is changing now ever since you came on board. They know you're a kid, and some of them thought you'd be less inclined to fight crime during class."

"I hate missing class, but if people need help, I don't mind," Blossom said, hovering beside him.

"Ah! Who needs classes anyway? Math isn't going to help me beat up the bad guys!" Buttercup exclaimed dismissively. She wasn't stupid - quite the opposite of that - but she'd be damned if she was willing to admit that she needed something so insubstantial as alphabets and numbers.

"I'm just glad to see you - and Olivia, and Stanley…" Bubbles added. It managed to coax a smile out of Mullens.

"Yeah, it's been forever since we met - what happened anyway? Why aren't we seeing each other more often?" Blossom asked though she had some ideas of her own. Helping the Amoeba Boys help her fight crime might have something to do with it - but shouldn't good people be on the same side? Even if they weren't friends? Even kids knew how to make it up to one another!

"It's a long story," Olivia said. "We'll talk about that after this is all over." In truth, she knew that it would be difficult to explain politics and the ugly side of law enforcement to the Girls, and she knew that her father had the same thoughts too.

"Rit's not rhat long a story," Stanley the talking dog commented but said nothing more - he disagreed with Olivia's stance, but only because he knew better than the Girls. Bubbles touched down next to him, sensing something negative in him, and began walking next to him with an arm around the large German Shepherd's neck. She thought he was just lonely, but the talking dog appreciated her company all the same.

"What are we doing anyway? Who're we beating up?" Buttercup asked impatiently. She didn't like the conversation they were having. It was too boring, and she wasn't in the center of it.

"Hey! I was just about to ask that!" Blossom retorted. Detective Mullens stopped, his hand going up to her shoulder. They were close to a T-junction. Strangely, the area was bereft of moving vehicles - something that the Girls were beginning to notice.

"The three of you aren't going to like this…" Olivia muttered. She didn't like putting the Powerpuff Girls through the dirty side of law enforcement – and this time, it was quite literal in that sense.

"I don't like the sound of that…" Bubbles mumbled, afraid of what Olivia meant. No one had to explain anything, for when they rounded a corner on the T-junction, they were faced with an open manhole on the streets. The stink came after that after it occurred to the Girls why there were no moving vehicles on the streets and in the area.

"Ewww! Not again!" Blossom exclaimed. "The smell's worse this time too!"

"The bad guys stink!" Buttercup added. "Why do they have to be down there anyway? I'd die if I have to live down there!"

"Yes, they do stink. There were reports of them using the sewers as their personal underground railroad even long before you were born," Detective Mullens explained. "With the three of you kicking their butts every other day, they've started using it more often than ever to move their souvenirs around."

"We're catching on to them," Olivia added. They stopped right beside the manhole. "We're not the only ones flushing them out. Some pals of ours - good officers I know - are doing the same thing. Have at it, kids."

"I hope this is the last time we're going in there…" Blossom said. She couldn't help but pinch her nose as she jumped down the manhole upon reaching it. Everyone was looking down after her, and they saw that she had lit up her eyes and illuminated the chute she was going down at first, then the muck in front of her.

"I'm going to hand them an extra-large knuckle sandwich when I see them!" Buttercup threatened the unseen criminals as she jumped down to follow her leader sister, lighting up her eyes the same way.

"I'll never get the stink off this time…" Bubbles mewled.

"Hey, at least you'll get to enjoy a long bath," Olivia joked.

"That would be nice…" Bubbles said with a faint smile. She was shivering, feeling a little cold but sweating anyway. The smell was making it worse. Without another word, she jumped into the manhole.

It took a lot longer for Mullens, Olivia and Stanley to get down below. In the meantime, the leading detective had gotten the Girls to move forward, towards the crumbling tunnels below the slums. As the Girls crossed over to the sewers of the slums, they noticed that even the infrastructure below had a border between the have-nots and the definitely-have-nots, with steel bars separating the sewers of the two regions. A barred door was supposed to act as a portal that could never be crossed, but the chains and padlocks securing it were snapped open.

"We're on the right track. Must be the smugglers who did it," Mullens explained when Blossom reported the observation on the radio.

And so they went deeper inwards, and deeper, until-

Bang! Someone shot at Blossom, who ducked the moment she saw the glint of metal in the darkness. The Girls scattered, with Bubbles and Buttercup hanging onto the curved walls of the sewage tunnel, but soon, they were darting towards the shooter, with Blossom tackling him and punching him out.

But there were more of them, letting off shots that ricocheted off Girls and masonry. The Girls pursued them.

"What the hell's going on!?" Mullens shouted over the radio. As usual, he and his team had to play catch up. It was the only way, seeing how vulnerable he and his daughter were against even the lightest of weapons.

"There're lots of them!" Blossom reported over the radio. Mullens could hear more from her, though it wasn't intentional on the enhanced little girl's part: "Buttercup, right, Bubbles, left!"

Back to the Girls, the bad guys they were pursuing had retreated deeper into the tunnels, splitting up at a cross junction, necessitating that the Girls split up as well. It wasn't hard to catch up with the bad guys - whoever they were. Blossom was able to knock a second shooter into the brownish water of the sewers, which was when she realized who they were. The second man was wearing red robes.

"Mister Mullens! It's them! It's the cultists!" Blossom screamed into the radio, but before she could say anything more, a hail of bullets struck her, and a few had shredded her radio, which fizzled in its death throes. A group of them had found her, and as soon as she turned her lit-up gaze at them, they fled. "Come back here!"

The lack of communication was the least of her problem when she had cultists to catch, and they'd just turned a corner to her left, which she followed.

In the meantime, Bubbles was being led deeper to the left - which, by coincidence, was to the west. A man was running away from her, popping off wild shots with some kind of small rapid-fire weapon while he was at it. She was feeling feverish and sweaty, but that was the least of her concerns. She could feel it coming back. Delaying her medication wasn't a good idea, but the timing of the operation couldn't be worse.

Making a final push, she landed on top of the shooter before kicking him in the back of the head and cuffing him to a set of railings. Just when she thought it was safe to inject herself with the watered-down His Secret that her Dad called her withdrawal meds, more men, which she noticed were cultists from the red robes, had emerged from further down the tunnel to fire upon her once more.

Buttercup had been doing the same thing, taking out one cultist after another, following them like breadcrumbs. At first, she was doing the right thing because Mullens was around - incapacitating the cultists for retrieval later, but as she got deeper and deeper towards the eastern part of the sewers, she began to care less, and she began questioning her adherence to the 'right' way of doing things. She had been killing criminals even in full view of Blossom recently, so why should she stop now? Could they even arrest all of them and bring them in without some of them escaping?

She'd answered that question by driving her fist through the chest of the next cultist she encountered.

Killing the cultist felt like a reward. The very act of defiance was thrilling - and it was a gift that kept on giving. In the distance, further and deeper into the sewers, a couple of cultists had opened fire on her with pistols. She flew towards them, driven by bloodlust, first smacking away one of the cultists' weapons before smashing her face in. As the second cultist fired on her at point-blank range with futility, Buttercup simply looked at him from head to toe and her laser did the rest, splitting the man down in half vertically. It'd taken lots of energy to do that, but the result was worth it. Buttercup cackled with delight at her 'artwork'.

Yet further ahead was another reward - a woman in red robes, armed with a pair of scimitars. For some reason, she knew - she just knew that the swords were made of Duranium. The glint of the metal had given it away, and the Duranium had shined like never before, in a way that no other metal would do so.

It was different this time, however. Like Little Red Riding Hood, the woman in red ran away, turning a corner to disappear. Buttercup, like the Big Bad Wolf, gave chase, expecting the woman to be sloshing in feces and urine helplessly… Only to find that the woman was faster than she'd thought. Buttercup could just - only just - see her bare heels and robes flitting away in a corner.

"Are you scared, little girl!?" Buttercup yelled sadistically. She liked that she was inspiring fear in the cultic swordswoman - she imagined that she had a reputation in Townsville. Didn't they call her the 'Teeth Collector'? She liked the sound of that, and she'd thought about restarting her jar of teeth, except she'd try to hide it better from Mom and Dad.

Turning the next corner, Buttercup was met with a long corridor. She stopped. It wasn't a sewage corridor. It was like a corridor in her home – the carpet and the walls were exactly the same. Except this corridor was longer. Instead of a cultist, Mom was standing at the end of this corridor instead. It was bright at the end of the corridor, and Mom, in her red dress, looked like an angel.

"Mom?" Buttercup muttered, confused. She landed on the carpet, walking cautiously towards her. Something wasn't right – but how was this happening? Even the stink of the sewers was gone, replaced by Mom's perfume.

Instead of waiting for her, the Mom turned around and started walking away. Buttercup noticed that she was wearing black heels.

"Mom, wait!" Buttercup shouted after her and started running. The figure at the end of the corridor merely turned and laughed, beckoning for her to follow.

There was only one thing Buttercup could do as she was isolated from friends and family, led far away from them. Even her radio was picking up only garbles and static.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenements District. Tenements-Slums Border.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1235.**

On the other end of the local sewer system, Blossom had downed what felt like ten or more cultists. Were they all cultists? Blossom wasn't sure, as not all of them had donned robes or red clothing. She had been led into a huge circular area, where a man with a spear had rushed her from behind some kind of a water pump. The spear tip had flashed all kinds of color out in the dark. Duranium. It was clearer than before - Blossom knew that she had developed some kind of new ability, one that allowed her to see Duranium better than ever.

The man thrust the weapon at her, but she was able to hover sideways, duck and land to avoid his strikes. Frustrated, the man, robed in red so she knew he was with the cult, swiped at her with the spear. Blossom didn't expect this, but she'd blocked it with her arms out of reflex. The man wasn't strong enough, and only her Kevlar arm guards were damaged.

Throwing off his robes, the man thrust his spear at her once more, taking advantage of the momentum of his attack. All Blossom could do was block it - but something new happened. A luminous, pink bubble had formed around her, and the man's Duranium spear had bounced off of this protective shielding. Blossom didn't have time to be amazed at herself. As the man staggered back, she gave him an uppercut, sending him flying and landing in the water. The moment he emerged out of the putrid gray-water, gasping for air, Blossom gave him another punch, knocking him out before dragging him to dry land.

Blossom was surprised that she was able to pull it off, but then again, it wasn't totally unexpected. Bubbles had been teaching her and Buttercup how to form a protective shielding around them for days. It'd turned out to be similar to flying. The sensations of energy coursing through her was the same, except through the arms. It then became a matter of channeling it.

However, she still couldn't help but worry about Bubbles, even though she had proven herself to be willing and able to fight, a far cry from the helpless little babe she used to be back in the days before the Silver Age Cinema.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenements District. Tenements-Slums Border.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1239.**

At the northern end of the septic tunnels, Bubbles hadn't encountered many people who would do her harm. There were some who came at her one at a time, curiously, leading her deeper and deeper north, but after six or seven foolhardy cultists had fed themselves to her punches, there were no more. Despite this, she'd gone on ahead anyway, wondering if the cultists were trying to stop her from discovering something.

Deeper in, she came upon a flight of stairs leading up to a door. A man in jeans and jacket fired upon her with a sawed-off shotgun the moment she did. Kicking herself off to a high flying position while blocking the shots with her baby blue shield bubble, she unleashed an ion beam on him, paralyzing him with pain. The man's hand-held radio fizzled out of life as he fell down the flight of stairs. Not wanting to hurt him too much, Bubbles flew to his rescue and picked him up before he could roll down the stairs all the way. She cuffed him on the railing of the stairs before landing behind the door he was guarding. With bated breath, she opened it on tiptoes and went through it, expecting a squad of crack dealers to come down on her.

Except there was no one. The room was a dimly-lit, dilapidated and sad affair. The walls were naked bricks. She recognized it as some kind of office, but with the wooden furniture half-eaten by mold and other bottom feeders. The only source of light was coming from a rusted floodlight, with bulbs that were likely on the verge of blowing out. A crate stood in its glare.

Bubbles walked up to it, her head bowed as if the ceiling might come down on her any second. She knew what the crate contained the moment she saw it. They were only in the sewers for one reason thus far. The crate was a big one, but short enough for someone as short as her could easily see what was inside.

She stopped. She couldn't even breathe the moment she realized what was in it. It was a crate full of drugs, and not just any drugs. Stacked neatly in a grid pattern were plastic boxes filled with metal syringes. His Secret 2.0. She could see the labels. The fact that she had been sweating and shivering from the cold that wasn't even there became even more acute, reminding her of her forbidden cravings.

With shaky hands, she took one box out of the crate and opened the translucent and white plastic container. There were five in it, enough for a week if she rationed it. She pulled one out, studying it, thinking bad thoughts, wondering if she should give the drug another go, fooling herself that it'd be different this time, that she could somehow take it and be herself and be fine.

'Maybe just a little,' she thought as she continued to eye the metal syringe as if she was seeing a long lost sister or someone she loved who'd been away. Someone like Bunny.

'A little can't hurt, right?' she thought as she unsheathed the needle and began unrolling her sleeve. In the meantime, somewhere in the tunnels, there was a loud explosion somewhere, and the gunshots behind her were growing louder. A headache surged in her. The past followed - how she pursued her own sister, Blossom, across Townsville to harm her, how she hurt her entire family badly, stabbed Blossom in the shoulder after knocking out Mom and Buttercup via severe head injuries. How she nearly killed Dad.

The memories were painful, and she crushed the syringe full of red liquid in one little hand. The red liquid, sparkling with bits of broken glass, dripped from her hand. It'd hurt a little, feeling the cracked glass in her hand and the jagged metal, but it felt so much better than the Fairy Godmother's tricks.

She'd come very close to relapsing and repeating her past mistake again, and it didn't feel good. The worst part? She felt the same frustrations she would have felt in the past, had she been denied the drug. The pain of abstinence was faded, but not enough.

Screaming in anger, Bubbles flipped the entire crate over, spilling lunchbox-sized containers filled with illegal drugs all over the dirty, concrete floor. She started stomping on them, and she did it hard enough to flatten both plastic containers and metal syringes in a single motion. She was so absorbed in the drug's destruction that she didn't hear the door open behind her, nor the footsteps of a man coming up to her.

She'd only noticed when she felt a hand on her shoulder, at which point she turned around with a scream and pointed her SMG at whoever it was behind her, lightning-fast.

"Hey, hey! Bubbles! It's me!" the man behind her had put his hands up, his revolver still clutched in his hand. It was Mister Mullens. Bubbles didn't lower weapon immediately, still in her moment. She was panting like an agitated animal, her teeth gritted as she glared at the man. The detective knew immediately that something wasn't just wrong. Something was very wrong. He peeked at the floor. Drugs. He knew what it meant.

Olivia came up behind him when nothing had happened so far; she was told to stay behind as backup. Garrett didn't tell her that he was just playing it safe, making sure that his daughter would live in case he was facing down a room full of crack dealers.

"Are my eyes red!?" Bubbles snarled, still feeling the fire in her, embers leftover from her addiction. Her MP5 shook in her hands. Detective Mullens looked her in the eyes long and hard. It was difficult to do so, more so than staring into the eyes of hardened criminals, but he made himself do it.

"No," he said.

"What did you do!?" Olivia exclaimed when she saw the drugs on the floor and what Bubbles had done to them. Her father had to stop her from confronting the Powerpuff Girl. In her hysterical rage, Bubbles had unknowingly destroyed evidence and damaged the crime scene.

"Stop, Olive, it's not important right now," Mullens said.

Bubbles remembered what she'd done to Mister Mullens the day she tried to kill her Dad. When she'd put a bullet into his chest, she had thought then that she had lost a friend. In the red haze of her addiction, that wasn't a problem as all that mattered was the drug - the realization that she had nearly lost a friend only came later when she was on the Duranium table.

Her gun shook, still trained on Mullens, but then it went down. She'd done it again - that was what she thought. She'd nearly put everyone she cared about in danger.

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles cried as she scooted away. "I'm so sorry…" She'd hid under one of those desks, ashamed of herself.


	79. Chapter 73: Sacrifice (Part 2)

**Reply to Guest: Yep, sad to see one of the original characters go. We'll see what comes of it :)**

* * *

**Chapter 73: Sacrifice (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Tenements District. Tenements-Slums Border.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1242.**

Buttercup ran down the corridor when Mom went out of sight. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, with endless doors flitting by. There were too many for it to be her house. Some of them would open and slam shut as if moved by invisible hands, and Buttercup would catch a glimpse of herself, re-enacting some past event. When there was still no Mom, she took flight towards the white, until even the infinity corridor she was in was taken over by the light, until all she could see was searing, bright whiteness that she had to cover her eyes.

"Mom? Where are you?" Buttercup felt like she was talking into a void because there was no reply. She could still see the light through her hands, somehow. But as time passed, it'd gone down somewhat. She uncovered her eyes…

Only to see that she wasn't alone. And there was no Mom.

The cultic swordswoman was standing before her, but she was different. Her hood was down, and she was wearing some sort of golden cultic mask that obscured much of her face except for the mouth. Spikes held together by bands rose from the top, making her look imposing - not that it was enough to intimidate Buttercup. What was more alarming was the assembly before her - some twenty or so other cultists, sitting on raised ledges in a kind of central area in the sewers, though it looked more like an auditorium rather than a place for human waste. They were mostly unarmed, with some wearing belts with swords or pistols hanging off them. It looked as if they weren't expecting her to put up a fight as if they weren't expected to fight even if she did.

Buttercup raised her light machinegun, intimidated by the number of cultists. She had never felt alone - indeed, she had never felt the need for her sisters, or anyone in her family, to be around her until now.

"I'll kill every one of you!" Buttercup yelled, her face a rage-filled grimace. "Try and make me!"

"Hush, shadow-kin," the cultic swordswoman said, apparently unafraid of the machinegun she was pointing at her. Instead, she stepped forward, barefooted. Buttercup tightened her grip on her heavy weapon.

Buttercup had anticipated more violence, but she was met with something else instead. The cultic swordswoman dropped her swords before the spiciest of the Powerpuff Girls instead, the blades clattering on the mossy old concrete.

"You are among friends, 'Buttercup Utonium',' she said.

"Who are you?" Buttercup asked, disarmed by curiosity of all things.

"I am Ishtar, but it does not matter," the cultist introduced herself, sort of. "What matters is that you're a very special girl."

There was no violence to be had. It was a shame, as Buttercup welcomed the challenge and thrill of facing over twenty cultists on her own, though she wasn't sure if they were enhanced beyond baseline human performance.

"Of course I'm special! But what's going on, missus?" Buttercup asked. The only reason why she didn't pump the red-robed woman before her full of lead was that she had information, things she never knew she wanted to know.

"You are about to meet someone very important, shadow-kin," the woman said, before extending a hand for her to take. Buttercup took it, and she was led down the sewage hall. "Someone you should be expecting. The cat had spoken about him, had it not?"

The woman had been blocking the view all along. An altar had been arranged in the middle of the septic auditorium. Braziers surrounded it. Someone was lying down on top of it. Buttercup squinted to see who it was, but unlike Blossom, she couldn't 'zoom in' her vision much. All she knew was that she - the person was a girl - wasn't wearing any clothes. She wasn't sure how old she was, but she had been tattooed all over with lines running across her entire body. She looked to be older than her, that was all she knew.

"The cat?" Buttercup wondered about what the woman meant. It didn't come back to her immediately. But it'd hit her soon enough. "The dead cat? How did you know about it?"

"His Magnificence is everywhere, dear Buttercup," the cultist woman said. "And now, you're going to take an important step towards seizing your birthright…"

The cultist woman led Buttercup to the altar, right up next to it. The girl was a teenager, nearly old enough to get married. Buttercup could tell, because the girl on the altar had a far more pronounced chest, like all the adults. She was also tattooed from neck to toe, though she wasn't sure if her face was pure or inked. She was wearing a golden mask like the cultic swordswoman, though it was without the spikes. Stylized tears were drawn below the eyes of the altar girl's mask, like that of masks worn by Greek actors.

Her tattoos were like nothing Buttercup had seen on the various criminals she had fought. They were lines tracing the natural curves of the human body, with hieroglyphics and pictographs that looked alien, a world removed from a modern, American city. The girl wasn't chained to the altar, and yet she was lying down on it as if it was bedtime. Buttercup thought she was brave (though not as brave as her), considering how she was lying down soldier-styled and face-up instead of curling up into a fetal position.

"She has been specially prepared for you," the cultist woman said, waving a hand at the shapely young lady on the altar. "She's the best among us. Intelligent, strong, beautiful… with an unshakable faith in Him. And yet so young, so very young… A worthy sacrifice."

Buttercup was thrilled by this sacrifice. It'd reminded her of that last time in the Silver Age Cinema when a cultist had given himself over to her, to be mutilated at her pleasure. He had smiled all the way, even after she ripped his lower jaw off.

But this one seemed different somehow, and it wasn't just because it was a step towards meeting the friends the dead cat had been promising her all those weeks ago.

"What do I do?" Buttercup asked. The cult set-up seemed elaborate, formal. The cultic swordswoman took a ceremonial knife from the altar and handed it to Buttercup.

"Do you see that circle on her chest? Stab her heart, that which is marked by the Circle of the Shadow, and leave the Dagger of the Holy Assumption in," the red-robed woman hissed. She'd explained the steps loud enough for the entire congregation to hear, and yet the girl to be sacrificed did not even flinch one bit. "Do this for yourself, and I will guide you along after."

Buttercup could see it. The Circle of the Shadow was like a target on the sacrificial lamb's chest, with hieroglyphs written all around it. There was no mistaking where she would plunge the Dagger of the Holy Assumption in.

"But my Dad…" Buttercup hesitated. She'd thought back to what Professor Utonium had done to her to make sure she would not hurt anyone again, the things he had said to her. But he'd gotten through to her more than that, beyond threats of grounding or the forfeiture of her desserts. The silver lining in her brain had done its work - a little bit here and a little bit there, ensuring that she'd felt a little guilt here and a little sadness there to make her understand subconsciously. Easy to ignore usually, but not during a pivotal moment like this. She backed away, dagger still clutched in her hand.

The cultist woman pushed her forward gently, a hand on her shoulder.

"He is not your real father, Buttercup. Did you not see the signs of it?" the cultist said. "He is denying you your true destiny even now - you have a powerful friend waiting for you, Buttercup. You'll need only take a step forward…"

The cultist placed her hands around Buttercup's tiny, gloved hand and guided her towards the sacrifice. Buttercup had to float to see what she was doing.

"Do it," the golden-masked cultist egged her on. Buttercup gasped; she wanted to. She knew the pleasure of killing all too well, and the promise of friendship with this new, all-powerful entity was enticing. She'd been fed well with cultists, and she wanted more! Damn her Dad for holding her back! It's not like she would ever be first in line for his affection, anyway!

And she didn't hesitate any longer, bringing the ceremonial blade down on the tattooed, masked girl. She'd done it with so much force that she could feel stone at the tip of the blade. The sacrificed young cultist gripped the edge of the stone altar as she gasped and heaved her final breaths. It would be a slow death, however, without the blade removed.

"Very good. You've brought the Master great pleasure by doing this…" Ishtar said as she drew another blade from inside her robe. "Put out your hand."

Buttercup was ecstatic. What's next? Who cares? As long as she got to indulge in all this excitement! Obliging to her new friend's instructions, she removed her combat glove and put out her hand. The cultist proceeded to put a diagonal cut there in short order.

"Ouch!" Buttercup shouted. "Hey! What gives!"

"Shhh… This pain is temporary, but the pleasure you'll gain from the Master's promise will be infinite," the cultist said. She then proceeded to pick up a bowl on the altar. Kneeling down, she then positioned it below Buttercup's hand. She closed the enhanced little girl's hand for her and squeezed it gently. Blood was pouring into the bowl, and when enough of it was collected, the cultist returned to the sacrificial lamb on the altar and proceeded to make a slice on the dying teenager's jugular. Blood was spurting out, and the cultist made sure to collect an equal volume of the lamb's blood.

"What are you doing?" Buttercup asked, confused as to how bleeding her and a tattooed teenager would achieve anything. Looking at her with a mysterious smile, the cultist stirred the blood mixture with her index finger. The woman's eyes went down to the swirling blood, which had turned black, before flitting back up to Buttercup, whose mouth had gone agape when it was done.

"Drink this, shadowkin," the cultist commanded the enhanced little girl.

"Ewww! No way!" Buttercup was shocked. It was bad enough if she had to drink her own blood, but when it was mixed in with another girl's blood, turning black as a result? And in the sewers no less? "You're icky! Yuck! That's disgusting!"

The cultist woman simply stared at Buttercup, unblinking, unfeeling, the bowl still clutched tightly in her hand, held up to her.

"You are tired of living around people who understand you not. You hate being ordered to avoid satisfying your unique needs, and yet what few common needs you share with others are neglected. You dread living the life of a 'good little girl'. Do you want to go on like this? For years and years and years?" the golden-masked woman said.

"Blossom's letting me kill-" Buttercup said, but was interrupted quickly by a stranger who seemed to know her far too well.

"It will not last. Soon, you'll be back to being the 'perfect little angel' you're not if you're not punished harshly for doing what comes naturally to you first," the cultist went on. "Is that what you want? Because my Master - your powerful friend - has an alternative for you. He will give you what you want, as much as you want, to your heart's desire…"

Buttercup looked down at the bowl of blood. Her image was vaguely recognizable in it but blackened and distorted. She still felt disgusted over the idea of drinking blood, whether it was hers or another girl's, but it had never sounded more enticing than the way the golden-masked woman put it.

"You'll get to kill and bring justice to this world at the same time. He'll let you do whatever you want, for His vision is not as narrow and short-sighted as your 'father's," Ishtar continued whispering words of seduction to Buttercup. The enhanced little girl thought about it some more, but now, the thought of rejecting the bowl of blood had become unthinkable. The woman, who was an enemy she wanted to kill just ten minutes ago, was completely right. Buttercup couldn't think of an argument against her. Her life in her Dad's family was empty - like falling into one hole after the next, all the while hoping that the place she was going was a worthy destination, except that she remained unfulfilled all the while. The slim hope she held was more torture than comfort.

Buttercup brought the bowl of blood up to her face and tipped the content into her mouth, gulping down the blood mixture greedily with unnatural enthusiasm and gusto. The taste was terrible - it was like drinking metal, but there was something else - a texture and smell not of this world, so indescribable even to her senses that it shifted from one thing to another, at first clay-like and bitter, then burning and acidic in the next. But it didn't matter - she was doing it! She was taking the next step towards meeting a powerful friend! Hell, she felt good just by being rebellious!

Then the pain began to spread in Buttercup, starting from where the vile, bloody mixture had touched, then to the rest of her body. At first just a dull ache, it became stronger, then sharper. Buttercup fell to her knees and clutched her stomach as she tried to endure the agony. Her vision became red, and unknown to her, her eyes had gone red like Bubbles back when she had gone BerXerk. "What did you do to me!?"

"The shadow-blood you consumed will change you - just subtly and slightly," the woman explained. She'd gotten down to her knees too, holding Buttercup as a mother would just so that she wouldn't collapse on the floor entirely. "The Master will be able to sense you better from now on. He will be with you, always. If you're fortunate, he'll even converse with you soon, even bless you with certain… gifts. Oh, how I envy you!"

Buttercup could barely hear the cultist. Her vision had gone dark, and her limbs numb. The cultist lowered her to the floor, gently. And soon, even her mind had gone blank…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenements District. Tenements-Slums Border.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1249.**

Detective Mullens had to search from desk to desk to find Bubbles. She had run away so fast that he didn't catch where she had hidden in shame. The decommissioned utility office, however, was a small place, so it didn't take long for him to do it. Leaving a disappointed Olivia to pick up the pieces when it came to the evidence, he actually got down and sat next to Bubbles, nearly bumping his head on the old desk.

"How're you holding up, kid?" Mullens asked, genuinely concerned and asking himself if the Bubbles had relapsed.

"I'm sorry…" Bubbles simply repeated herself, unable to bring herself to look at Mullens or sit close to him.

"Ain't nothing to be sorry about," the old detective said. He moved himself closer to the enhanced kid and began checking her for needle marks. He had faith that Bubbles had remained clean, but he was damaged in that department by decades of repeated betrayals. He had to know for sure. "Here, let me see."

"I didn't do it…" Bubbles blurted out.

"I know, I know," Garrett cooed at the enhanced little girl. "I'm just concerned about you is all, missy." He had never been more gentle with anyone else than Bubbles. Pulling down her sleeve properly, he buttoned it as though her arm might fall off if he'd applied any real force. It was odd that she was wearing a sleeved set of uniforms. But the fact that it was wet with perspiration had told him everything. She was feeling withdrawal symptoms hard today for some reason, all the way from morning until now. The father had told him about her need to take watered-down His Secret as withdrawal medication. Thinking back to this, it'd explained everything.

"Have you taken your medication?" he asked. Bubbles didn't react immediately. Detective Mullens knew the look. She looked like she'd broken a glass in class like she was about to be asked to stand in a corner for the rest of it.

She shook her head after that. "I hate it."

"Take your meds, Bubs," the detective insisted. "It's for your own good."

"Hey, lieutenant!" Olivia yelled out to her father. Detective Mullens didn't like her calling him that, even though it was the professional thing for her to do. The old man popped back out of the desk, accidentally bumping his head on the old wood.

"Damn it," he winced as he straightened up, gasping when his back was giving him some trouble. "What is it?"

Olivia had been rooting around inside the crate that contained the drugs. She'd been digging into it with her hands. A combination of yellow hay and white styrofoam was billowing out of the wooden box. Stanley Talker had been sniffing around the room - what Olivia had tasked the talking dog with was a mystery to the old man.

"It's the drugs. I think we've overestimated the volume being trafficked here," Olivia said. When she was done making it snow around her, she got out of the crate and got up. In her hands were pieces of styrofoam boxes. "It's funny enough that there's only one crate, but what's funnier is this lonely boy's mostly empty. Stuffed with trash, mostly. The number of drugs here wouldn't be enough to supply even a small crack den."

"Ri don't smell ranything relse reither!" Stanley the talking dog barked from the far side of the room, which wasn't that far off, to begin with. As it turned out, Olivia had tasked him to sniff for hidden caches.

"That's all there is, then," Olivia said. Pulling her radio off her belt, she requested a status update on other narcotics teams, only to receive a negative on drug recovery from every one of them. "Why would the Cult of His Promise commit so many of its members and resources into a slim fraction of a crate?"

Detective Mullens watched Bubbles inject herself with watered-down His Secret as he thought about it. It was indeed a mystery. Even to a cult as big as the thousands-strong Cult of His Promise, splurging something like an estimated fifty members and twenty or so allied associates into what amounted to not even a quarter of a crate of drugs was counter-productive, even stupid and pointlessly suicidal in all respects. Except the cult was far smarter and craftier than that.

"Maybe these drugs are going to someone important?" Olivia suggested. "For some kingpin's personal use?"

"Nah, that can't be. After the Expositos' takedown, I don't think there's anyone left in the slums. The Gangreen Gang's next in line, but they don't play by the mafia's rules," Detective Mullens said.

"Bubbles? Buttercup? Where are you!?" another voice interrupted the discussion. It was coming from everyone's radio. Mullens picked his up.

"Blossom? What took you? I've been trying to reach you for a while!" the old detective spoke into the radio.

"The bad guys broke my walkie talkie," Blossom said over the radio. "I had to borrow your friend's."

"I'm fine…" Bubbles spoke into her radio to reassure her sister. There was a pause after that from Blossom's side. The leader of the Powerpuff Girls knew her sister all too well. "I'm really fine."

"Yeah, she's with us," Detective Mullens seconded Bubbles.

"But where's Buttercup?" Blossom replied after that.

Garrett and his daughter, Olivia, exchanged looks. Olivia shrugged her shoulders. He then turned to Stanley Talker, who started taking a few whiffs of the air.

"Rrr… Not around here," the talking dog said. The moment he was free of any duties, he'd gone to Bubbles, whining and licking her in the face in the hopes of making her feel better.

It would take another hour and the entirety of Detective Mullens' task force to find Buttercup. They would find her almost a mile away from the flashpoint of the police raid, passed out in some sewage hall.

As far as they knew, she was alone and unable to say what had happened. It was something for her to know and for the rest of them to find out; even the altar was gone and her eyes, while she was looking at them, was glowing green as it should be.


	80. Chapter 74: Homecoming (Part 1)

**Chapter 74: Homecoming (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Highway 13.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1844.**

Bunny roared down the highway towards home on her modified bike. The time had come. It was finally here. It was time to go back home. Initially, the plan had been for Bunny to return home in the morning, but Wiggum's betrayal in the early morning had necessitated a delay, first for the mission, then for the debriefing, and finally, for the worst part of Bunny's grief to pass, not that it ever would. She'd spent most of the day in her bunk, alone, conflicted and afraid of herself. Wiggum's final moments kept replaying in her mind, like the voice of her father recorded in the sound recorder he gave her.

'Wait… Please…' he'd pleaded with her. She was still debating with herself if she should have waited. Her training had jumped the gun immediately, because her objective was clear, leaving no room for hesitation. She'd stabbed him to death, all the while knowing that he was her Dad's friend. It'd complicated things, and she was way over her head.

Bunny would have stayed in her bunk longer had Nana, the closest person she had to a mother in the absence of Selicia, not come to fetch her. In the meantime, she'd screamed and cried into the void of her room, refusing to eat or drink and soiling herself in bed because she couldn't even will herself to go to the washroom.

As if things couldn't get any worse, Bunny would have to endure yet more changes. Nana had grown on her, and now she was leaving her. The woman had told her that while she showered and cleaned her, and the only comfort was that she would try to visit her occasionally, or perhaps they might meet again while prosecuting their duties. Bunny was a little dazed throughout, but she thought she might have seen Nana shed a tear or two. It was even harder that way, knowing that their separation was causing someone else some hardship.

A final debriefing with General Blackwater had set the stage for the future. Bunny would be working with Chief Intelligence Officer Rook in the future. He would be calling her through the USDO hotline, which was becoming known as the Powerpuff Hotline. If the recent turn of events were any indication, there would be many missions to follow, though the general had tried to reassure her that they wouldn't involve friends and family. The slaying of Wiggums was a fluke.

After making a turn on the highway and then going off it, Bunny found herself in a familiar place. She couldn't help but feel nostalgia even though she had been away only for three days. Four, counting the delay. Being only a week old, she had spent longer in the USDO than with her family. Things had changed drastically, even though the suburbs she was in hadn't.

For one thing, she was racing down the rows of houses in her own vehicle, under her own power. She was stopped at a USDO security checkpoint, and all she had to do was simply show them a black pass card and she was allowed through. She had done the same thing when a police patrol cruiser did the same. They didn't ask too many questions - in fact, they didn't ask anything at all.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1905.**

Professor Utonium had waited near the window for ages, doing nothing the whole day beyond the bare necessities that constituted his duties to the Girls and the USDO. Selicia had been supportive all the while, either staying with him or making sure that he didn't starve or thirst while he waited for Bunny.

As it was right now, all he could think about was Bunny, and what abuses she might have suffered. He could only imagine how it was like, and he couldn't imagine it well enough either, as he was neither a soldier nor a security officer. His training in the art of war was only basic, something to make it an inconvenience for the enemy to take him dead or alive. It kept running in his head how terrible it must be for a child to have to go through training that would bring some adults to tears.

Selicia, in the meantime, had just finished preparing dinner. They'd planned to leave it in the kitchen until eight or even nine if they had to, just to wait for Bunny - it'd meant so much to her Thomas. Buttercup, and Blossom (surprisingly), had helped her out, while Bubbles sat next to her Dad, leaning on him with his arm around her.

They didn't have to wait for long.

Soon, there was activity in the swirling snowfall, and light that didn't come from the streetlamps. A strange silhouette appeared at first, before being bathed in the yellowish street light. Although the professor could not see her face, which was blocked by a shaded motorcycle helmet, he recognized her instantly.

Bunny was turning into the driveway when the Girls scrambled to the window to see her.

"I can't believe it!" Buttercup grumbled, already unhappy that Bunny was coming back. She was a competition, but there was something more. "She gets a bike but we don't?"

"Yeah…" Blossom said, acknowledging that fact, though she had other things in mind too. The moment she saw Bunny, she was reminded of the jealousy she had towards her. How Bunny would take away Dad's attention from her, the attention that was well-deserved, alienating her. Even when she wasn't around, Dad had paid little attention to Blossom because he was too worried about Bunny, and whenever he talked, it was always something to do with Bunny.

"At least we got Bunny back," Bubbles said. The bike controversy was hardly anything worth mentioning to her. "I missed her. I wonder how she's doing?"

"Can't believe she gets a bike…" Buttercup continued grumbling. Like Blossom, she felt jealous, and even more so than her more level-headed sister. She wasn't even trying to bury it, unlike Blossom, who'd decided that sisters were sisters, and jealousy was wrong. "I want a bike too, but no, Daddy said no, of course…"

When Bunny turned in, it didn't help that she looked menacing in her biker jacket and helmet, the fully-modded MP5 on her back and her silenced pistol on her thigh. The parts of her armor that weren't covered by her jacket promised overwhelming odds to anyone who would think to go against her. The purple glow of her eyes was shining through the shaded visor. It was easy to feel negative things towards someone who looked dangerous - it was a justification Blossom and Buttercup could have, not that Blossom wanted it and Buttercup didn't need any to hate someone.

Upon seeing Bunny getting off and removing her duffel bag from the back of her bike, Professor Utonium got out the front door as soon as he could. Selicia was more level-headed and went into the garage to open the shutters for Bunny to wheel her bike in. The Girls hovered out to look, with Buttercup looking especially offended.

"Dad?" Bunny couldn't believe her eyes either when she saw Daddy running up to her. She lifted her visor - pulling off her helmet, in fact - before running up to him. Bunny dumped her duffel bag in the snow. They both threw themselves at each other, embracing in the snow. "Dad! I miss you so much!"

"So did I, Bunny, so did I!" the professor shouted in relief. Bubbles joined in the hug after that. Blossom followed, deciding to put aside her jealousy of Bunny. Buttercup remained where she was, however, floating above the uncomfortably cold ground, her arms crossed as she scowled at the returning Bunny. "I thought about you every day! I was so worried!"

"Me too…" Bunny said. The professor let go after that.

"Look at you, all grown up," the professor said. He hated that the general got to see her through four days of development without him, but Bunny was still his adopted daughter all the same. "Using pronouns now, riding a bike…"

"Are you proud of me, Dad?" Bunny asked. Looking up at him, she was crying not just tears of joy, but something darker. Her perfect memory was a curse now as she remembered how she killed her own Dad's friend just half a day ago. She waited desperately for his answer, even though she needed to wait only a second.

"I'll always be proud of you," he said. "You're my little rabbit, forever and always. Come on, let's get back inside - it's cold out there. Here, let me take your bike." The professor helped Bunny wheel her motorcycle in. The entire family was in the garage before Selicia closed the garage shutters.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1913.**

Bunny was eating through her spaghetti and mash potatoes like how a compactor would crush metal fed into it. Half her meal was gone in a minute - and that included her lemon juice. She had made a mess on her face and spilled some of the tomato sauce on the table. Everyone was looking at her, and they had barely touched their meals.

"Honey, slow down. You'll choke like this," Selicia had to tell her, at the same time pulling her back from her plate. It wasn't the first thing she or Professor Utonium had to remind her. She had sat down to her meal in full gear. The professor then had to remind her to remove her weapons. Selicia got her to remove her jacket and armor after that. The suit of purple, gutted (de)power(ed) armor had ended up standing guard at a corner of the kitchen with the duffel bag as if watching them.

"Sorry, Mom," Bunny apologized before haphazardly cleaning her face with a napkin. "I like your food, and I have to be ready."

"Ready for what?" the professor asked.

"I could be going on a mission any time," Bunny explained, after sucking up another long tendril of spaghetti, and chewing and swallowing quickly regardless. She had to wipe her mouth again. "There's going to be lots of them, General Blackwater said so."

"But don't you want to spend some time with your family? You've just gotten back, and I thought you'll be thrilled to do that?" the professor asked. He didn't like this one bit. The last time he'd seen Bunny, she was content with simply being. What he saw was a change of priorities in Bunny, and he didn't like it.

Bunny, in the meantime, had nearly finished her spaghetti by the time the professor was done. She looked up at her Dad when she was distracted from the zone by what he said.

"Yes, Dad, of course, I am," she said. The professor couldn't help but notice that her ability to speak was dramatically improved too, and it wasn't just the pronouns. From what Selicia had told him, Bunny was just a few hours shy of training twenty-four hours a day, and some of that time could have been used to develop her communications ability - for once, it was something he agreed with when it came to the USDO. "I just… need to be ready. I'm supposed to protect you, and Mom… and Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup too."

The professor laughed. Selicia followed. Blossom frowned at Bunny, but reset it to a smile when Bunny turned to look at her.

"Yes, you do," he said with a smile, though he didn't really think much of it. To him, it was just Bunny's youthful spontaneity and optimism at work. The USDO would surely be sending her to missions like how they'd been using Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, but he doubted that Bunny would ever need to protect her family, not with the older Three in The House, and the adults already trained and given a security detail for protection. Blossom had protected him - even if it was against Bubbles, and the gap between the older and the younger enhanced beings was huge. That said, he still couldn't believe that millions of adults were relying on little girls for protection - and it hadn't even been six months since their creation.

"I'm proud of you, my little Sugar-Bun," Selicia said, then pulled Bunny in for a hug. It'd reminded the enhanced girl of how it felt like. She didn't let go until she had her fill of it. "You're growing up so fast!" In the meantime, Buttercup was sulking in her corner of the table, and the fact that no one noticed made her even mad. The only thing keeping her from flipping the table and assaulting Bunny then and there was that it would be social suicide, something she had actually committed multiple times before and miraculously survived.

It was something she couldn't afford right now, at least not until she'd met her new powerful friend.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1949.**

Everything that Bunny did, every action that Dad took was, all of a sudden, grating on Blossom's nerves. Blossom thought that Bunny had become an attention-seeker, what with her bike, her refusal to remove her equipment, right down to the way she ate and behaved. Dad, on the other hand, hadn't paid much attention to her whether Bunny was home or not, and now that Bunny was with them, it was even worse. He had become entirely fixated on her.

Dad and Mom had to separate the Girls when it came to bathing. With Bunny in the picture, the bathtub simply couldn't fit all of them, and a single parent wouldn't be able to handle them all. Dad chose to bathe Bunny, and Blossom, who was seething with secret anger, chose Mom out of spite, only to regret it. Buttercup had followed her, leaving Bubbles with Dad and Bunny.

'But I can bathe myself!' the attention-seeking Bunny had exclaimed. That show-off! Blossom knew exactly what Bunny was doing. As if having Dad's undivided attention wasn't enough, Blossom knew that Bunny was trying to cement her place as the only Girl Dad would care about, leaving no room at all for her - or her sisters for that matter.

"How about for old time's sake? You're only a week old, Rabbit," the professor had said in response. The term of endearing had actually hit Bunny hard, as it reminded her of her deceased and eaten pet rabbit, but as a master of subtlety by then, she'd hidden it well.

"Sure," Bunny smiled.

In the other bathroom of the second floor, Selicia had ended up giving Blossom the roughest bath she had ever received, though Blossom couldn't tell if it was intentional. The security officer had chosen to use the hardest, roughest sponge in the washroom, and was applying a lot of force whenever she was scrubbing her down and rinsing her hair that it was downright painful. That, and she had rushed through Blossom's bath, quickly shooing her out of the bathtub to focus on Buttercup, callously throwing her the towel and leaving her there, cold and wet, to dry herself. Blossom barely knew how, and she could feel intensely the neglect her Mom was putting her through.

Blossom had spent some time moping while drying herself sluggishly as she sat, upset, on a stool, all the while watching Buttercup having a fun time with Mom as they played with the water and joked and laughed.

Feeling left out, Blossom did not want to watch any further, so she threw on her undergarments and dress on by herself - with some difficulty - before opening the bathroom door. She took one last look at Mom and Buttercup. They didn't even notice her leaving. They didn't even care. And so Blossom walked away.

Out in the corridor, she saw Dad leaving the common bathroom with Bunny and Bubbles in fresh pairs of dresses, chatting happily about - why, about Bunny's experience in training, of course! What else could they possibly be talking about?

"Oh hey, Blossom! Why didn't you join me for a shower?" Bunny had the nerve to ask Blossom. "I've really missed you."

'Of course, she'd want me with her - it'd make it easier to show Dad how much better she was!' Blossom thought venomously as she tried her best not to give her youngest sister the stink-eye. She'd flashed a smile, though it was so hard to pull off that her face might crack from the effort.

"But that'd mean I can't join you for a shower," Bubbles said, half-parroting Bunny already. Blossom hated it.

"Oh yeah," Bunny said, on realizing what Bubbles pointed out. "Well, I've really missed all of you! I'm so happy to be back home!"

'Of course, you would be', was Blossom's reaction, though she didn't let it be known.

"Why don't the two of you go on ahead - Bunny and I have some catching up to do. Don't worry, she'll be playing with the two of you soon enough!" the Dad would say with a laugh, before bringing Bunny down the stairs with him, leaving Blossom outside her room and on the verge of tears. Bubbles simply held her hand and led her back into her room, just as oblivious to Blossom's feelings.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1954.**

Professor Utonium ended upbringing Bunny down to the labs for a checkup. In between lab tests and interviews, they were both playing catch-up with each other. The professor had learned, however, that there were things that were off-limits. 'It's classified,' Bunny would say to such inquiries.

"Can we just… be together?" Bunny had requested when everything was said and done when it came to her checkup.

"Don't you want to show me your voice recordings?" the professor asked. To him, it was an informal project, something he'd be more than happy to go through, not just out of his own curiosity both scientific and mundane, but also out of love for Bunny: for three days, he was unable to fulfill his role as a father, and he'd wanted to make up for it.

"I just want to be with you, Dad. I've missed you so much and… I just want to spend some time with you?" Bunny had said instead. The professor couldn't refuse her. How could he? When she had sacrificed so much just because she had the fortune or misfortune of being created artificially and biochemically enhanced?

They'd ended up sitting together while Daddy worked on his computer, with Bunny leaning on him, or hugging him once in a while, asking questions occasionally. The professor enjoyed every second of it, such that all his worries about her time in the USDO headquarters had evaporated. He enjoyed learning how far Bunny had come in her development - and she was developing really, really fast. Faster than even Blossom, in fact.

Time flew by, and while Dad and Bunny were enjoying each other's company down in the labs, Blossom was left in her room with Bubbles and Buttercup, and they were all playing halfheartedly, as each of them was haunted with their own demons and ghosts. Blossom had still her own perceived failings in the raid on the cultists to deal with, and the only man who would listen to her was busy with some other Girl. This was not to mention the jealousy in her swelling to proportions she had never felt before.

Bubbles, on the other hand, was still coming to terms with her close shave when it came to her drug problem. Like Blossom, she missed being able to talk to Dad about anything, but unlike her, she wished she could play with Bunny immediately. After Bunny was born, she wasn't able to really get to know her, and she was anxious to get started.

Buttercup, on the other hand, was having a bit of an epiphany as she was clutching Blankie closely to her while flipping through a stack of word cards. None of it mattered - not Blossom or Bubbles, not even Dad, and not the social norms they enforced. Mom had become the only thing in the family she remotely even cared about. Only one thing mattered now: her desires, and that included her need to meet the powerful friend she had never met before. No, it was worse than that, for try as she might, she couldn't dissociate herself from it all. She had expected nothing but neglect from her sisters, and that was fine. The disappointment had come from elsewhere. Dad had failed to provide her with what she needed, and even Mom was guilty of this, as she should've been able to intercede on her behalf, except she didn't.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 2047.**

It was an hour before Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup finally had the pleasure of seeing Dad and Bunny walked through the door of their room. The Girls hadn't been very busy in that hour, and it was only in the latter half of it that they had finally gotten back together to appreciate the little things - beating the hardcore criminals of the city and genuinely cleaning it up (though Bubbles still had reservations about killing some of them), and being the thing that drove the Amoeba Boys towards the path of goodness. Of course, they were things they had to keep secret from Dad.

They were talking over their building blocks when their youngest sister came in, hugging her shiny and purple cutting-edge armor and hauling a huge duffel bag full of equipment into the room. How Bunny could have balanced the bag on her motorcycle was a mystery to the elder Girls, who had never ridden bikes before.

Blossom and Buttercup were trying very hard not to scowl at her, resisting open hostilities with Bunny for some very different reasons. Bubbles, on the other hand, was all natural with her smile. To Blossom, it was all about the family, and doing the right thing by them. To Buttercup, a family had become an undesirable thing, and the only reason why she was staying was Mom; having a new member was only going to add to her woes.

"Hello, Girls," the professor greeted his original three. "How about the three of you welcome your little sister to your den?" Little sister. Blossom thought it funny, considering Bunny's size. She was more than a head taller than they were, owing to her physical age and luck of the draw - whoever gave Bunny his or her DNA must surely be a huge, hulking guy or girl.

"Aren't you going to spend some time with us?" Blossom asked Dad, and while she was at it, she couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice, nor the smile up.

"I'm going to have to take a bath," the professor said, having never seen Blossom's reaction, only heard it. He thought her reaction was normal; Blossom liked him very much, and she couldn't be left alone for even a minute without missing him. "I'll be right back in, oh, maybe half an hour."

He still had Selicia to tend to. She tended to desire him at night, and he didn't mind helping her out with that. With Bunny now on board, time would be an even bigger premium… but the emotional rollercoaster he'd been through had taxed him more. He needed to get away, even if it was just for half an hour.

With that, the Girls were left alone with Bunny, who had decided to leave her armor standing like an honor guard right next to the walk-in closet. Blossom thought that Bunny was a big show-off for doing that, though in reality, Bunny had looked into the closet and decided that there was not enough space between the Powerpuff Girls' crate of weapons and their uniforms and gear.

"Come on, Bunny, join us!" Bubbles was the first to offer her a place beside them. "We're having lots of fun making a tower!" And failing, apparently, as it'd come crumbling down several times in the twenty minutes they were at it.

"Yeah, why don't you join us?" Blossom added, though not quite concurring with Bubbles. With Blossom, it wasn't an invitation. She wanted to weigh Bunny out - then assert herself. There was no way she was going to let Bunny take the lead away from her. No, it couldn't be that way. She had always been the smart one, and therefore the most deserving of the attention of a smart Dad.

"I really miss you guys!" Bunny said while scooting over and sitting herself down on the floor next to Bubbles, who welcomed her wholeheartedly by giving her a hug. "I thought about the three of you all the time while I was training…"

After clearing the debris of their last failure, the Girls started all over again, this time with Bunny's help.

"How was training like? Is it as scary as it sounds?" Bubbles asked. Blossom gave a stealthy sigh. Buttercup gave Bubbles a quick glare; she hated even how Bubbles sounded like.

"It was hard, really hard. I had to do some terrible things, but it could be fun sometimes," Bunny reminisced on her time in the USDO headquarters, and it was more nostalgic that she thought it would be. She was helping her elder sisters with the foundations of their tower at the same time. They had arranged the pillars on the ground floor roughly, putting one in each corner. Bunny thought it would be safer if she added twice the number, with some were arranged inside the box of pillars. It was better to be safe than sorry - that was one thing she learned during her training, no matter what the subject matter was.

"I'm going to protect all of you," Bunny said unexpected as they continued building their tower. The three elder Girls, in particular, had lots of inspiration to draw from, considering the number of skyscrapers they'd been visiting in recent weeks.

"I think we should be protecting you instead," Blossom said. Had she not been concentrating on building her tower, irritation would have risen in her voice, thinly veiled. Dad had bought them more wooden blocks to play with and Blossom was eager to see what she could do with quadruple the number of materials - but in truth, it represented the height of the amount of attention her Dad had been giving her since Bunny came into the picture.

"But isn't she supposed to fight crime instead of us now?" Bubbles reminded the quartet of them. "That's what Dad said. I'm tired of all the-"

"Not right now, Bubbles!" Blossom interrupted her, annoyed at her mildly-mannered sister's timing. At this moment, she had accidentally knocked off a foundation block for the third floor of their tower. It would have crumbled down and taken the entire thing with it had it not been for Bunny's intervention. Within the space of milliseconds, she'd propped up the structure with a finger, keeping it steady while Bubbles replaced the pillar Blossom had accidentally demolished.

Blossom didn't like that one bit. It'd made her look bad.

"General Blackwater said that I can't do it all for the three of you yet…" Bunny said to her sisters. "As much as I want to. He said I'm too 'inexperienced' to do that."

"You should listen to him," Blossom told her blatantly, just barely holding back her disdain for what she perceived to be arrogance and disrespect in Bunny. "You can't protect us, Bunny."

"Yes, I can," Bunny said stubbornly. Buttercup snorted at her, laughing at the altercation. If nothing else, it was free entertainment for her. "I want to."

"Can you fly?" Blossom asked with a straight face, crossing her arms.

"No…" Bunny said.

"Can you shoot a heat beam with your eyes?" Blossom pressed the youngest of them all.

"I can't, but-"

"What about lasers like Buttercup?" Blossom continued to drill into Bunny. Buttercup relished being recognized.

"No, But Blossom-" Bunny tried to speak.

"Can you do a sonic scream like Bubbles, then?" Blossom continued to pile on Bunny's inabilities.

"No…" Bunny said, feeling discouraged as she looked down at the tower and away from Blossom. Blossom couldn't help but smirk at her.

"What about a bubble to block bullets?" Blossom pursued Bunny relentlessly.

Bunny shook her head, unable to even speak anymore, upset by the revelation that, for all her training, she was still inferior compared to her sisters, as Blossom pointed out.

"Blossom, you're not being fair to her!" Bubbles couldn't help but exclaim at the injustice she saw. "You couldn't make a bubble until today and I taught you that!"

Blossom turned around quite suddenly to glare at Bubbles. She looked so angry, Bubbles was actually considering making a an energy shield bubble pre-emptively to avoid getting singed by her infrared beam. To Blossom, this was betrayal of the worst kind; she'd forgiven Bubbles for harming her entire family, taught her many things that they had been taking for granted (such as flying). She'd never faltered in her support for her. Bubbles was being unfair! Mean!

"Yeah, and I taught you how to fly!" Blossom exploded. "I protected you out there when all you knew was how to cry like a baby!"

"I didn't mean-" Bubbles tried to defuse the situation; her attempt was cut short. She knew what was coming when Blossom started digging up her past faults.

"Shut up! At least I didn't hurt Daddy like you did!" Blossom shot back at Bubbles, not with a heat beam but with words that were worse. Furious and losing control with herself, Blossom shot up to her feet and kicked their tower with a manic shout, sending the wooden blocks scattering all over Bunny. Feeling all kinds of strong emotions all at once, an overwhelming sensation that she still wasn't used to, Blossom ran away and swiftly got out through the door.

Bubbles had gasped upon hearing Blossom's all-too-true accusation, what was fast becoming a taboo subject. Bunny had wanted to cry, too. She didn't expect Blossom to treat her so badly as to throw wooden blocks at her, but seeing Bubbles so devastated had spurred her into action. But what was so frustrating was that all she could do was to hold her closely and hope for the best.

"What was that about?" Bunny asked Bubbles, who was still too busy fighting back tears to give any kind of coherent answers. Bunny, on the other hand, was shocked beyond belief; she'd never imagined her sisters would be like this when she first laid eyes on them, back when she still had trouble deciphering their words.

"It's a long story. A big yawn I don't wanna talk about," Buttercup said nonchalantly. She had been watching and she did not care enough to intervene. If she had popcorn to begin with, she would have eaten through the whole bucket in a matter of minutes. When the show's over, however, she got up to leave Bubbles and Bunny alone when it became too boring to watch.

* * *

A/N: Decided to stick this down here to avoid ruining the reading experience. Boy, editing this was a tough one! I had to delay the release of this piece by a couple of days because I just couldn't get it right. If you guys have any feedback and suggestion on how to improve this chapter, let me know! Stay nice and awesome, and happy impending new year!


	81. Chapter 75: Homecoming (Part 2)

**Reply to Guest: Well, that's assuming Buttercup gets another medical examination. Either way, there's plenty of drama to be had. Funny you should mention that the name 'USDO' would be obsolete... very interesting indeed :) But I guess I just love to troll my readers sometimes. You never know.**

**A/N: Anyway, happy new year guys! (GMT +8) This is the last chapter I'll be posting for 2019!**

* * *

**Chapter 75: Homecoming (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 2102.**

The doorbell chimed. Then again, and again. It'd chimed for a minute or two while Professor Utonium and Selicia had to scramble out of their room and down the stairs, still trying to throw on whatever fresh clothes they could get their hands on in haste.

"Who could it be in the middle of the night?" Professor Utonium uttered in open wonderment.

"At least we know for sure it isn't some dictionary salesman," Selicia commented.

"I'd rather have a dictionary salesman at this point," the professor said. The answer was instantly recognizable when he opened the door to a huge man taking up much of the door's dimensions. General Blackwater, except he was dressed in his general's uniform rather than the usual SWAT gear he was found in most of the time. To the professor, who had known the man for many years even if much of their relationship was characterized by cold hostility, constant disagreement, and reluctant cooperation, it was very uncharacteristic of the man, who tended to be very practical with everything he did, right down to his attire. Now, he was decorated in a uniform with shoulder marks denoting his rank, award bands, of which there were many, decorating one half of his chest and all sorts of silver insignias pinned on his collars. The formal uniform of the USDO was of a shade of dark gray, something which the professor never liked. It'd reminded him of the confederates from the civil war from whom the Foundation could trace its ancestry to.

"Professor Utonium," the huge man greeted the relatively smaller one.

"What are you doing here this time?" the professor 'greeted' the general cautiously. General Blackwater took off his beret. He was searching behind the professor for… something.

"I'm here to check in with Bunny. I want to know how she's been settling in," the general declared his intentions openly. "And while I'm at it, I will be briefing the Girls in person."

"Briefing them on what, sir?" Selicia asked. She was still buttoning up her shirt, a small detail the general caught, and it'd teased nothing but a frown from him.

"Now wait just a second," the professor insisted on stubbornly standing in the way of the general when he tried to get into the house. The general had stayed out, which was another unusual move; generally, he'd get his way, whether by the force of his authority or his muscles. "Just what the hell is going on, Blackwater? Why do you even care if Bunny's settling in at home? You sure didn't give an atom about Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup when they first moved in!"

"I'm not sure if you're even aware of this," the general said whilst pointing fingers at the professor. "But 'your' Bunny is now a full-fledged soldier, promoted to private at the end of her training. Did you know that?"

"No, but-"

"No? I guess that speaks volumes about how good a father you are," the general accused before giving the professor the benefit of his answer.

"Says the man who canceled my Girls' psychiatric session today," the professor countered. "It was supposed to be Bunny's first."

"Bunny does not need a shrink. Everything she needs is right here. She's my soldier, my responsibility. I don't know what you think is going on, Utonium."

With that, General Blackwater forced his way into The House, shoving the professor aside. At the same time, Blossom was running down the stairs, towards Dad and Mom, looking rather troubled. It was the worst time possible to be troubled.

"Blossom, go up to your room!" the professor said, pointing her back up the stairs.

"But Dad, I really need to talk to you!" Blossom protested, looking worst after being turned away - again.

"General Blackwater wants to talk to you first. All of you," the professor explained, his voice lowered, but Blossom could hear him well because of her sharp ears, second only to Buttercup.

"But I really need-" Blossom insisted, and the professor insisted harder:

"Go up to your room, Blossom!" the professor raised his voice at her. The look on her face made him regret it, but there was nothing he could say as she'd already flown away, back to her room. Although it was Blackwater who'd unbalanced him, he could only blame himself for his mistake. He soon found himself on the couch, with Selicia beside him.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 2106.**

When Blossom returned to her room, she had to face up to what she had done. Both Bubbles and Bunny were looking at her like she was a car accident, while Buttercup was sitting in their bed, snacking on nuts meant for a tea party that never came into fruition while she continued to watch with an unsightly smirk on her face.

Seeing Bubbles cracking under what she had said minutes ago had melted her. Bunny was still holding her, and she was crying into her shoulder.

"Bubbles… I- I didn't mean it. I was just mad and- I'm sorry," Blossom apologized, knowing full well that it wasn't the first time she'd had a little accident with her anger problem.

"But why were you mad? I was just trying to- trying to-" Bubbles cried, still trying to snatch up elusive words. "I thought it's what you want? Us sisters together? Shouldn't that include Bunny?"

"Yes, but- I-" Blossom tried to come up with something, anything. But it was hard to do so when she knew she was in the wrong. Yet at the same time, her contempt for Bunny and anger at her apparent arrogance hadn't left her.

"I'm sorry, Blossom," Bunny apologized, even though she didn't quite understand what she had done. "I won't do it again."

Blossom stared at the brunette, trying to read her.

"But you didn't do anything…" Bubbles cried, her voice muffled as she continued to cry into Bunny's shoulder. At first, Blossom was glaring down at Bunny, seething mad, but her demeanor began to soften, surprisingly. Even she didn't want things to turn out the way it did. It hadn't been her intention. Things just went out of hand, and her anger got the better of her.

Blossom sighed. "I'm… sorry too. I just…" an excuse eluded her, for all her 'superior' intelligence. But rescue came from the unlikeliest of source. The door leading into the Girls' room opened and in stepped General Blackwater. Bunny shot up to her feet, standing at attention. The others turned around, surprised to see him.

"At ease, private," the general ordered Bunny to stand down. "Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup… and Bunny. We need to talk."

"It's good to see you, sir," Bunny greeted the general enthusiastically. Next to the disappointing and harsh encounter with her sisters, the general was a huge relief, a warrior angel even before she returned to her family. At the very least, Blossom was too confused by Bunny's demeanor towards General Blackwater to be mad at her for being, essentially, a suck-up. The elder trio had always been afraid of him and informal in his presence due to their lack of military training. It didn't sit right with Blossom because of that.

"How are you settling in, Bunny?" the general asked the youngest of the quartet first."Is everything alright?"

He could sense that something was in the air, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it - his aptitude in parenting had undergone a slow decay over the years, with his own children grown up a long time ago, even his grandchildren too, not that he'd spent much time with them. There was a kind of smell in the air, and the Girls didn't look right to him, as if they were hiding some dirt under their carpet, and the kind of dirt wasn't very obvious.

"Y-yes, General Blackwater," Bunny answered simply that it seemed suspicious. The general knew her well enough to know that something wasn't right. Blossom rolled her eyes at the way Bunny addressed the general. 'Teacher's pet' was the closest term she would use to describe Bunny, even though Blossom herself had been suffering from the term in Miss Keane's class.

"Right. Now…" the general decided to let it slip regardless, as it didn't seem like something worth pursuing. "First order of business. Blossom, I'm promoting you to lieutenant."

"But… What does that mean?" the leader of the Powerpuff Girls asked, confused by the term. Bunny thought her lack of knowledge in military tradition was peculiar, but she didn't mention it out of both fear of Blossom's reprisal and respect for the general.

"It means that I'm making it official that you're a leader," General Blackwater explained.

"You are?" Blossom was surprised. She stood up when the general was pulling something out of his pocket. A batch of rank patches. He picked several from the selection and handed them to Blossom.

"Provisional lieutenant, just so we're clear," the general clarified. "Do you know what that means or do I have to school you again?"

"Pro…visional?" Blossom wondered about the meaning of the word.

"It means you'll have no authority over anyone or anything other than your unit - in your case, The Powerpuff Girls," General Blackwater explained, then grumbled in a low voice, mostly keeping it to himself: "That team name still sounds stupid." Buttercup could hear it very well owing to her enhanced hearing, and she secretly agreed.

"That includes Bunny. As for the two of you…" the general went on, before dispensing the other rank patches to Bubbles and Buttercup. "Congratulations, you're now both privates."

"The same as Bunny? Seriously?" Buttercup complained, attraction a sideways glare from the general, which was so fierce that it'd made her thought twice about her comment.

"Now listen here, the three of you!" General Blackwater bellowed all of a sudden, making the Girls, including Bunny, jump. "I know the three of you don't think too highly of the newest addition to your team-"

"That's not true…" Bubbles mumbled. The general was just a hair-trigger away from giving her a smack in the face when she interrupted him, but he merely went on:

"-But she is a part of your unit - your family now. I'm sure even your father will agree with that," the general went on. "That leads me to my next point. The three of you will train Bunny to use her powers. I want flight capability and ranged attacks within a few days. Is that understood?"

"Yes…" the Girls echoed their reply one after the other, almost simultaneously, with their heads bowed in submission.

"Very good," the general praised them emptily. "Now Bunny might be young, but she has already achieved great things under my training program. In fact, I'd say that she might even have greater potential than the three of you when it comes to law enforcement." In other words, the general was basically saying that Bunny was better than the three of them. It'd incensed Blossom the most, vacating her mind of all thoughts of coming back together with Bunny. "Any questions?"

"No…" the elder Girls said in unison. Blossom's face was practically twitching by this point.

"Well, at least the three of you have learned when to shut up. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to speak to Bunny alone. Bunny?" the general gestured for the youngest of the quartet to follow him out the door. She obeyed without question.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 2124.**

General Blackwater had taken some time to speak to Bunny, more so than the kind of time he'd spend in The House otherwise. Even the professor knew it: the general wasn't behaving the same way he used to, though the reason was beyond him, though he theorized that it could just be time doing its work on a mere human being.

When the huge man was finally descending down the stairs, with Bunny watching from above, the professor could almost breathe a sigh of relief. Almost. He didn't like having the general over, not after what he'd done to Bunny, and what he might have done to her. Just when he was ready to let bygones be bygones, like water under the bridge and all that.

Without even acknowledging Professor Utonium or Selicia beside him, the general went for the door before stopping when he was nearly there. He turned around.

"By the way, professor, Wiggums is dead. I just thought I should inform you out of courtesy," the general said in a rather cold and unfeeling manner. The professor didn't expect any empathy from the general, but neither did he expect the news. It'd hit him like a brick, and he could feel it in his knees; it was a miracle that the professor could still stand. "He was trying to defect to the FBI, for the lack of a better term, and was executed on charges of treason, dereliction of duty, abandoning his post, attempted dissemination of top-secret data and the endangerment of USDO agents."

With that, the general left, slamming the front door shut behind him. Professor Utonium went to the glass door overlooking the backyard after that, just staring out, just thinking. Just being shell-shocked. He lit his pipe and began smoking it. Selicia hugged him from behind when she noticed that he was distressed. Well, more distressed than usual. She kissed him in the back of his neck. The professor held her caring arms with his free hand. They stayed that way for a while before there was anything verbal being exchanged between them.

"I called him a worm the last time I spoke to him. A cowardly worm who's afraid of the light. I said that that would be an insult to worms," the professor finally said, his voice shaking with so much emotion. Selicia tightened her hug. "He died with that in his head and I know he was trying to do something for the Girls and he died-"

"Thomas, stop," Selicia comforted her other half. "It's not your fault he died. You couldn't have known he would have. You were just trying to help Bunny as a father should, and you were mad that you couldn't. You're the nicest, kindest man I ever know… surrounded by terrible people. It's not your fault."

"We were friends for eight years. Nine years, now. He's a smart man, could've… been my equal in the sciences but he chose supply chain management. I kept bouncing ideas off of him right from the start, and he listened… back when no one believed in me, not even half the damned science team. In a way, the Girls owed their creation to him. They owed a lot to him - he was there every step of the way for them, even when they didn't know it most of the time. Curse of being in logistics, I guess. You get taken for granted."

"Oh, Thomas…" Selicia said and wished she could say more. The professor succumbed to tears fully after that, and the two hugged. Meanwhile, Bunny was still sitting at the stairs, and she'd heard every word her Daddy had said. Even peeked at them a few times. It was easy to spy on them when her adoptive parents were so emotionally affected. Before they could see her there, however, she'd gone back up to her room, where her sisters were waiting.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 2129.**

When Bunny was back in the Girls' room, Bubbles was suspiciously quick to take her by the arm and lead her out of the room again. Bunny, however, was trained to be observant, and she knew why her sweetest and kindest sister (by far) would do this - it was all in the eyes of Blossom and Buttercup, who looked nearly identical in their glares and crossed arms that had it not been for the color of their hair, eyes, dresses, and skin, they would have been indistinguishable.

Bubbles dragged Bunny to the balcony on the second floor. She had floated along the way to make it easier, but it had also worked to hold Bunny's attention as she had always wanted to be able to hover and fly like her elder sisters.

"Bubbles, what's going on?" Bunny asked one of her three elder sisters. She was beginning to like her more than the others. To her, Bubbles was the picture in her mind when she thought of sweetness, kindness, and love - right up there and next to Dad.

"Blossom and Buttercup are mad at you," Bubbles whimpered. The two most timid of the quartet looked out into the Suburban horizon, filled with snow, streetlamps and similar houses. Out in the corner, the husband and father of their only neighboring family, Mister Smith, had practically run back into his house upon noticing them. "You should give them some time to cool off. It's what I do when they're mad."

"Why did Blossom yell at you?" Bunny asked, finding it unthinkable that she was shaking in fear of the most extroverted of her sisters. "She wasn't like that before…"

"It's my fault… I did something bad. I was a bad girl," Bubbles admitted, and then and there, she told Bunny the story of how she nearly killed Dad and Blossom, just to get herself her next fix of His Secret 2.0.

Bunny could empathize. Bubbles might not know, but the youngest of the quartet knew that she wasn't the only one to have hurt Dad. She had yet to tell anyone, but it was something she would like to keep that way. She couldn't imagine what Dad would do - what her other sisters would do if they found out.

"You're not a bad girl…" Bunny tried her best to cheer Bubbles up. "You're nice to me. But Blossom…" she couldn't believe she was about to talk about Blossom this way. She knew what tough love was, but it didn't seem to connect that way to Bunny. General Blackwater had hurt her to teach her, but Blossom had gone off without a reason. "Blossom's being mean to you and me. She's the one being bad."

"Don't talk about Blossom that way," Bubbles snapped at Bunny, but gently, more worried about Bunny than angry. She didn't want the relationship between Blossom and Bunny to go down that road right from the start. "She's really, really nice. Well, usually. She just gets really angry sometimes."

"I guess things will be better tomorrow…" Bunny muttered lowly, as if afraid that saying it too loudly might jinx it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 2203.**

To let Blossom cool off, Bubbles and Bunny had steered clear of their room for the past half hour, instead of spending some time in Mom's gym instead. Although the room wasn't exactly built for comfort, they were able to nest themselves in a cozy space between two machines. Bubbles would teach Bunny all sorts of hand games - clapping games and concentration games - and it was surprisingly fun and Bunny couldn't believe that so much could be had without toys or equipment. The closest analogy to this she had was empty-handed martial arts. One does not need a weapon to do damage - especially when it came to Girls like them.

They would have kept going. They were having so much fun that half an hour had gone by like five minutes. The only reason they'd stopped was because of Dad, who'd called for bedtime the moment he found them in the gym.

"There you are! Awww, isn't that sweet? The two of you are already so close!" the professor would praise them while Bubbles leaped into his arms. Bunny, however, was keeping her distance for some reason, something that didn't go unnoticed.

"What's wrong, honey?" he asked with a worried tone in his voice; Wiggum's death and Bunny's abuse at the hands of General Blackwater were still fresh on his mind. "You can come closer you know, I don't bite."

Reluctantly, Bunny came up next to him, and after shifting Bubbles to his left arm, the professor put his arm around Bunny and pulled her up next to him while they were walking towards their room. He could feel resistance, but it didn't last very long. He simply laughed. "Aren't you the shy one. Looks like someone's stealing your job, Bubbles." Both he and Bubbles laughed at that, and Bunny followed along, albeit nervously.

At bedtime, Bunny and Blossom were lying down in bed next to each other. Both of them found it awkward, and Blossom had to resist pushing her away really hard. It didn't last by some miracle, however, and that miracle was Professor Utonium.

After switching off all the lights except the table lamp, fetching a book from the kids' library along the way, he'd sat down and opened the book and read to them a very interesting story, unlike the others.

It was the Greek mythological story of how Icarus and his father, Daedalus, came to be stuck in the latter's labyrinth of his own making, all to appease the tyrannical King Minos, who threw him into the inescapable maze with a murderous Minotaur for his troubles. After much misadventure and false starts, the father had crafted wings for both of them to escape…

It was a long book, despite being the story being rewritten for a young audience. After all the reading, questions and interruptions, Bubbles and Blossom were already drifting off, while Buttercup hadn't even been listening, and was just trying to get some sleep whilst tolerating the storytelling. That left Bunny wondering. The story seemed familiar somehow, even though she had never heard it before. Her escape into a fictional world, however, didn't last as her worries were too great.

"Dad, am I like Icarus?" Bunny asked. She saw herself in the teenage boy. In the refashioned story, there were scenes showing the familial love between the two Greeks, how they comforted each other as they tried to come to terms with King Minos' betrayal and the Minotaur's threat, how they worked together to build their feather-and-wax wings.

The professor had to sit for a moment and think about it. Bunny thought it strange that he had to.

"Yes, yes you are," the professor finally said, before planting a kiss on her forehead. "Welcome back, Bunny." But there was more he had to say, and he wasn't sure how to say it. He had to sink back down to his chair for a minute to think.

"Girls…" he started, and now even the drowsiest of the Girls were awake enough to wonder what he was thinking. "I'm sorry I'm not a better father."

"But you are," Bunny was the first to defend him, though she wasn't sure who Dad was talking to. She assumed it was all of them.

"Will you spend more time with us?" Blossom took the opportunity to ask.

"Yes. I'd love that very much. I've just been-" the professor went on, but he couldn't go on because his rambling had taken him on a difficult tangent. "I've been selfish."

"You're not, Dad," Bubbles said. "Stop saying things like that. You're the best Daddy in the whole world."

"Yeah, you were there when I need you," Bunny added, to which the Dad laughed.

"Well, I wish I could be there more, but I guess the past is past," the professor said, thinking that Bunny had got to be the most forgiving Girl of the lot, right next to Bubbles. Blossom and Buttercup wouldn't have let him off the hook so easily, he reckoned. Without knowing it, he'd reckoned right, as even now, both of them were resenting him in some way. "Well, from tomorrow onwards, I'm spending more time with the four of you."

"Thanks, Dad," Blossom said.

"Alright, I think I've rambled like an old man long enough. Good night Girls," the professor said before switching off the table lamp and leaving, remembering to leave the door open for the timid Bubbles, so that it wouldn't be totally dark.

Bubbles, being exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the day, had fallen fast asleep within minutes. Had it not been for Blossom, Bunny would have followed:

"Hey Bunny," Blossom addressed her younger sister.

"Yes, lieutenant?" Bunny acknowledged Blossom. It was then that they both realized that they hadn't really introduced themselves to each other properly, on equal terms, ever since the former had returned from training a more mentally fully-formed Girl.

"Can you not call me that?" Blossom said, a little irritated by the new term, which she didn't quite like as it was too formal, and it'd reminded her of General Blackwater, whom she couldn't really like because of their history and the distance between them.

"Yes, ma'am," Bunny corrected herself.

"Just Blossom will do," Blossom said, a little exasperated.

"Sorry, Blossom," Bunny corrected herself once more. "I was told to talk to superiors that way."

"That's better," Blossom said. "I'm sorry about what I did today. I feel bad about it."

What Blossom had said brought tears to Bunny's eyes. Bubbles hadn't let her down. She was right all along about Blossom. She could never believe that one of her sisters was someone she could come to hate, and Bubbles was right.

"It's okay. I've gotten mad before too…" Bunny said. "I'm sorry for making you mad."

"Don't be, Bunny. I just… get that way sometimes and I couldn't control myself," Blossom said. "Miss Alice is helping me with that and she said I'm going to be all better. I'll teach you how to fly tomorrow and it's going to be fun."

"I just think spending time with you would be fun," Bunny said, and while she did, Blossom had slipped an arm around Bunny's. With the past being put to rest in the past, they both soon fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

Things, indeed, will be better tomorrow.


	82. Chapter 76: A Normal Day (Part 1)

A/N: Damn it, I did it again. Basically, I had to split this one up because it had gone on for longer than expected. The next part will be released sooner than usual as I have already written 2000+ words for it.

* * *

**Chapter 76: A Normal Day (Part 1)**

'Hi, voice recorder. I… can't sleep, so I sneaked out of my room to talk to you.

I just wish (cries) I didn't have to hide things from Dad. Dad… I know you've taught me to always be honest, and I know you've always said we could talk about anything but…

I... killed your friend, Dad. Mister Wiggums. He was nice to me b-but (cries) I killed him. General Blackwater said he was an enemy because he tried to tell on us, so I killed him. I chased him down on my bike and shot all his friends too. And then I just… I used a knife too. I'm sorry (cries). I'm so sorry…

I can't even show this recording to you. General Blackwater said not to. He said it's for your own good and mine. I'm going to try to be good from now on. I promise I won't do it again. I'm sorry… I… I guess I'll… go back to sleep now.' - Bunny Utonium, 03/02/89, 0015. Sound Record File 4

* * *

**Pokey Oaks County. Highway 16. En route to the Town of Citysville.**

**01 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 0637.**

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hostile at six o'clock!" the lieutenant of the defecting humvee hollered.

"It's not just any hostile either man! It's B-50!" the sergeant, also the driver, reported. "Bulldog, man the turret!"

"Wait! Don't hurt her!" Wiggums, the chief of logistics sitting in the back yelled. "She's not the enemy!"

"10-4, sarge," the corporal clambered up the humvee and out of the hatch on the roof to man the machinegun there.

"Stop!" Wiggums clawed at the corporal, trying to pull him back down, but the lieutenant had stopped him and pulled him back.

"Our guns don't work on those enhanced girls, Wiggums!" the lieutenant said. "We're just going to stop her pursuit - we need to! 'Cause her guns are definitely going to work on us!"

"She feels pain just like the rest of us!" Wiggums hollered back at the lieutenant. But any change of decision would be too little, too late by now. Bulldog had already begun firing on Bunny.

"Well tough shit! It's our life we're talking about!" a fourth soldier sitting next to Wiggums, another corporal, shouted over the hum of the engine and the sustained bursts of the machinegun above. Expended cartridges were raining back down in the passenger compartment below. "And this 'Bunny' will get her life back too if we make it!"

An explosion rocked the humvee after that.

"Fuck!" the driver yelled when he saw Bulldog flying ahead of the humvee and landing on the road before him. Yet he couldn't stop. To do so would be death. There was a bump, smaller than expected, likely due to the sheer weight and force of the humvee turning its wheels into tonnes-heavy blunt blades.

"Why the hell did I sign up for this shit! Fighting for some lab-grown girl when I got my own kids at home!" the surviving corporal lamented when he was starting to feel the walls closing in on him.

"Funny we're now fighting THAT lab-grown girl. I'm going out," the lieutenant said before unrolling his bulletproof window and shooting at Bunny as she raced ahead of the humvee. To what end B-50 was overtaking them, he did not know. "She's too fast, damn it!"

"What the hell is she doing?" the driver wondered aloud. "Just what does she think she's doing?"

Wiggums saw Bunny zooming far ahead before stopping. By the time the driver realized that she was aiming the same rocket launcher she'd used to kill Bulldog at them, it was too late for him to react - not that they had packed any countermeasures against a HEAT missile. The ordnance was fired, the engine was blown, and acting true to General Blackwater's training regime, the lieutenant was shot dead within the second it happened.

"Sir! Shit! Officer down!" the driver screamed as he tried his best to control his now-dead military vehicle. Not only was their transport disabled, so was their insular chain of command. They were so close and yet so far - the emblematic suspension bridge of Citysville was just ahead of them, and now it might as well be on the moon with Bunny in the way and their legs as the next best transportation option. "Nash! Get Wiggums outta here! We should be clear of the jam - signal the FBI! I'll hold her off!"

The sergeant didn't last very long after that, and neither did Nash. Wiggums himself was shot in the back and sent crawling in the snow. His last defense had been to reason with Bunny, only for it to fail and for him to take a knife to his hand.

"Wait! Please!" he'd screamed even as the knife was withdrawn from his hand, only to be plunged into him again. He'd coughed blood out even as he continued to try to reason with Bunny, even if the only words he had left were-

"Wait… Please…" he'd pleaded even as Bunny continued to stab him over and over.

"Wait…" She was so close, and yet so far…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 0345.**

Bunny shot up into a sitting position, having felt pain and fear as close to reality as a dream could get. Her hand had gone up to her forehead. It was hot and wet there. She felt sweat the moment she touched it, thick sheets of it. She was panting, even though it would usually take far, far more than sleeping to tire her out.

The morning was a lonely time for her, and it would continue to be so for the rest of her life. Being infused with Chemical X2, Bunny was enhanced even compared to her elder siblings, and as such, she could sleep just four hours and feel fine - or five, if she wanted to wake up feeling beyond refreshed.

After kissing Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup in the forehead, with the green Girl swiping away at her even in her sleep (but missing), Bunny began stretching herself as if getting ready for a long day of exercise. She then began practicing the various styles of martial arts she knew, all the while remaining completely silent with her potentially catastrophic attacks; there was only the whooshing of retreating air behind her punches and kicks, not enough to wake the other Girls up.

Not even an hour had passed after the conclusion of her self-directed training. She turned her attention to the box of wooden blocks they were using to build their tower the previous day. She challenged herself to build the nicest skyscraper she could imagine without making a sound, and she did it on the pink kiddie table too. She'd ended up with a miniature ten-floor monster.

Not even two hours had passed. She couldn't help but spend the next five minutes thinking. Her dream came back to her, then the trauma of killing her friend - Dad's friend - in the name of duty. She cried but covered her mouth to be silent, just like how General Blackwater showed her in stealth training. She'd lost track of time then as she curled up into a fetal position on the carpet, in a corner of the room.

She looked at the clock near the ceiling of the Girls' room when she was composed enough. 0532, military time. She went to the bookshelves and pulled out a book at random. It was dark, but not dark enough for her eyes after many hours spent in it. She was hoping that she'd pull out the book that Dad had read her the previous night, Daedalus and Icarus, but she'd ended up with The Ugly Duckling instead.

Reading was a skill she had only just mastered, drilled into her head like an emergency surgery. Being still new to the concept, it took her time to read the sentences written in gigantic font sizes.

'On a fine spring day, Mama Duck sat in her nest, half asleep…' was the first sentence in the story. Spring? Bunny had never experienced spring before, like her elder sisters. She barely even knew the word. The illustration provided a glimpse of what it was. A world filled with vibrant colors, mainly green, with the snow removed.

Bunny plodded on with the story. The pictures fascinated her as much as the reading, but it was when it all came together as a story that Bunny was inspired. She could identify with the titular Ugly Duckling, and she knew, then, that she would persevere and grow into the swan she was meant to be.

The storybook had made such an impression on her that she would read it from cover to cover over and over, sometimes lying down on the carpeted floor to stare at the pictures she liked, reading her favorite sentences because they sounded good as they rolled off her tongue or simply because they were her favorite bits of the story.

When it was close to sunrise, Bunny had returned to her position in bed, simply because she was unsure of what was expected from her. She'd tried to sleep, but she was too energetic to do so. Instead, she'd spent whatever time she had left until wake-up time just observing her elder sisters snoozing away. She'd lost count on how many minutes she'd spent studying Blossom's face, peaceful and angelic in her somnolent unawareness, but what she didn't lose was her love for her sisters. Blossom didn't want her protection, but she will protect her nonetheless. General Blackwater had predicted this - that they wouldn't understand, or even appreciate her or the fact that she was better and thus in the position to shield them from the evils of the outside world, but Bunny would stand her ground as she was trained to do.

When enough time had passed, there was the thumping of heavy footsteps in the distance, outside the door. She knew the rhythm of it. Dad. Bunny slipped lower into her bed and closed her eyes as the door to her room opened wider.

"Rise and shine, Bunny," the youngest of the quartet could feel Daddy's large palm on her shoulder. She turned on her bed and sat up, feigning lingering drowsiness as she stretched herself - the latter wasn't faked as she needed it again. "How was your first night with your lovely old sisters?"

"They're really nice, Dad," Bunny simply said and left it at that.

The morning was more ordinary than everyone predicted. To Blossom though, it had started on the wrong foot. They'd tried to bathe altogether at once, in one bathroom, but found out pretty quickly that it was too cramped. The same arrangement as the day before ensued and Blossom soon found herself fitted between Mom and Buttercup as a third wheel, handled roughly before being tossed aside once more.

'Don't get angry… Don't get angry… Don't get angry…' Blossom had to tell herself repeatedly inside when she saw that, once again, Bubbles and Bunny had Dad to themselves.

The talk of the day at the breakfast table was Bunny. Dad did not tell the elder Girls about it, but Bunny would be joining them in school from then on. Arrangements were made over the phone, with approval from General Blackwater. The chanting in Blossom continued throughout breakfast. It'd felt then that Miss Alice's advice on anger management felt insufficient.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten Complex.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1127.**

School wasn't any better for Blossom. Bunny, again, became the center of attention. Owing to Townsville's crime wave, Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup had to attend class fully equipped for operations. That policy extended to Bunny, who came in looking like some celebrity. Suited in her purple full body armor and armed to the teeth with her fully-modded P226 and MP5, even the Powerpuff Girls looked mundane next to her.

It didn't help that Bunny was riding her bike to school and parking in full view of her new schoolmates. There was no hiding from it; anyone with half a brain could tell that she was related to the Girls, likely the fourth addition to The Powerpuff Girls. The secret that she was their little sister had lasted only up to the beginning of class. It was over as soon as Miss Keane announced to the class that the Powerpuff Girls' fourth member would be joining them for the rest of the semester.

In Blossom's view, Bunny hadn't done anything to earn the attention heaped onto her, and though Bunny was shy about answer the gazillion questions were thrown at her by her classmates during her introduction and recess, she couldn't help but slip back into jealousy once more and throw her a dirty look now and then.

The beginning of class wasn't even the worst of it. During math class, Bunny was able to answer every question Miss Keane had opened to the floor before Blossom could even try until the teacher had to specifically ask Bunny to give the rest of the class a chance. It was no different when it came to reading and writing. Bunny could adaptively figure out new words where even Blossom was stumbling to do the same thing. It didn't help that Bubbles was rooting and cheering for Bunny, while Buttercup would chuckle at seeing Blossom being bested at her own game.

It was actually a relief when the Powerpuff Hotline rang. Blossom had practically zoomed towards it, with the rest of the quartet coming up behind her. When she picked up the phone, she'd expected Mister Mullens' voice on the other end.

"This is the Chief of Precinct 77. You know the drill," came the dry, gravelly voice of one of Townsville's many police chiefs. "Turner Street at the Tenements. The alley between Singh and Sons' and Katie's Emporium."

The chief hung up after that.

"Is it Mister Mullens!? Is it him!?" Bubbles had been screaming down Blossom's neck the moment she removed the phone from her ear. "Do we get to see Olivia and Stanley? Do we?"

Buttercup, in the meantime, seemed less excited than usual, what with one singular thing occupying her mind these days, something she would never dream of telling anyone.

"No... Bubbles, Buttercup, we have to go," Blossom merely stated mysteriously, before turning to Bunny, looking at her with that cold, emotionless stare before walking away and then kicking off into a hover before drifting off. Buttercup followed.

"We'll see you back at home, Bunny," Bubbles gave Bunny a hug before following her leader sister.

"Be careful Bubbles… I just wish I could help," Bunny said after her.

"Me too," Bubbles turned around and replied. "Maybe you'll get to help soon, I guess?" With that, she darted off after Blossom had screamed for her to catch up. Bunny could tell from that voice that Blossom had gotten mad again, though she had thankfully done so far away from her.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1633.**

Bunny had spent the better part of ten or twenty minutes staring at the family portrait Dad had put up in the living room. It was the wedding photo they had taken together, just before she had gone for her black ops crash course.

She couldn't recognize herself. It wasn't the way she looked that was different. As far as she knew, her brunette ponytail was still tied the same way, and she still had the same dress she'd worn on that day, though she hadn't used it since forever. No, it was her expression. Back then, she had not a single worry in the world. The smile she wore was unrestrained, pure.

She had tried to smile at herself in the mirror at school. That she had to practice in front of it had told her everything, and the resistance she couldn't help but put up against smiling fully had beat it into her head that everything had changed. It was as if smiling like she used to could cause it all to be taken away. Smiling like she used to simply felt wrong, especially with what she knew about how the world works.

When Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were back, she could hear them zooming towards the front door, where Dad was waiting. Bunny hopped down the stairs, still in her gear in case of a call, and joined Dad in welcoming back her elder sisters.

She was unsure of what to expect when the door opened. General Blackwater told her that her sisters were weak, but Blossom's lecture yesterday, while harsh, had told her otherwise. They could fly, shoot energy beams from their eyes and form energy shields to protect themselves - feats she was incapable of.

But General Blackwater turned out to be right. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were messed up when they returned. They were all riddled with so many bullets in the course of their duty that their protective gear was unsalvageable. Their uniforms, by this point, barely qualified as such. Not even Blossom's red bow nor Buttercup's vestigial ballistic goggles were spared. Bubbles was clutching an arm, congealed blood coated her hand and wounded arm, forming a crust where it had flowed, while Buttercup's gear was especially singed, likely from a molotov cocktail or several. Detonated flashbangs or smoke grenades still hung from the toughest of the three's vest - it was impossible to tell which was which.

Blossom hovered lazily towards Dad the moment the door opened, while Bubbles sought Bunny for comfort.

"The Rothstein Jewish Mob weren't a pushover, were they?" the professor said while hugging Blossom tightly.

"How did you know?" Blossom asked, with Bunny noting that there was a strange tinge of concern in her voice. Why would she be concerned?

"I was watching TNN news on television," the professor explained while he was leading the family towards the labs. "I thought I'd see the three of you there and I was right." Mom would appear out of the gym on the second floor later to help out.

Bunny could recall the news report from the television even though she wasn't paying attention to it; the family photo had caught her eye more. There was something about the Powerpuff Girls seen flying into an apartment complex uptown. Explosions, rapid-fire gunshots and bodies flying out the windows ensued. The news report had been positive; Townsville wasn't blind to the fact that the Girls had been clearing out gang after gang. However, it did state that it certainly wasn't the first time the Girls had left a crime scene all messed up.

It'd reminded Bunny of what she needed to do, and the urgency of it.


	83. Chapter 77: A Normal Day (Part 2)

**Chapter 77: A Normal Day (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1807.**

Despite what the first trio had been through, Selicia had decided that it wasn't severe enough to dismiss the day's training. Bubbles was the only one of the quartet to be excused owing to the graze wound on her arm. A Duranium bullet, likely provided by Townsville's local cult, had cut deep, enough to take out a swathe of skin along with it. Selicia had trouble deciding between letting Bubbles suffer a little in restitution for her past crime or letting her go, but she had decided to be merciful for once. She wouldn't have made a good opponent anyway.

The first match was between Blossom and Buttercup as Selicia had decided to save the best for last. As it stood, Buttercup was beginning to overshadow Blossom in unarmed combat, but Blossom had been improving as well, resulting in a stalemate between them.

"Bunny, you're up!" Selicia called for the fourth Girl when the current match-up proved to be so successful that there was little she could say. "You'll be sparring with Buttercup. Best out of three."

Bunny scampered to the center of the makeshift arena. She looked around and saw that Dad had swung around on his swivel chair, dropping his work to watch.

"Nice dress, by the way," Buttercup said to Bunny sarcastically, referring to the way she was attired for training. Bunny was wearing a set of Karategi, what she would wear in Karate class, and over that, she had padding on, and it was colored purple.

Sarcasm was still new to Bunny, but she could tell that Buttercup wasn't being sincere based on her mocking voice. In a way, she'd always known that Buttercup wouldn't be as nice as Bubbles just by how she would just stand by and watch her get devoured by Blossom's temper while Bubbles tried to intervene.

Bunny took a bow. Buttercup looked at her as if she had just grown a suit of white rabbit fur.

"You're weird!" Buttercup mocked her again.

"You ready, Buttercup?" Selicia sniped at Buttercup. She hated that she seemed to be slipping in performance, and her mouth, which was growing out of proportion to her skills, was running because of it. Bunny wasn't the only recipient of her harsh words; Buttercup was incredibly vocal during her matches with Blossom.

Buttercup shot Mom a look, hating that she'd singled her out for reprimanding.

"Do we really have to fight, Mom?" Bunny asked; General Blackwater and her martial arts instructors had beaten the butterflies out of her stomach when it came to combat, but it was a different matter if she had to fight against her sisters.

"Go!" Selicia shouted, ignoring Bunny. Buttercup, already smelling blood from the distracted Bunny, launched ahead and delivered a punch to Bunny's face, flooring her utterly and completely.

"Buttercup, stop!" Selicia yelled at the wayward of the Three. "You know the rules! Don't target the head!" Bunny was still rubbing her cheek while Mom and Buttercup were arguing.

"But that's stupid!" was Buttercup's best argument.

"No, it's not! It's for your own protection too, Butters!" Selicia reminded her. "Remember what Bubbles did to you when she was under the influence?" Her eyes darted to Bubbles, who caught it and immediately looked away. She'd heard what Mom said, and her mood had taken a turn immediately for the worse.

"Are you okay, Bunny?" Bubbles was checking on Bunny in the meantime. Dad was halfway across the lab and would have crossed it completely had Selicia not waved him away. "Don't mind Buttercup. She's really rough that way… But I think she still cares about us… Here, let me see." Bubbles gently removed Bunny's hand from her cheek. A bruise was beginning to form. Buttercup hadn't been holding back at all. However, it didn't look serious. Bubbles blew on it and gave it a kiss to calm the anxious Bunny down.

"You good to try again, Bunny?" Selicia asked, unsure if she would want to. Sure, she was a trained black ops assassin, but she was still a kid and a week-old one at that. Buttercup was still trying in vain to convince Mom that she was right, even when she was no longer listening.

But Selicia hadn't seen what Bunny had been through, and what she was prepared to do for what she believed in.

"Always, Mom," Bunny said with a determined look on her face while she stood up and rubbed the bruise on her face.

"Good," Selicia said. Putting her hands on Buttercup's shoulders, she spun her around and nudged her forward to face Bunny again. "Go on, Buttercup. Let's see how you fare without playing dirty."

"Hah! I'll floor her in no time!" Buttercup boasted as she was walking to the center. When the start of the sparring match was sounded once more, Buttercup rushed Bunny again, flailing multiple punches at her, only for Bunny to deftly dodge them blindingly fast. Blossom had been watching all along; her jaws were parting wider with every second. If Bubbles was fast, then Bunny was like a lightning!

"Stand still, you stupid rabbit!" Buttercup yelled in frustration when her punches and kicks had only connected with air. She jumped and directed a spinning kick at Bunny, only for the purple Girl to sidestep it a few inches to the left before delivering a left hook to her side, paralyzing her. This was followed by a punch to the solar plexus. Buttercup tried to salvage the situation by bear-hugging Bunny, only for her to break it easily and sweep her off her feet, leaving her groaning on the floor.

The second match wasn't any better for Buttercup. After a brief exchange of punches and deflections, a single punch to her armpit, even when pulled back, was enough to send her back to the ground.

The third match had devolved into wrestling. Buttercup, in her desperation to win at least one for herself, was initially able to gain the high ground by forcing Bunny to the ground face-down and pinning her arm to her back. Bunny would then proceed to launch the both of them up into the air with her super-strength and reverse their positions, with the force of the impact causing Buttercup to let go. Bunny would then pin her to the ground in the exact same position.

It was the 'Floor Hopper', as Selicia would term it.

"Seriously, Buttercup? It couldn't be two to one or even one to two? It just had to be three-love! That was pathetic!" Selicia would reprimand Buttercup after that, something which the enhanced little Girl found upsetting, though she'd kept it to herself. Selicia would then turn to Bunny to give her a quick coach-like one-armed hug and a rub on the head. "Good job, Bunny! Looks like your training's paying off. But I wonder…" Selicia's gaze had wandered to Blossom, then briefly to the emotionally-wounded Buttercup.

"Blossom, you're up," the security officer called to the leader of The Three. It was her turn, at last! Blossom had been waiting for this moment, which couldn't come too soon - the seconds were ticking by so slowly. It was finally her chance to prove herself to be the superior of the quartet! Blossom inched her gaze a little towards the left; yes, Dad was watching too. It'd surely mean that she'd get the attention she deserved after defeating Bunny!

Selicia, however, had a different idea in mind.

"Buttercup, you'll team up with Blossom. If you win this one match, we'll call it even. If you don't…" Selicia's voice trailed off before she turned to Bunny. "You think you can beat them both, Honey Rabbit? It's perfectly fine to back down from a fight you can't win."

"I can win, Mom," Bunny simply said, her tone turning away from confusion and anxiety into something more enlightened. Memories of her training had surfaced after she was punched in the face by Buttercup. She wasn't going to just roll over and die.

Buttercup was incensed, and right beside her, Blossom thought that Bunny was showing off once more. The sheer arrogance of it! It was reasonable if she thought she could beat Buttercup alone, but to take on two of them at once and come out on top? When the two of them had more than four months of hard-core live combat experience combined?

"Go right ahead then. Form a triangle, the three of you," Selicia ordered. Bunny got into position but Blossom and Buttercup were staring at her, confused. Selicia had to arrange them in the end, making so that each Girl was a corner of an equilateral triangle. Even before the match was started, Blossom and Buttercup were already giving Bunny the death stare. Bunny could have sworn that their eyes were glowing brighter from the intensity of their gaze alone.

Buttercup, as usual, launched ahead when Selicia ordered them to begin, this time with even greater ferocity. Blossom, however, opted to watch first as Buttercup screamed her way towards Bunny and fired punch after punch at her. With equal speed, Bunny was dodging strikes over her and deflecting blows aimed straight at her. In the meantime, Blossom decided to flank her, and while Bunny was busy, delivered a flying kick, expecting a hit - only for Bunny to practically warp out of the way backward.

Surging forward, however, Buttercup side-kicked Bunny while she was still reeling from the double-team and managed a hit on her chest. Bunny stumbled backward, lost her balance and fell in the same direction. Blossom was quick to take advantage of this; while Bunny was still getting up, she leaped towards her for a heavy flying spinning kick, and when she fazed out of the way, threw a surprise punch, which caught her in the throat. Bunny's hands went up as she gagged on the force of the punch. Blossom couldn't help but smile when she made the gains she did.

Selicia opted not to stop the match. Professor Utonium watched in horror as the practice match became more serious than it should. Knowing that training was important for the Girls' development and survival in the field, he stayed where he was, and could only trust in his Girls that they knew better than to cross the line and actually wound each other.

Without resting on her laurels, Blossom flung another kick at Bunny - but she was able to deflect it one-handed, with the other hand on her throat, still. When Blossom followed it up with another kick, Bunny seized Blossom by the foot and threw her off her other foot. Buttercup had 'intervened' before Bunny could capitalize on Blossom's vulnerable state.

Buttercup had attempted to mix it up, throwing in a kick or two in between multiple punches going in unpredictable patterns in the hops of catching Bunny off-guard, but Bunny didn't need to predict a pattern; she simply needed to block her blows fast enough or distract Buttercup with her own attacks, something her Chemical X2 enhancement had allowed… up to a point.

A punch slipped through after an extended exchange of attacks, and it'd gone right for Bunny's mouth. Bunny could taste blood immediately after that. She gritted her red teeth and licked the blood off them as she stared Buttercup down, seeing her as nothing more than an enemy in the sweltering heat of combat.

Buttercup didn't stop even after drawing blood; violence had become her only other stimulus now, beyond the hope of seeing her new friend. Attracted to where the blood was, she flew in with a kick, only to get sidestepped. That was when she felt a sharp pain right in the spine at the small of her back. Bunny had elbowed her there and caused so much pain that she'd fallen over, writhing on the ground.

Bunny did not stop, however, and began kicking Buttercup while she was down, just so she wouldn't get up again. It was conventional military thinking which was still relevant in an age of enhanced children enforcing the law.

On seeing this, Blossom launched at her with a barrage of punches, aimed at her solar plexus and kidneys, but Bunny was far too fast for her; Bubbles had been her limit. It'd ended with Bunny breaking her defense and directing two quick punches to her own solar plexus, then another up her armpit, sending her twirling into the ground, and like Buttercup, she couldn't get up after that.

Selicia was stunned, and so was the professor that they were rooted in their places, though they were paralyzed each by different reasons. Bubbles' mouth was agape. Bunny was practically a blur whenever she was moving, whether it was to react to an attack or to attack. Blossom and Buttercup simply couldn't match her speed.

When it was all over, Bunny was standing where she was, panting. Her hands were still up in a defensive posture. She would look to and fro, expecting another attack from another angle, but there was no more. It took her killer's instinct time to back down; Blossom and Buttercup, in the meantime, were actually afraid of her, and while Bunny was coming down from her adrenaline rush, they were crawling away from her as if she was something worse than Mojo Jojo.

Eventually, the entire lab finally snapped out of their amazement. Selicia was the first to rush up to Buttercup. Bubbles ran up to Blossom, though Bunny had tried to help her up out of concern only for Blossom to push her away and squeal for her to back off like a wounded animal. The professor, however, was the only member of the family to pay any attention to Bunny after the horrific fight.

"Are you okay, Sugar-Bun?" the professor asked out of concern as she pulled her gently away from the makeshift arena.

"They… They attacked me and I defended myself…" Bunny muttered absentmindedly. Her mind was still stuck in battle, stuck analyzing every tiny little movement and development that transpired since Selicia's call for the match to start.

"It's just training, Bunny, that's all it is," the professor was desperately trying to preserve what little scraps of innocence there was left in Bunny, but it was like carrying water with his bare hands. "It got a little out of hand, but it's normal. It happens all the time."

"Really?" Bunny sort of knew that there was some embellishment in what Dad had said, but hardwired into her head was the fact that Daddy could never be wrong. Father knows best, as the saying goes.

"Yeah… Nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Now come over here and sit down," the professor walked her over to the medical side of the lab. He was soon checking her mouth after that, making sure that there was no permanent damage, that Bunny wouldn't be losing her teeth anytime soon. It was still a mystery how the Girls' teeth work, a reminder that the professor still hadn't brought the Girls to a dentist for a checkup.

Although misaligned, Bunny's teeth were fine, if only in need of braces. The blood was from tears in her gum, but those had already been sealed. With Bunny, they would heal fully in a matter of hours.

Meanwhile, Selicia was bringing the rest of the Girls to him. Instead of feeling relief from how the rest of the Girls were fine, however, the professor found himself feeling something else, something he had never felt about the rest of his family for a very long time.

The professor had made sure to send Bunny out of the lab before he said anything.

"Why didn't you stop the fight?" the professor questioned the woman he had come to accept as his fiancee - his fiancee! Doing this to his adopted children! "Look at them!" Blossom and Buttercup were occupying Selicia's arm each, each shivering in pain, clutching tightly onto her as if she was their lifeboat. Selicia looked like she was barely able to stand, likely because they were decked out fully in armor - which didn't stop Bunny from dishing out the pain.

"I thought they knew when to stop," Selicia managed to utter, flabbergasted by how things had devolved so quickly - and the Girls typically fought at speeds multiple times that of normal people. But it didn't matter; she didn't think that now was a time to hide certain truths from Thomas. "I messed up - I'm sorry…"

The professor said nothing. Not even a word. Selicia left on her own, going up the stairs. He wasn't quite done with her yet, but there were pressing matters to attend to - namely, three of his quartet. Bunny had gotten off surprisingly light - with no fractures to her facial areas and no damage to her trachea.

The damage Bunny did to Blossom and Buttercup, however, appeared more severe on the surface. Bunny had cracked the Kevlar plates inside their vests, and when those were removed, the professor discovered huge bruises in Blossom's solar plexus and armpit, and the lower half of Buttercup's spine. He had to send them through an x-ray scanner to detect internal injuries if there were any.

And it was done with bated breath from the rest of the family.

But there were no internal injuries, just bleeding beneath the skin, which stopped after they'd sufficiently reminded everyone of the ferocity of the training battle.

The professor had been quiet throughout the medical examination, something which worried Blossom while Buttercup remained as nonchalant as she had recently become. In both their minds, things that were unordinary were taking shape.

"Dad?" Blossom tried talking to him while she was still lying on her back in her ward bed. The professor was sitting behind a desk nearby, typing up a report.

It was as if he didn't hear her. But she could see that he did. She had even zoomed her vision in to see his face better. He took a brief, irritated peek at Blossom before going back to his work.

"Dad, please talk to me," Blossom said. The fear in her voice wasn't hidden at all. If she was trying to, she had failed miserably. Dad was actually less frightening back when Buttercup was wrongfully accused by Bubbles of abusing drugs, or when he was teaching her a lesson about abandoning sisters in the middle of a district rife with sex crimes.

"I thought you're smarter than this, Bloss," the professor simply said while he was typing away on his computer. Blossom's vision was still enhanced. She'd noticed that he was writing near-gibberish on the computer screen towards the latter half of his report. "Why, Blossom? Your Mom didn't… bear you a new sister for you to hurt her."

Blossom couldn't tell him. Neither could she come up with any reasonable excuse. She was smart enough to know that there was none for what she did. She'd struck Bunny in all the wrong places, all in the hopes of beating her and gaining Dad's attention. It was ironic how she'd gotten what she wanted, except she'd gotten the wrong kind of attention.

The professor was shaking with anger, but he was holding it back. He'd rested a hand on his desk, and it was balled up into a fist.

"You and Buttercup will be fine. You're lucky that Bunny's fine," the professor said while pinning his eyes on her, those carnivorous eyes he'd get when he was angry. "I don't care how you'll do it, but you're going to make it up to her one way or another."

"Dad, I…" Blossom had wanted to tell her about how she'd been feeling for days, since Bunny's entrance into the family, only to realize that it wasn't a good time for it. It never was, not since Bunny came into the picture. Before she'd get a chance to reconsider her decision, however, Dad went on:

"What are you waiting for? I told you, you're fine," he said coldly. "So get off my hospital bed and find a way to make things right with Bunny."

Blossom gasped when her Dad had essentially told her off when she needed him the most. Bunny had done more damage to her than the twenty or so Rothsteins she had killed or wounded. Was it just Bunny that'd made him mad? Blossom still hadn't figured out if he knew that she'd been killing criminals.

"Dad, I really need to talk to you," Blossom begged.

"No, you need to talk to Bunny," Dad snapped back at her. "Who I really need to talk to is Buttercup."

Buttercup turned on her bed, careful not to agitate the bruise on her back, and looked at Dad impassive. It actually took effort for her to speak, not from pain or lack of energy, but from the sheer lack of motivation. "You do?" she asked.

"Dad-" Blossom mewled.

"Just go, Blossom. Don't talk to me again until Bunny's happy," he snapped back at her again. Brought nearly to tears, Blossom floated off her bed and towards the stairs. Turning around to look at the professor one last time, she hoped for her Dad to second-guess himself, but he hadn't even looked her way as far as she could see.

As soon as Blossom left, Professor Utonium got up from his chair. Buttercup had lost interest in a span of seconds and had rolled back to face away from him. He'd expected her to be rough with Bunny - it was within her character to do so - but what really concerned him was her complete apathy to… everything. Even Selicia had told him in bed the previous day that Buttercup seemed less engaged even with her. Alice had yet to say anything, no thanks to General Blackwater for canceling Wednesday's psychiatric session without his input.

Coming up to Buttercup, the professor put his hand on Buttercup's arm. There was no reaction from her. "Buttercup?" he tried to catch her attention, but she continued to pretend she didn't hear him. So he walked around the bed… only for her to turn and face the other side, rubbing her aching back after that.

"Buttercup," the professor said again.

"What?" she finally said something.

"I know you're still upset with me," he said. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have jumped the gun so quickly when Bubbles accused you of using those drugs." It felt as if some weight was lifted off his shoulder. There hadn't been time enough for him to admit his mistake sooner, even when Bunny was gone. He'd spent it on worrying and fearing for Bunny's life then, something he regretted.

Buttercup said nothing to that. In her mind, that wasn't the only thing that'd left her disenfranchised. It was just one transgression after the next, a string of proof that she was just the third wheel of the Powerpuff Girls, tied to the moment she was born. And now, with Bunny in the picture, what was she? The fourth wheel? Not that it mattered anymore - there was someone else, someone so powerful he could command the love and obedience of thousands, something she doubt Dad could do.

"I'll always love you, no matter who or what you are," Dad said when he was met with silence once more. Not that it worked. He sat down on her ward bed, his hand on her shoulder. He caressed her cheek briefly, partly because he was afraid anything more ambitious might provoke her. "Look, how about if you choose what's for dinner? I'll get you whatever you want."

Buttercup seemed silent at first, and the professor was all but certain that he wasn't getting through to her, until…

"Can I get an ice-cream? And pizza?" Buttercup finally took the offer. She'd rolled over to finally face him.

"What flavor?" the professor asked readily, afraid that he might lose the opportunity to communicate with Buttercup if he hesitated.

"Mint and pepperoni – no pineapples!" Buttercup said. "Yuck, I hate that fruit!"

"Mint and pepperoni, coming right up!" the professor said with glee - finally, some positive banter between him and Buttercup! "There's just… one small price to pay, Butterscotch."

Buttercup never liked the nickname Mom and Dad would give her. Butters, Butterball, Butterfly, Butterscotch, and even more recently and shamefully, Buttress and Butterbread.

"What?" Buttercup asked, already beginning to lose interest because of Dad's habits.

"How about a hug and a kiss?" the professor asked. More lovey-dovey SHIT that Buttercup hated. But if it meant getting ice-cream (mint-flavored too!) and pepperoni pizza…

"Okay…" Buttercup agreed begrudgingly, sitting up and giving Dad a hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Oh, doesn't that feel good?" Dad said.

"Yeah, super," Buttercup 'agreed', though she'd kept the sarcasm as hidden as super-humanly possible, lest she risk getting her ice-cream and pizza offer retracted.

"How long has it been since we last did this?" he would then ask.

'Not long enough,' Buttercup thought, as her mind wandered to the dead cat, the cultists and their sacrifices for her, and the powerful friend she was going to meet.


	84. Chapter 78: A Normal Day (Part 3)

**Chapter 78: A Normal Day (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1834.**

Blossom was desperate. Dad wouldn't talk to her, so there was only one other person she could turn to.

"Mom!" Blossom cried out tearfully as she ascended the stairs up to the second floor. "Mommy, where are you!?"

She was nowhere to be found. Desperate for any kind of attention, she penetrated the walls of The House with her x-ray vision to find her. Sweeping through the second floor, she stopped about halfway when she saw Mom in the adjoining bathroom of the master bedroom.

While rubbing the tears out of her eyes, Blossom ran into the master bedroom, then into the adjoining bathroom. "Mom!"

Selicia had been washing her face all the while. Her eyes were puffy and red, though Blossom did not notice because she'd hugged her in the legs the moment she entered the bathroom and cried into her pants.

"What the hell do you want?" Selicia asked brusquely, not in the mood to entertain Blossom, of all the Girls she had to deal with while she was facing issues of her own.

Blossom couldn't reply right away as she was reduced to tears, inconsolable, from Dad's outburst. Instead, she continued to cry into Selicia's pants, hugging her legs, perhaps hugging it too tightly.

"Get off me, damn it!" Selicia yelled and pushed Blossom away by the forehead. "What's your problem, kid!?"

"Dad wouldn't t-talk to me!" Blossom cried. "And he- he told me to apologize to B-Bunny even though it's not my fault!" She tried to hug Mom again, only for her to slap her. Selicia didn't stop there, and she started raining slaps down on Blossom while she was backed into a corner and hiding behind her arms.

"It IS your fault, you STUPID bitch!" Selicia screamed at Blossom, who hadn't stop hiding behind her arms even when Selicia had stopped trying to slap her. "I mentioned it, didn't I!? I SAID not to TARGET THE HEAD! During training! And now you've damaged this family."

"But-"

"Urgh! Your tears are disgusting!" Selicia ranted as she wiped her palm on her pants. Some of Blossom's tears had gotten on her hand while she was slapping her. But then she seemed to have stopped - just stopped being mad, as if a switch was turned off in her. She smiled, then laughed. Stooping down to Blossom's level, she studied Blossom's face while she was totally bewildered by how the woman she called Mom was acting. "I told you, didn't I? That we're both the same? You're a jealous little nobody despite all the power in the world you possess. Now get lost! Or do I have to bring my stun baton up again and turn it up to eleven?"

Selicia's threat had sent Blossom running. With no other choice, she'd gone back to her room where she thought Bunny would be. Closer to the Girls' room though, she slowed down; she wasn't entirely enthusiastic about apologizing to Bunny. She kinda, sort of, knew that she was wrong to have broken the training rules, but even then, she still felt… wronged somehow. She had been deprived of Dad's attention and love for what felt like forever. She felt the need to fight harder to get it back, and now it felt as if she was being punished for it.

Upon entering the room, Blossom saw that Bunny was there alright. She was looking out of one of the three porthole-like windows, staring at God knows what in the snow and empty neighboring houses. The lights weren't even on, so she looked like some kind of ghost haunting the room. Blossom flew to the switches and made the darkness and shadow go away, and the room less scary.

"Bunny?" Blossom called out to her, still sniffling from her traumatic meeting with her Mom and Dad's alienation.

She didn't answer her. It was fast becoming a family tradition. "Bunny, it's me, Blossom," she called out to her again. It was only when she got closer that Bunny turned to look at her.

Bunny's cheeks were streaked with tears, and the look on her face, that wretched look twisted by sadness, that beautiful face (at least with the teeth hidden) tainted by darkness, was enough to make Blossom feel guilty. It'd hit her hard then that she had made another mistake, this time not in anger, but in greed for Dad's attention.

Blossom walked over to Bunny with her hands on her mouth, horrified by what she had done. She was better than this, she knew it. Dad had been right - she did need to make it up to her.

"Oh, Bunny, I didn't know how much I've upset you," Blossom said as she held her hand.

"It's fine," Bunny said curtly, as stoically as she could, but her body language, shaken voice, and tears were telling a completely different story, though one that'd painted Bunny in a better light, enough to make Blossom realize, even if briefly, how special a little sister she had. "It was just training, and Dad said it's normal for it to get out of hand…"

Good ol' Dad was trying to make Bunny feel better. He wasn't a great liar, but there was some truth in what he said. Now, it was her turn to make it right. Walking over to a window, she opened it wide. She had to hover to do it. There was the wail of the shut-out wind, and it became a bellow when it finally had an audience. The nightly snowfall was lighter than before, a sign of the coming spring.

"What are you doing?" Bunny asked, perplexed by her elder leader sister's actions, even a little afraid of what she might have in mind.

"Trust me, you'll be fine," Blossom simply said. Walking behind Bunny, she latched onto the back of her younger sister. Bunny gasped in surprise when she was lifted off her feet, and began floating off the ground. Blossom was doing the lifting.

"Curl up your arms and legs." Blossom instructed Bunny, and when she did as she said, she flew her out the window, with Bunny screaming in surprise, before making a U-turn up to drop her off on the roof.

It was cold out in the open, and Bunny wasn't exactly dressed in winter-wear.

"W-what are we d-doing out here?" she could barely even enunciate with her chattering teeth as she hugged herself.

"I'm going to teach you how to fly," Blossom declared to her new sister. She felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in her despite the wintry conditions, and it felt good.

"C-c-can I h-have a jacket first?" Bunny stuttered.

"Oh! I forgot about that!" Blossom exclaimed - she herself was dressed in combat gear, which provided her with a degree of warmth, and that was on top of her X-given natural resistance to the cold. She flew back into the house through the porthole window and came back shortly afterward with Bunny's military winter fatigue.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1846.**

"Have you fallen from really high up before?" Blossom asked her younger sister while she was hovering just a couple feet away from the edge of the roof, showing off one of the powers that Bunny didn't have. Yet.

"Yes, back when I was in training. I was in a mall, and I had to jump from a higher floor down…" Bunny described her experience. Blossom thought it sounded familiar. She had done the same thing before, and in the same location no less. This led the Girls off on a tangent as they conversed at length about their experience in training. While Bunny had three grueling days, Blossom had had but one, and it wasn't as painful an experience.

"Anyway, did you feel it when you were about to land?" Blossom brought them back to the topic of learning how to fly.

"Feel what?" Bunny asked.

"That you were slowing down even before you touch the floor?" Blossom explained. Bunny thought back to that moment when she landed on the roof of the clothes shop in the abandoned mall. Her perfect memory had helped. Yes. She did seem to slow down. In fact, she was actually afraid of being discovered the moment she landed on the roof. Considering the weight of her armor and gear, she was surprised that she wasn't found out - until now when it all made sense. Bunny's face said it all, and so Blossom continued with her lecture: "I knew it. That's how I found out I could fly one day… Well, not really, but that was kinda it."

Blossom returned herself to the roof. After making sure that Bunny was watching, she made a running start before jumping a few yards into the air. Bunny thought that Blossom was just doing some gymnastics trick until Blossom did a double jump in the air by emitting an X-thrust mid-air. As a result, she landed much further than she would have had she merely just jumped. She turned around to face a Bunny who had been watching her attentively, impressed by the feat she had just accomplished even if it was an appetizer compared to flying.

"There are wings in your feet that you can't see, Bunny," Blossom explained while she hovered back to her. "I learned to use it when…" the circumstances of her discovery of flight were still upsetting to her, a reminder that there was still a rift between her and Buttercup, partially mended though it might be. "I was fighting with Buttercup, and she was hurting me. I learned to fly and I beat her."

Bunny held Blossom's hand when she recounted her past trauma, her voice still peppered with grief as if it had happened the day before. Blossom reciprocated, squeezing her hand tightly as she looked up with a smile on her face.

"Anyway, that's how I taught Bubbles and Buttercup to fly," Blossom went on to explain, before leading Bunny close to the edge of the roof. "You'll have to jump off The House and try to fly so you won't hurt yourself. Dad said it's like how mother birds taught their babies to fly."

"But that's…" Bunny couldn't even mention it for how incredulous she was, but more than that, the idea scared her. She had never dropped down more than a floor before, and now she would have to willingly jump off a cliff. She actually began to wonder if Blossom was just trying to get back at her for beating her in practice.

"I know how you feel, Bunny, my dear little sister, and I haven't given you any reason to trust me but…" Blossom went on, but found herself stumbling for words. Looking back, she was horrified by her own actions. She regretted them, and it wasn't just because she was facing condemnation from both her parents and possibly Bubbles. Tears trickled out of her eyes unexpectedly. "I thought if I teach you how to fly I'd…"

"I believe you, Blossom," Bunny had leaped the moment she saw that Blossom was upset. "Please don't cry! I'll do whatever you want! I'll jump!" And she was about to too and had it not been for Blossom who pulled her back, she would have made good on her word without any preparations.

"Wait!" Blossom shouted in alarm, wiping her tears away. She didn't want Bunny to go without the right preparations. "Concentrate on your legs, Bunny. The wings on your legs, remember that. Tell them to fly and they will. I hope they'll listen, because Buttercup had to fall many times before she learned to even jump in the air."

"Okay. Wings on legs… Wings on legs…" Bunny repeated Blossom's words to herself. "I'll be fine…"

Blossom watched morbidly as Bunny inched closer to the edge before bending her knees and posturing to jump.

"Good luck," Blossom wished Bunny, who, after some hesitation, finally jumped off the roof. Blossom would then quickly scramble to the edge to watch. Deep down inside, however, she felt the temptation of sadism. Despite the lessons she had learned from her mistakes, she couldn't help but wish for Bunny to hurt herself - even if it was just pain, it'd have to do - especially when she knew that things had changed when Bunny was born.

Bunny plunged into the snow at full force. She was fortunate that she wasn't dressed in her full combat kit or the weight would have made it worse. She'd lost control while she was falling, landing on her back. The snow had cushioned her fall, and her natural X-thrust had helped, but it was still a rough landing, one that had sent ripples of pain through her back and body when she landed.

Ploooom! The empty, night air rang out loud and clear.

"Are you okay down there, Bunny?" Blossom called out from the roof. Bunny groaned, her eyes closed as she tried to block out the pain, but it was fast fading away.

'It's not real, this monster you call pain. It's like a nagging voice in your head, but it's important as a warning sign,' General Blackwater's voice reminded Bunny, loud in her mind amidst the ringing.

Bunny opened her eyes and smiled bitterly. She held up a thumbs-up sign. "I'm okay! Can we go again?" she replied to Blossom, who flew down to fetch her and lift her back to the roof. To fly would be the ultimate freedom, something she wanted very much. But most importantly, it was a chance to bond with her leader sister, who appeared to be the eldest of all of them, despite being born at the same time as Bubbles and Buttercup - as told by her Dad.

It was around this time that Bubbles and Buttercup happened to be in the living room, and had seen Blossom airlifting Bunny. They ran out to watch when they realized what was going on. Bunny was just about ready to jump when she saw that she had an audience. For some reason, it'd made her slightly nervous. She was used to having people watch her train, but her sisters were different.

Bunny was about to jump when she saw who else had come out to watch. Dad. Sweat was pouring down her forehead despite the cold.

"Don't be shy, Bunny," Blossom tried to egg her younger sister on. "Just remember what I said and you'll be fine."

"Go, Bunny! You can do it!" Bubbles shouted some encouragement.

After taking in a deep breath, Bunny took the plunge, focusing on her legs so that the invisible wings there would take flight.

The ground seemed to be rushing up to her, an endless white wall of snow. It was like sitting in a car when it was about to crash, until...

She went the other way. Gravity seemed to be turning in on itself when a force strong enough had pushed her up, sending her in an arc across the lawn of The House, landing just feet away from the pavement close by - thankfully - because she had landed chest-first in the snow.

Blossom flew to her while she was recovering from her fall. Bubbles and Dad were cheering her while they were similarly running towards her.

Bunny was still seeing stars as she rolled on her back, groaning from the fall. Up above, the real stars had joined those born from her pain. Up above, she could see a particularly bright one standing out among the rest as she lay there, spreadeagled and gasping while she tried to will the pain away. Despite the pain and difficulties she suffered, she couldn't help but think that this moment - this specific moment - was beautiful.

"That was great, Bunny! You did it!" Bubbles exclaimed excitedly before pulling on her hand to sit her up.

"I knew you had it in you, Bunny! My smart, strong, talented little baby!" Dad smothered her with love as he held her by the sides and heaved her to her feet.

"But… I wasn't able to fly…" Bunny said dejectedly, which turned quickly into confusion when she was showered with so much praise despite her failure to go airborne.

"Of course not! I don't think anyone in their right mind would expect you to - but you've done it! You did the double-jump - and at such a tender young age, too!" the professor explained.

"Yeah! It took us forever to fly!" Bubbles said. Historically, it took Blossom more than three weeks to discover flying, Bubbles a little more to do the same and Buttercup much longer to catch up. That Bunny could come close to flying in one week was a feat in and of itself.

Blossom was watching in the meantime, apart from the circle Bubbles, Dad and Bunny had formed. A smile crept up soon after. She'd done it. Bunny was happy and smiling again, just like Dad wanted. But it'd also meant that Dad's attention was diverted back to Bunny once more. Her smile crept away after that, replaced by hopelessness, and defeated tears. But then Bunny pointed at her:

"Blossom helped me lots. I wouldn't have done it without her," she said, and soon all attention was turned to Blossom. Next thing she knew, she felt Dad's hand on her back, and when she looked up, Dad was kneeling in front of her, wiping a teardrop away.

"Now that's the Blossom I know," Dad said. "The smart, savvy, nurturing leader of a big sister to the rest of your team."

"I just want you to love me," Blossom managed while she was sniffling and holding back tears.

"Don't think for a second that I've stopped loving you," the Dad replied. They hugged after that, with Blossom spilling the last tears of the night.

Blossom would continue to instruct Bunny on the lawn after that, teaching her how to control her X-thrust better to do her double-jump with greater reliability. Out in the dark porch of a neighboring house, a lonesome, scrawny man had been watching before quickly retreating back into his home.


	85. Chapter 79: Shadow War (Part 1)

**Chapter 79: Shadow War (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2155.**

Bunny did not want to go, but she had to. When her superiors started calling, it was her duty to go. She would have been more than glad to go had it not been for the way life would remind her that happiness was fleeting, even if the pain was equally so.

After the family's nightly dinner and bath, Bunny heard shouting coming from the master bedroom. Dad and Mom were arguing, and she could hear it easily because of her enhanced hearing. Unknown to her, she had a kindred spirit when it came to sensitive hearing, but Buttercup couldn't care less about the family.

They seemed like they were at each other's throats, but Bunny knew she couldn't get involved in the adults' matters. That was the impression she'd gotten back in her black ops training. Dad was yelling at Mom about how she had failed in her duties as the Girls' instructor, and Mom was accusing him of hypocrisy. Dad would yell at Mom about how he thought she was giving preferential treatment to Buttercup and Bunny, while Mom screamed back at him for neglecting Buttercup and failing to protect the family as the man of the family.

It was all too much for the week-old enhanced girl. It'd gotten messy, spiraled out of control too quickly, too deeply for her to listen to. And yet she couldn't help it. All while Bunny had been trying really hard to play with Blossom and Bubbles. They were recreating Townsville just like they used to, and Bunny was actually trying to get them to play her version of a tabletop wargame.

She couldn't even host it right as she was constantly distracted, and the game was ended early when Blossom and Bubbles thought she was too tired to play. The Girls ended up going their separate ways in the room, with Blossom reading and Bubbles playing with her hospital set dolls. Bunny, meanwhile, hid behind a huge dollhouse, staring blankly at the miniature occupants of a manufactured American Dream while Dad and Mom continued their total war of words.

It was as if Bunny was so upset that she'd become a black hole - time flew by as she curled up behind the dollhouse, unknowingly abandoned by her sisters who were busy occupying themselves, thinking that she was just having fun with their toys.

Buttercup, in the meantime, continued her journey through the cards Dad used to teach them words and their associated meanings. She had finally, and inadvertently, come upon the science section. 'Scientists learn about the world', said one. 'Experiments are done for learning', said another. 'Guinea pigs help them learn', another card flashed, show a scientist giving a guinea pig a thermometer and injection. 'The Guinea pigs and lab rats are friends', another continued telling the science story.

That was when it hit her. And when it did, it'd taken her breath away, like a punch in the gut, or a shot in the lungs. How did it elude her all this time?

Dad came in after that. Only Blossom and Bubbles noticed him. Whatever modicum of attachment Buttercup had with Dad was completely extinguished the moment she realized the truth. Bunny, on the other hand, didn't dare speak to Dad. She couldn't help but feel responsible somehow for the fight between him and Mom, and guilty for eavesdropping on their argument.

It didn't take long for Dad to notice that half his Girls were missing.

"Bunny, Buttercup! It's bedtime!" he called out to the 'missing' Girls, but they were really just sitting further away from the other two. Buttercup reluctantly floated over to the bed, motivated only by physical needs. Bunny followed after a long pause. Despite looking taxed, it seemed that Dad was thinking about himself last. He forced a smile, hoping that it looked like he had a fun surprise for them. "How about a special story tonight? We'll continue Icarus and Daedalus' story and then we'll find out-"

Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! The clown phone interrupted Dad just when he was successful at distracting Bunny from her misery. Icarus and Daedalus' story had a special place in her heart, especially since it was told by her Dad.

Blossom sped over to the phone, slightly annoyed that their bedtime was interrupted by a call - it would mean a late night for them. While Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup could take sleep deprivation far better than kids their physical age, the feeling of staying awake longer than usual was still unpleasant, just like how harmless bullets could still cause them pain even if they would only bounce off them.

"Hello? It's Blossom," the leader of the quartet spoke into the phone. "Is that you, Mullens?"

"No," the voice in the phone said coldly. It wasn't a voice that Blossom recognized. "I'm looking for B-50. Bunny. Bunny Utonium."

The voice had just stopped there and waited. And when Blossom did not respond, the man on the phone repeated his request impassively: "B-50 'Bunny'. Now."

It was the first time it had happened. Blossom got off the phone staring at Bunny while the rest of the room was looking at her, wondering what manner of emergency had gotten her to appear so flabbergasted.

"Who is it, honey?" Dad asked.

"Someone's looking for Bunny," Blossom's voice was almost a whisper. She had mixed feelings about this; Relief that she and her fellow elder sisters wouldn't be fighting till midnight, but genuine apprehension that Bunny was going to go. She couldn't help it, but she was glad Bunny was going as it meant that she'd have Dad all to herself, but at the same time, she was horrified, again, at herself for being so selfish. Why couldn't she control her own feelings?

Bunny had been sitting in bed, and the moment she heard that the phone was for her, she'd stiffened up. It was time. But with everything that had happened, the timing didn't feel right.

Yet duty calls.

Rushing to Blossom, Bunny took it, her misery forgotten.

"Hello? Private Bunny Utonium reporting, sir," she said into the phone stoically.

"B-50. This is Rook of USDO Intelligence. Report to Providence Avenue near the warehousing district ASAP," and that was it. The person on the other end hung up the moment the message was delivered. Bunny did the same. The time had come, but it didn't come at a great time. She'd wanted to spend more time with Dad, not just for herself, but for him as well.

"Well, what was that about?" Dad asked when he noticed that Bunny had frozen up. His voice had spurred her into action.

"I have to go," Bunny announced, determined. It was a sacrifice she would have to make. Her family was at stake and she needed to keep them safe. If she wasn't going, her sisters would likely be. "I'm going to fight crime."

Bunny rushed into the closet immediately, closing the door behind her. Professor Utonium and the Girls could hear the clattering of clothes hangers and boxes shifting. She was out within seconds.

"That's-" the professor wanted to say more, but Bunny's quickness was something awe-inspiring, something which muted him. She'd burst out of the walk-in closet in her uniform before walking into her armor and putting it on speedily. She was in and secured within a second. "Bunny-"

Bunny would then return to the closet, this time without closing the door, to put her weapons and equipment on; her modded MP5, P226, knife, various grenades, a bag of claymore explosives, night-vision goggles. Some wires and rope - to everyone else who were watching, it seemed as if there was no end to the stuff she was bringing along. But still, Bunny made short work of them. She was on the way to the window again within seconds. It hadn't even been a minute ago when she was in her pajamas.

"Bunny, wait!" her Dad shouted. She turned around. He ran up to her to hug her, as if afraid that she'd just be whisked away, never to return. With her speed, it was actually about half true. Bunny hugged him back tightly that the professor was actually aching from the hardness of her next-generation personal armor. "Stay safe, okay? I wish I could be there for you."

"Me too," Bunny whispered into his ear. The professor pulled back, looking at her, confused as to what she meant.

"I'll be fine, Dad," she then said, this time in normal volume.

"Good luck!" Blossom wished Bunny.

"Be careful!" Bubbles added.

"Don't let the bullets bite!" Buttercup made a half-hearted attempt at blending in.

"You see, Bunny? Your family loves you. Come home soon," the professor said, then kissed Bunny in the cheek. She kissed him back the same way, and then she was gone.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2205.**

Bunny had taken her bike, and soon she was roaring down the highway towards the rendezvous point Rook had set up for her. It was a surprisingly stealthy way to go about doing something. With her speed, she was able to pass as a short woman at a glance, and with her weapons and equipment, Townsvillians would just assume she was a USDO agent. The only secret was that she was an enhanced child involved in black operations.

She was stopped only once by the police for her excessive speed, but her black pass solved that problem.

It didn't take long at all for her to reach the rendezvous point, which was a distance away from the warehousing district. There was a black four-wheel-drive SUV. A man, who was halfway through his cigarette, was leaning against it. She'd seen him before. A suave guy with gelled hair, he looked every bit like an intelligence agent. Or a mid-tier office worker. Or a businessman. Or a hundred other things. Upon seeing her, he opened a door and gestured for her to get in.

General Blackwater was in there. Her heart jumped when she saw him, not out of fear, but gladness.

"Hello, Bunny," the general greeted her like some long lost father. "How's it been, going back to your family?"

"Good. Bad. Both, I guess," Bunny replied. After a quick catch-up, which was all they could afford, they had to get right down to business.

"Gangsters, cultists, and terrorists. Those are the three main groups of criminals who've been hurting your sisters the moment they were tasked with law enforcement. They're all here tonight, looking to do worse," the Head of Intelligence, Rook, said dramatically. The bare mention of her sisters being hurt in any way had gotten Bunny's attention quite easily. Got her pumped and ready to do some damage. "They're planning something. Thing is, we don't know what. Our undercover agents have been trying to unearth what it is. They're getting close, but for now, all they've gotten us is this secret meeting between the three main groups of criminals - the Lombardi, the Cult of His Promise, and the Foundation. It's good enough, and that's where you come in. General?"

"Your job here is simple, Bunny. There's going to be representatives of each faction in the warehouse Vaugh Steel Co. off Wilmark Road. Our sources counted over thirty in attendance. Kill them all, but leave a few alive for interrogation," General Blackwater described in brief. "Do this, and not only will you save your sisters the trouble, but stop these criminals from hurting them. How do you feel about this?"

"I'm not going to let them hurt my family," Bunny declared.

"Good," the general said, pleased. They would then go over the specifics of the mission - criminal profiles, the lay of the land as depicted in a map, the strategy that Bunny would use. The enhanced girl was coming up with most of her strategies on her own, mentored by the men involved in the operation.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Wilmark Road. Vaugh Steel Co.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2219.**

Bunny had been scouting the warehouse in question. The place was locked down pretty tightly. The cargo bays were completely sealed off. Most of the doors leading into the warehouse were chained shut, and only a couple were left completely open, but with each guarded by several men. That was not to say that each sealed entrance was left unguarded, however. Gunmen would keep watch over the doors from windows high above, ensuring that any attempt to breach them wouldn't go unnoticed.

It was perfect. While the hated criminals were doing the sensible thing by digging in and defending their position, their strategy could easily be turned against them.

Bunny would insert herself into the zone through a shipping container yard spread out before one of the entrances. She had to slow down to avoid kicking up too much snow and getting seen, but in the eyes of a normal human being - not that anyone had seen her - she would be running beyond the sprinting speed of even an athlete. Dodging from container to container, she made her way towards one of the entrances, sticking to the shadows, her bright, glowing and purple eyes hidden away behind night-vision goggles.

She could see her targets perfectly. Three men, probably Lombardi soldatos based on their immaculate suits and fedora hats and jackets, were huddled around an oil drum repurposed as a furnace, ablaze with their campfire. It was otherwise dark around them - perfect cover for the gang members should they need it, Bunny thought, based on her training. Too bad that it was good for her too.

She was able to get within yards of them and still remain in cover. The shipping containers she was hiding amongst had brought her that far. It was perfect. She drew her knife - even suppressed firearms with subsonic rounds would be too loud in the middle of nowhere and at night.

And then she struck. Ran up to the first man she targeted and ran him through with her combat knife, tossed him aside before jumping on a second and slicing through his throat. It was only when a second body hit the floor that the last man standing realized what was going on, and the shock of seeing a girl in some futuristic, dark purple armor had rendered him mute as he gasped and fumbled for his shotgun. He couldn't even bring it to bear when Bunny jumped past him and sliced his throat cleanly in two.

Without stopping and waiting around, Bunny began dragging the bodies into the shadows, out of sight, out of mind, piling them into a corner at one location rather than three - less chance of discovery that way. With the guards no longer a problem, Bunny got up to the entrance they were protecting and shut it. She looked around the double doors. There were no chains, no padlocks, no real way to secure the door. She thought about using the ropes she had, but they would be too easy to cut through. She would have to improvise. One of the men had a hunting rifle. Picking it up, she broke off the wooden parts and twisted the barrel around the handles of the double doors as if they were rubber, and made sure they were tight. The only way to open the doors then would be to either take them off their hinges or blow them up. Either way, she'd know to slaughter anyone who dared to.

Sprinting silently around the warehouse, clearing two sides in a matter of seconds while careful not to give off any energy emissions, Bunny leaned against the wall at a corner. Taking a peek around the corner, she spotted five men, though she couldn't be sure if the two hooded figures among them were male. Cultists among what looked like a ragtag bunch of misfits. Terrorists. She knew the looks from her briefing.

The second group was more challenging. Their greater numbers notwithstanding, Bunny knew about the cultists - they tend to carry weapons dangerous to enhanced beings like her, though they usually come in the form of bladed weapons. The terrorists, on the other hand, used Duranium in their firearms with varying degrees of safety and success. There were cars and vans parked among tall and wide trucks all around them which would suffice as cover.

Hopping from car to car, van to van, Bunny searched for the best angle to launch her strike, and when she finally found it, she pulled her suppressed pistol out. She had deliberately sought out a hiding spot that was further away so that the sound of her subsonic rounds discharge wouldn't reach the interior of the warehouse. Sitting behind her car, she weighed the risks; there was still a chance that someone inside could hear her. If he was close enough to the entrance, he just might - Bunny hadn't seen anyone at the entrance itself, but it didn't mean that he wasn't there. If only she had Blossom's x-ray vision!

There was no other way to go about this.

After taking a deep breath, Bunny popped out of her cover and unloaded several shots at her targets. Three went down while she sprinted towards the remaining two. Before they could so much as shout or radio in the attack, however, Bunny had already jumped and put her knife through the throat of one and pistol-whipped the other, who fell backward from the force, clutching his jaw.

The last man was a cultist, dressed almost like a civilian. The tattoos gave him away. His lower jaw was broken, and so shouting became a near-impossibility to him. The cultist pulled some kind of a machete out, and as Bunny jumped on him to put her knife through his eye socket, she felt the long blade slicing past her cheek.

It was over within seconds. But Bunny felt something wet dribbling down her face, and it wasn't sweat. It was different somehow, a little more viscous. She wiped it away instinctively, only for some of it to splash on the snowy floor, painting it red. Blood. She looked at her glove. Blood, and it was hers. The pain didn't come until she saw it.

She gasped, teared up.

"This is Rook to B-50. I've been listening through the audio feed. Report," a voice came through her earpiece. Bunny ran up to the warehouse and hid before its wall.

"I'm hurt," Bunny cried. It'd come as a shock. She hadn't been hurt since... General Blackwater's lesson on interrogation resistance.

"How bad is it?" came General Blackwater's voice, which comforted her. He sounded as if he was butting in urgently, no doubt rushing to her aid.

"T-there's a cut on my cheek," Bunny said, her voice shivering. She was still cupping her cheek with a hand. The bleeding had since stopped, but it was still burning there.

"Bunny, it's not that bad," General Blackwater said over the radio. But Bunny had barely heard it. Memories were coming back. The general cutting her arm up. The waterboarding. She couldn't help but hyperventilate.

"Bunny, stop. Listen to me-" the general said when he heard her panting over the radio, struggling to even function.

"I can't!" she cried.

"Listen to me," he said. He had a hunch as to why Bunny was reacting so severely to such a minor wound, besides the fact that she was little over a week old. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you back then."

"You're sorry?" she said, calming down a little. 'Sorry' was the last word she expected to hear from the general's lips. It meant something, and it had to be big that he would say it.

"I didn't want to. But you are strong, and I wanted you to be stronger," the general comforted her, though it wouldn't really qualify as comforting to a regular person. To Bunny, it was something else. "You're better than this, Bunny, I've always known. What I did to you back then was bad. This? This is nothing. Get up, Bunny. Make your father proud."

'Dad…' Bunny thought. She had to be stronger for him. She remembered her responsibilities. She had to keep her family safe. If she were to fail now, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup would be next in line to fight crime, and the last time they went out, they came back looking horrible. She couldn't help but imagine that they would be worse off the next time. Perhaps coming back with a few more new orifices each, or even with missing appendages or limbs.

"Yes, General Blackwater," Bunny said more firmly. Wiping away tears and sweat and blood, she went on with the mission, closing and barring the second exit from the warehouse. For good measure, she smashed the tail-light of a car, hotwired it and drove it right up next to the double-doors to block it.

Getting out of the car, she sprinted towards another corner of the warehouse, close to where the power room was. She had memorized the map while she was in the unmarked USDO SUV with the general, so navigation wasn't even a concern. The window was high up, near ceiling-height, but Bunny was able to jump and shove her hands through the glass with ease, grabbing hold of the edge. Pulling herself up, she vaulted it and landed on the floor inside silently. There was a hum. A transformer was working tirelessly within and beside it was a power box…


	86. Chapter 80: Shadow War (Part 2)

**Chapter 80: Shadow War (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Wilmark Road. Vaugh Steel Co.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2225.**

"-not to mention Bossman has them under his thumb," Fedele Palladino, one of a few executors working under Bossman, said while he was spinning his car keys on his index finger. Agent Truman, one of Rook's undercover officers, have been listening intently to the conversation held around a round table. He had infiltrated Townsville's biggest crime family since even before the USDO had changed their name and established themselves in the city.

"Good – do you have a trap waiting for them? Stupid and clumsy as they are, these 'Powderpuff Girls' are still a problem. An itch that really needs some scratching. Fuck an itch – they're a full-blown rash! They took out one of our secret hideouts in a bunker just outside Townsville. Did it cleaner than usual too. They're becoming an even bigger threat!" one of the Foundation's high-echelon members said, the same man who had recruited Mojo Jojo into their ranks.

"Why not just sic your monkey at them if you're so afraid of them?" Fedele asked.

"He's busy. He's been testing some new weapons. And… he's been working on something big. I can't say what yet," the Foundation executive said.

"Well, my bosses have a use for them. They've got a use for everything," Fedele said casually. "It's best not to interrupt him."

"My master has spoken about the Shadowkins, friends…" Leopold Sutton, visionary of the Cult of His Promise, said. He had been meditating quietly in his corner of the table, only to open up when Fedele least expected it. He turned to the Foundation rep. "Your bunker wasn't assailed by the 'Powerpuff Girls'. There's a new force at work, something deadlier… someone more… potent."

"Who?" Fedele asked. He'd stopped twirling his car keys.

"She's here," Leopold said.

The lights went out immediately after that.

The representatives of the various criminal factions in Townsville weren't without company. Flashlights were switched on, and soon, lances of light were penetrating the darkness. However, they were like strings, and short ones at it in the engulfing void. The representatives' right hands began radioing for their eyes at the entrances to explain the intrusion, only for nothing to come back.

Fedele himself had his own flashlight, and when he shined it on Leopold, he realized that the cultic leader was gone, whisked away somehow. The first thing on his mind wasn't that he was a dirty coward, but that he wished he could go with him, however way he did it. It was only through a late reaction that he became angry with the cult leader.

"Sutton, you yellow little scumbag!" the Lombardi executor bellowed.

"Friend of His Promise," another ethereal voice said. The big man shined his light on the source. It was a gaunt and tall but thin woman in a red cloak. Beside her were two more red cloaks. They were all bereft of clothes underneath their all-covering cloaks. They drew their strength from the strange eldritch weapons in their hands. "He left only under His guidance. We will stay in his stead to combat this misguided shadowkin… thing. Our loyalty is genuine, let us prove it to you."

There was the sound of metal clanging. Guns were raised, cocked and readied. Men shook as they realized that they weren't dealing with The Powerpuff Girls - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup wouldn't have been so subtle and tactical. They would have blown a hole through the docking bay shutters, declare their intentions and made themselves available for their firing squads - they were nearly impossible to beat by mundane standards, but 'nearly' was the key there. At least they could be seen and dealt with.

Cardboards fell next in the distance from a completely different direction. Gangsters and terrorists turned their guns towards it, some hollering as many different ideas for winning, or even losing gracefully, as there were people.

The cultists with their swords had a different idea. They'd turned and run in a different direction, disappearing into the shadows.

"Great, just great! Steve, you take your group and flush her out!" Fedele ordered. Some six men advanced towards the shelves where they thought the… whatever it was that was attacking them… could last be heard.

"Gage, take your Duranium gun and join them," the Foundation leader ordered. A seventh man went along with the gangsters, lugging along a sniper rifle.

It had fallen deafeningly quiet after that. One could hear a pin drop in such an enclosed space. Then it'd happened again. What sounded something literally like a pin dropping could be heard from another angle. Already nervous, the twenty or so men remaining around the center of the warehouse shifted their aim in that general direction.

More men were sent away to deal with that.

"Where the hell is she?" Fedele muttered. He took his old tommy gun from his table and cocked it. Holding it in one hand, he wiped some sweat on his forehead away with the back of his hand. He waited, and waited. Panic threatened to take him, so he went for his radio in the hopes of goodness. Depressing the call button, he radioed Steve: "Hey Steve, you found anything? Tell me it's just some rats and a busted power line!"

At least, Fedele thought he heard rats even while the lights were on and their meeting was ongoing.

Something else other than his button man answered that question for him. A sudden flash of light, accompanied by the ground shaking and a truly deafening explosion. Shelves were knocked down along with their industrial contents. Steve or one of his men had tripped a claymore.

Shortly after that, another explosion rocked the warehouse, this time coming from a second group. Men fell along with boxes full of machine parts. Shrapnel had ripped everything apart. A grenade, either trapped or thrown. Either way, someone was killing them off.

Fedele's group was forced to form a messy, panicked circle, just a hair-trigger away from running. The prospect of tripping another trap prevented them from breaking.

When the dust settled, they could hear something skittering on metal. Guns were trained in all directions, but it didn't sound like they were coming from anywhere the compass could point. Fedele had to wipe the sweat off his forehead again, and even then, it was blinding him.

Up. He gave a shout and pointed his tommy gun and flashlight up. It'd occurred to him a little too late. Bullets rained down on him and his group. Men fell, their guns blazing but most weren't hitting anything. Fedele felt a bullet zip through his leg. He couldn't even stand anymore and fell screaming.

It was her. The someone - or something - who was deadlier and more potent. And it came in the form of another Girl, bigger than the others, a whole lot smarter too for pulling what she pulled. And she was coming down, MP5 still putting shots through flesh. By the time she'd landed on three limbs, crouched, however, it was clicking and not all of them were down.

A Foundation terrorist pointed his gun at her, only for it to be knocked away and quickly when the Fourth Girl smacked it away. She retaliated with a punch, shattering the man's skull. The terrorist fell in a heap, dead.

Fedele himself tried to fight back. He fired his tommy gun at her, hoping that it might just knock her out long enough for him to crawl away, but the Girl in purple had sprinted up to him at the speed of a car and seized his firearm. With a single twist, she'd broken it in two. He felt a punch next, then nothing after that.

The lights came on again. Whether someone had turned it back on or the machines had reset, it mattered little. His vision was like frosted glass after that, but he could see her well enough, in her fullest glory; an armored angel, armed as if for Armageddon. He found himself actually admiring her, and wishing he had a kid like her - and he would have been friendly to her had he not been at the business end of her gun.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Wilmark Road. Vaugh Steel Co.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2235.**

Removing her night-vision goggles, Bunny looked down at one of her enemies, one of those who could have hurt her family had she not intervened. Tempted to kill him, she decided not to only because she remembered her objective. A few of them had to be kept alive for questioning, and she really hoped that she would get to do some of the questionings.

Heavy footsteps. Boots. A few of the men she shot had gotten up to run away. She drew her suppressed pistol and fired a few rounds. Two to kill, one to maim a leg. They all fell almost simultaneously, a testament to her gunplay.

"Hyaaaah!" someone screamed with exertion behind the voice. Loud. Bunny turned to the source only to be faced with a red-cloaked swinging two swords at her. Hopping out of the way, Bunny felt cuts on her arm nonetheless. Whether it would mean injury or just repair for her suit was anybody's guess. Bunny seized the woman by the arm while she was recovering and jumped on her, pulling her to the ground. Her other arm was swinging a sword wildly, but with the position and angle she had on the floor, she couldn't even dream of hitting Bunny.

Bunny gave her arm a twist so hard that it was pulled out of its socket. The woman screamed. Pulling her suppressed pistol out, she aimed it at her head, deciding if she should add the cultic swordswoman to her collection of captured criminals.

She fired a round - but not at the swordswoman. Her companion had been hiding in the shadows, aiming a gun at her, no doubt holding Duranium ammunition or he wouldn't have been discreet about it. The cultic gunman fell. A third tried to charge her, only to lose an eye and fell towards her in the middle of it, dead. Bunny had decided. Training her pistol on the swordswoman's leg, she fired another round. The woman screamed.

It was over. More or less. Bunny had seen what happened when her traps around the edges of the warehouse exploded. Most of the men caught in the blasts were dead, but not all of them. There were likely a few who would still fit enough to move, and they would no doubt try to escape. They wouldn't make it very far…

Especially when SWAT teams from the TPD and soldier squads of the USDO began breaking through the sealed doors and arresting them. They were able to do it as Bunny had already taken out the sparse few guards watching over the sealed doors, something she had done so well with knife and garrote wires that most of the criminals in the warehouse weren't aware of it.

Sitting down on a nearby box, Bunny began examining the damage the cultic swordswoman had inflicted. Her swords had made two massive cuts on the left upper arm of her kevlar suit. Opening it up, she saw rips in her uniform. There was blood, but not an overflowing amount. The wounds weren't even skin deep. The armor had done its job, despite being made of stuff weaker than Duranium.

"You okay, Bunny?" Bunny heard General Blackwater's voice and she turned to beam at him.

"It's only a cut," she said while smiling at Blackwater, who couldn't help but smile back at her for having assimilated his lessons so well. "You said I'm strong and you're right."

"Good work, Bunny," Rook said as he came up to them. All around them, soldiers were restraining whatever remained of the criminal coalition who were still breathing. Bunny's eyes darted impassively to the cultic swordswoman, who screamed as if she was being burned at the stake when a soldier shoved her dislocated arm back into its socket roughly and cuffed her. In the meantime, General Blackwater had called for a medic, who came over to take a look at Bunny. He'd began to clean her wounds when the general continued:

"There's something else that could use your attention, Bunny," he said when he got down on a knee beside her. Bunny winced when the USDO medic started dabbing her wounds with antiseptic. "Are you up for it?"

Bunny smiled at the general, this time maniacally. She'd achieved something here in this warehouse. Saved her sisters from lots of pain, perhaps even their lives. If there was more she could do, it was like being asked if she wanted more candy.

"Who do I kill?" Bunny asked straight off. The general grinned. He got up and sat down beside Bunny on her wooden crate. The crate creaked as if it was in agony, but thankfully, it didn't shatter and ruin the moment.

"Remember when I said that betrayal can come from unexpected places?" the general said frankly.

"Yes…" Bunny replied, feeling a wave of nervousness in her, even though she wasn't sure why. "Who is it, General Blackwater?" The general had seen the way she reacted to it and thought that the way she was taking such grave matters was admirable.

"Oh, don't worry about it, they're not anyone you know," he quickly reassured her. "You see, there are some police officers who have betrayed - are betraying - their own. Instead of helping to enforce the law, they break it in secret instead, hurting everyone around them just to turn a buck."

"Police officers can do that?" Bunny asked. She had learned about police officers from a very, very early age. Dad had taught her about them while teaching her to speak and recognize things. Even in black ops training, it wasn't something that was emphasized. Sure, she'd learned that the USDO could betray their own, but the police?

"Yes, and quite often too, at least here in Townsville," the general said. His mind raced through the trigger - words he would say to get Bunny riled up. That was how it worked, and that was what contributed to her effectiveness. "And this time, we have police officers who are betraying your sisters."

"They… they're hurting my sisters?" Bunny asked, straightening up. To say that she wasn't pleased to hear that was an understatement.

"Not directly. But they're making sure that Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup's work is wasted, even beneficial to the criminals. Your orders are simple…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Slums. Former Exposito Family Headquarters**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2254.**

Bunny crept closer to the location in question. General Blackwater's orders were still resounding clearly in her head. She remembered that she was reloading her guns when she received those instructions. She remembered unjamming her MP5 as it had malfunctioned during her raid on the warehouse and while she was doing so, she was listening.

Peeking around a corner, she saw a couple of policemen guarding the entrance of an old, decrepit apartment building. One of them was sitting on a chair was the other was leaning against a wall. Both of them looked like they were freezing despite the jackets, gloves, and scarves they were.

"Wonder what the hell they're doing inside. Why wouldn't they let us in? We're freezing out here," the officer leaning against the wall was saying while he was rubbing his hands, then folding his arms around his chest. He was younger than the other, perhaps mid-twenties. Bunny knew, because she'd been shown pictures of people of varying ages during her training.

"You know why, kid. 'Cause we're different from them," the older one, perhaps mid-forties, said while sitting on his chair.

"Different?"

"There's two kinds of officers here in this city, kid. They're in there and we're out here," the older one clarified further.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you even make the transfer from Citysville anyway?" the old cop asked. "Peace and safety too boring for you there?"

"It's not exactly peaceful and safe there. It's just smoke and cockroaches there. If I stay any longer, it'd be a decade of my lifespan missing. Besides, I thought I can do more good here," the younger cop explained. "I want to see the Powerpuff Girls. I'm sure I'm not the only one. The world's crazy about them. There's no shortage of vacancies here, so I took a spot."

"Welcome to Townsville then. Like I said, there're two kinds of officers here. The smart ones and the dumb ones, the winners and the losers. Guess which one's us?" the older cop said. He crossed his legs.

"We're the winners, right? The Powerpuff Girls have our backs, right? Saw them on the news the other day. They kicked the Yakuza's ass to kingdom come, those same cut-throats who helped push the FBI out!" the younger cop said with childish enthusiasm and optimism, which the older cop scoffed at.

"The Powerpuff Girls ain't shit. They've been knocking out the little guys, the competition. They haven't touched the big boys yet. Gee, I wonder why?" the older cop said cynically. Bunny, who'd been listening closely, didn't like the way the old man talked about her sisters. Not at all. "Maybe they're cowards. Maybe they're weak. Well, I'll tell you why - I'm betting they're already in the pocket of the Amoeba Boys, just like half the city, and it's about to get a whole lot worse."

"Then why are you the loser? Why not join the winning team?" the younger cop questioned his older counterpart, upset by what the veteran had said. "Why stay out here with me and risk dying from the cold or the bums?"

The old cop laughed. "Old habit, I guess. Got nothing else to live for."

"You and me both," the younger cop agreed.

Bunny had heard enough. Jumping out of cover, she fired two well-placed shots, one going through the head of the younger cop while the other was aimed at the heart of the older cop, who fell out of his chair. The older cop was able to pull his service pistol out despite his injury. Bunny sprinted up to him to kick it out of the way before putting her foot in his face.

The old cop was still alive, fighting for every breath he took, his hand clutching his chest wound. Bunny's orders were clear. She was to kill everyone at the crime scene. No survivors, no witnesses. It was the very nature of black ops that Bunny was resigned to, especially considering the fact that anyone in her path was a liability who'd likely betray her or her family for what she would do. That was what General Blackwater said, and Rook had repeated his assertion.

Bunny gazed at the old cop's face, so drawn with wrinkles and now lined with pain. She felt pity for the man, but at the same time anger for having called Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup names - after everything they'd done for the city! She pointed her suppressed pistol at his head and fired another round.


	87. Chapter 81: Shadow War (Part 3)

**Chapter 81: Shadow War (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. The Slums. Former Exposito Family Headquarters**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2256.**

When Bunny barged through the front door of the old apartment that was the former Exposito headquarters, another couple of police officers were already heading towards her, attracted by the noise outside that didn't sound like the usual gunshot. Bunny's submachinegun was already up, so she was able to put bullets through their skulls before they could draw and train their pistols on her.

Two more officers were headed down the stairs when Bunny executed their colleagues in the lobby. They drew their sidearms.

"Police! Freeze!" one of them yelled, but Bunny didn't care. She imagined that they weren't police officers. Police officers wouldn't bully her sisters when their backs were turned. They traded shots, but the officers didn't stand a chance as their small-caliber bullets simply bounced off her face or armor. The officers were instantly dead.

But they'd gotten off a couple of shots. It could mean alerting the others. Sprinting to the elevator, she pressed the call button to summon it. The shutters - it was an old building - opened and the elevator sat waiting. Dashing in, she dug into the control panel and tore the controls out wholesale so no one could use it.

Bunny sprinted upwards, clearing floor after floor. She'd read the reports back at the Vaugh Steel Co. Warehouse. The Exposito Crime Family had occupied the top floor, so it made sense for the rest of the corrupt cops to be there. Stragglers emerging before or after she'd swept the penthouse suite clean would be shot on sight by USDO agents.

When she reached the top floor, she had to skulk around every corner, from the stairs to around the stairwell, then into the corridor connecting the top floor penthouses to the rest of the building. She expected the corrupt cops to swarm her - it was their only hope of ever beating her - but there was no resistance to be quashed, at least not in the corridor.

She knew which apartment they were in. She could hear them through the walls. It helped that there was a hole in the wall, large enough for her to enter, and so she did. It was already dark out in the corridor, and it was pitch black inside, so she pulled her night-vision goggles down and switched it on. She squeaked the moment she saw what was inside; there were rats writhing inside the walls, and they swarmed past her when she entered it, agitated by her presence. Shifting deeper inside the walls, she listened to the conversations in the penthouse:

"-Took us forever to find the damn safe," someone said. A male voice with an Italian accent to it. "And now what? It's taking forever for us to crack the damn safe."

"Didn't help that we can't grab one of those safe-crackers to do the job for us," another person said. A female voice.

"USDO's been turning the screws really tightly on the street gangers," another man said. "Everyone's laying low for now. Wouldn't want to get Powerpuffed. Heard those little nutcrackers can be really brutal. Ah, at least this way, we'd each get a bigger share."

"Any moment now…" another voice, male, said. Bunny could guess that there were at least four bent cops in the penthouse.

"Can't it go any faster?" the first officer pressed whoever was working on the safe.

"Sorry man, this one's tough. The Expositos may be living in a poor neighborhood, but they sure invested in a good safe. It's hard to hear the gears inside and your yelling isn't helping," one of the officers said, frustrated.

Bunny was able to shift herself into the walls of the room the officers were in. With the need for stealth, her enhanced speed was a liability should she draw on it, but her small size had made up for it. Soon, she was poised to strike the treacherous officers for their crimes…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Slums. Former Exposito Family Headquarters**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2259.**

"Almost got it…" Officer Thomas mumbled to himself as he listened intently for the gears in the safe through his stethoscope. The gears were incredibly tricky in this one, with lots of false positives. He had to fail dozens of times to get the feel of it. It'd given him that Thomas Edison feeling, though. He knew he had to try and try again to get results. He knew five of the numbers. The last one had been eluding him until now when he finally heard an audible click. Laughing maniacally, he pulled open the safe's door to find exactly what he'd dreamed of all this time - stacks upon stacks of thousand-dollar greenbacks, all sorts of jewelry and a several designer watches. There were even a few gold bars hidden in there when he lifted some of the bricks of dollar bills. "Gotcha!"

"Jesus! We're rich!" Officer Cromwell, the ringleader of the corrupt cops, shouted with joy. He should be happy. He estimated at least a couple millions' worth of dough and valuables in there, likely more, and even if the Amoeba Boys took their 50% cut of the heist, each member of his merry band would walk home with a hundred and seventy thousand, easy. To a police officer, it was a few years' worth of salary, and a step closer to retirement.

"Yeah!" Officer Jane screamed. "Fiji, here I come!"

"Luck's finally on our side!" the last officer, Officer Maclean said. His optimism, however, didn't last very long when something burst through the half-rotten wall of the penthouse guestroom, creating a plume of decades-old dust, sending fragments and shrapnel everywhere that had the corrupt officers covering their faces and scattering, trying to hide.

"Hell's going on!?" Jane screamed.

"T-this never happened before!" Cromwell yelled over noise that had already gone.

Through the dust, a pair of ghoulish purple lights shone through. The corrupt cops didn't make the connection immediately. They were wary of possible Powerpuff intervention, but those eyes had been bright pink, blue and green. The purple lights struck them as something belonging to a power panel at first, but the frightening look of it had them drawing their sidearms.

But then bullets came flying out of the dust, whipping through it and tearing into Cromwell. Bullets were flying at random after that, and the three other cops hit the deck. Whoever it was on the other side of the dust cloud had been aiming based on sound.

The cops fired back, unloading everything they got, but as the dust was clearing, something flew out of it undeterred – running at the speed of a truck and putting a knife through Jane's forehead before she could even process what she saw, and she never will.

The remaining cops screamed at the sight of this, and as one of them was emptying what remained of his magazine and the other was reloading, what appeared to be a heavily-equipped eight-year-old snapped off a chain used to pull the safe out and up from under the floorboards and charged Maclean with it. With gritted teeth and too much anger in her eyes than was natural for a little kid, the brunette killer-girl swung the chain at Maclean, and the end of the broken chain cut a swathe through the uniform and flesh of his chest. He fell, sidearm clattering on the floor. He'd wanted to beg for mercy but couldn't when the heavily-armored creature of a girl swung the chain at him a second time, this time cutting a deep swathe through his face, just under the eyes and through his nose, taking the latter out entirely and leaving it hanging by a thin strip of bloody skin.

The last man alive, Thomas the safecracking cop, had stumbled back, terrified by what he saw. His partner-in-crime was a mess on the floor, blood pooling under his head, face torn in two, foaming at the mouth with eyes rolled up to his brains in pure agony. Thomas fell, his sidearm forgotten when the unknown Powerpuff-like girl turned to glare at him. He tried to crawl away, but his legs were like the wooden floorboards he'd destroyed to get to the safe.

"W-wait! Please!" Officer Thomas pleaded. The kid-of-death walked closer to him, the bloody chain still clutched in her gloved hands. She loomed over him, like the Grim Reaper himself, or at least his daughter. The girl stared at him dispassionately, looking like she'd just calmed down from a sugar rush, and now had to clean her room.

"What?" she asked, surprisingly, when the corrupt police officer was sure that she was incapable of it.

"Please d-don't kill me," Thomas begged, his arm still shield his face from the inevitable snap of the bloody chain. "I- just want to live! Please! You can take all the money, just please don't hurt me!"

"But I don't want money," the purple-armored killer-girl said bluntly. "I want bad guys like you to die so my sisters won't be hurt."

"Your sisters?" Thomas questioned. There were only three girls who could be the sister of such a monstrosity. "Look, I got no beef with your sisters - ur, Blossom and the rest, right?"

The specter of death seemed to pause, before pressing her fingers into a device in her ear. Thomas could see that she was wired, and someone was speaking to her. She then glared at him. "You're lying. It's nice talking to you, mister, but I'll still have to kill you."

The inevitability of it had somehow made Thomas braver.

"You little bitch! You fucking whore!" the cop yelled at the top of his lungs, and the girl seemed taken aback by his foul language, of all things. As she pulled her sidearm out, he continued to hurl all sorts of verbal attacks at her, perhaps because nothing else had worked: "Your fucking sisters will burn in hell, you sick fuck! I was just trying to earn a living! Who are you to judge!?"

The little girl with the mean teeth didn't seem pleased with his words. Not at all. She returned her pistol to its holster. Somehow, that seemed more terrifying than when she was armed. Thomas stared at her pistol, a little horrified, but he'd hardly missed a beat, as he had nothing more to lose.

"Ain't my fault the water's polluted here and I had to fall in line with the order of things!" Thomas yelled as if it was his last day on Earth because it was. "I hope Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup gets torn apart by the city! Yeah, they'll die slow 'cause fuck you and your stupid midget sisters!"

The eight-year-old in heavy armor started forward, ugly teeth and small fists clenched.

"Bet your sisters are selfish little brats just like everyone else! Bet they're working for themselves!" Thomas continued to cry, at first loudly, then literally when the girl seized him by his hair and lifted him off his butt. "Bet they're criminals just like you and me! No, no, NO!"

The little girl had punched Officer Thomas in the chest so hard that her fist had gone past his ribcage. He could feel her fingers wriggling in there and he could barely muster a scream at this point. Finally, he felt her hand close in on his core before retracting, pulling a big chunk of him out, dripping in blood and gore and skin.

The girl had pulled his heart out, and it was still beating right in front of him as he was losing consciousness. But there was mercy after all; he didn't last very long after that.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Slums. Former Exposito Family Headquarters**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2305.**

"Status, Bravo-fifty," Rook's voice blasted Bunny's ear as she dropped the heart she ripped out of the enemy police officer right in front of her. She rubbed her hand on her armor. The blood had stained her deeply, and she wanted to get it off. It felt as if she couldn't. Something felt wrong with what she had done, even though the evidence that the people she killed were bad people were right before her. It wasn't just because these people were wearing police uniforms, or that they were real police officers. It was something else, something her young mind just couldn't quite grasp. "Sitrep, now!"

Bunny jumped when Rook yelled through the radio into her ear.

"Bravo-fifty. Eight tangos dead. I think that's all of them, over," Bunny replied.

"Good. Do not go silent like that again, Bravo-fifty, over," Rook replied.

"How do you feel, Bunny?" General Blackwater's voice came on as a hissing whisper as if a voice in her head.

"I- I don't know," Bunny said as she continued to look around her. She'd never, ever forget the minutest details of the battle, just like how she would never forget the number of diapers her Dad had put on her or the color and feel of the pacifier he'd given her briefly. The officer with his face torn in two by a chain. The woman-cop with that big, ugly hole in her forehead. The grey-haired cop she shredded with bullets first thing when she entered the penthouse properly. Upfront on ground floor, something in the two cops she killed resonated with her, but she'd killed them even though she suspected they were innocent.

"I know how you feel. Your Dad taught you not to kill, and you've been doing it over and over," the general said. "I'm sorry you're born into this, but the world is more complex than your father thinks. You're doing the world a great service, Bunny. I can promise you that."

"They're police officers…" Bunny mumbled into her face-mounted mic.

"Bad ones. Remember that.."

"Not all of them…" Bunny muttered on her own, forcing her eyes shut as she willed herself not to cry. She knew she had to be strong, and General Blackwater said that to not cry is strong. She then said into the radio: "Are there… others?"

"No, Bunny. Go home and take a break. Have a good night's sleep. You've earned it," the general said. Bunny could just about feel his smile through the radio.

"Good night, General Blackwater. Nighty-night, Mister Rook," Bunny bade them farewell, and they did the same in turn, almost in unison over the radio.

Bunny raced down the stairwell after that. She couldn't wait to see Dad and her elder sisters again. Maybe they might distract her from what she had done.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**02 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2324.**

A bike roared through the suburbs before stopping by The House. The lights were still on, and so Bunny hurried up and wheeled her bike into the garage quickly because she knew what it meant. As soon as she was through the door, Dad was waiting for her. She walked up to him, almost breaking into a jog, and hugged him.

"How's work, honey?" he asked.

"Bad. I missed you every second," she said. Behind him, Bunny saw someone rise up from behind a sofa, standing on the seat. Red, flaming hair, tired eyes. Blossom. Dad heaved and managed to get Bunny up on his arm despite the heavyweight. He noticed that she'd been looking behind him and turned, wondering what she was looking at. It was Blossom, of course.

"See? Your sister loves you. She's been up all night waiting for you," Dad said, then laughed. "She's never been more disobedient in her entire life!"

Professor Utonium's comment made Blossom's smile go from pure to bitter. She knew better that she'd been more disobedient before, and it was still a fact for every second she'd kept her killings outside The House a secret. It was a wonder, she thought, that he hadn't found out about them yet, but luck does pop out at the strangest of times.

"Thanks, sis," Bunny said, then flashed her crooked-teeth smile. The professor saw it and started wondering.

"You know, we ought to straighten that out," he said. Bunny shut her mouth when he said this, at which point he laughed again. "You're beautiful no matter what, Bunny. You're my daughter. You can't be any less."

"Thanks, Dad," Bunny said as Dad was carrying her towards the stairs. She looked down at Blossom, who was following. The elder sister was yawning and her eyebags were showing. Bunny was just glad that she wasn't frowning.

"So what did you do today?" Blossom asked, curious as to what she had missed, or was even saved from. She imagined that Bunny could have been fighting against Naga, or Mojo Jojo, or even the dreaded purple chameleon demon that was Lumpkin. That she had returned with almost no wounds was testimony that she'd won, no matter who it was.

"Just… things…" Bunny stumbled, unsure of what to say as there was nothing she was allowed to say, though there were things she would rather keep secret, such as the fact that she had just killed eight police officers, even if they were corrupt. Well, at least most of them. "I can't talk about it…"

And just like that, Blossom gave Bunny that dreaded frown, sure that her younger sister was being a snob now that she was slowly taking over their crime-fighting role.

On the second floor, Professor Utonium was bathing Bunny. Blossom was back in bed at the behest of the professor. It was late, and yet Bunny wasn't tired. She never was when she was with her Dad. Add to that her halved need for sleep and she was still an Energizer Bunny even as midnight drew closer. If anything, the professor was more exhausted than she was despite his non-physical work demands.

"Are you sure you can't tell me about what you did outside?" he managed to slip his question into their conversation.

"No…" Bunny said timidly as she was playing with the water while the professor shampooed her hair. "General Blackwater said its classified."

The professor hated it when she said that, though in his mind, Bunny shared none of the blame and the general all of it. To not be able to talk freely with his own daughter was bad, worse even, than the fact that they were fighting crime in the place of adults. It was something he would have to take up with the general.

"How's the arm, by the way?" he asked. He lifted Bunny's injured arm out of the water to inspect the wound. It was healing rapidly. The scabs would likely peel off within an hour or two, and then it'd be completely gone another hour or two later.

"It doesn't hurt anymore…" Bunny said. "I'm fine Dad."

But what she didn't tell him was how much she hurt on the inside.


	88. Chapter 82: A Special Day (Part 1)

**Chapter 82: A Special Day (Part 1)**

'I wish I can tell you my stories Dad, just like how you've been telling me stories at bedtime. I really want to. But I can't. General Blackwater said it's not a good idea. He's nice, Dad. I really wish the two of you could be friends. I heard you yelling into the phone at him and he yelled back. I hate it when the two of you fight.

I know you're trying to protect me, Dad. But it's okay. You don't have the powers I have, and maybe sometimes it's okay for me to protect you. That's what General Blackwater said, and I believe in him. Look at me and what I've become! He helped me become a soldier so I can protect you and Mom and Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.

It's too bad I didn't get to hear about Daedalus and Icarus last night. I really want to know what happened to them. Maybe I'll get to hear about them tonight if there are no missions to go to.' - Bunny Utonium, 03/03/89, 0503. Sound Record File 5.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten Complex.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1015.**

The day had started quietly for Bunny, a huge contrast for her double-mission night the previous day. But she enjoyed it. It was times like this she lived for. Even Blossom, who was angry because of her refusal to talk about her mission, seemed to have cooled down. She was all smiles and chatty with Bubbles, and though Buttercup seemed cold and distant, it was better than being punched in the face by her.

Breakfast went by, then commuting and the morning lessons. After that, it was recess. When Bunny and her elder sisters went out into the schoolyard, she had a good feeling about it, owing to the streak she was having the entire day. Blossom hadn't blown up, and Bubbles hadn't shed a single tear so far. Buttercup hadn't punched her in the face yet.

It got even better when Blossom decided to continue teaching Bunny how to fly. Though the lesson didn't last long, Bunny was able to learn much in such a short span of time. Where previously she could only slow her descend or launch herself in some random direction in a bid to avoid crashing, she now had full control over her double-jump, giving her a reliable method of reaching heights up to several floors by jumping. True flight, however, was still out of Bunny's grasp. She simply couldn't maintain her thrust or master the fine control well enough.

"Girls! The phone's ringing!" Miss Keane had called from the back door leading to the schoolyard. Blossom flew after the phone the moment she did, followed by Bubbles, Buttercup and Bunny.

It was different this time. There was no Detective Mullens, or Mister Blake, or even the mysterious police chief from Precinct 77.

"Bravo-Four-Seven, you and The Powerpuff Girls - God I hate that name - will report to the 37th Jump Street on the request of the Townsville Police Department," the man on the other end said.

"What for, mister… what's your name?" Blossom asked.

"Police Chief Feig mentioned that you will be part of a task force to bring down another gang," the man said without introducing himself. But what he said was enough to finally piece together another mystery - the police chief from Precinct 77, as it turned out, had a name after all.

"Can you hand the phone over to Bravo-Five-Zero?" the demanding man said, which was definitely different. For one thing, Blossom had never heard of a Bravo-Five-Zero before, and as if the mystery man on the side of the line could read her mind, he went on to make things clearer: "Hand the phone over to Bunny. Now."

Without another word, Blossom pulled the phone off her ear and thrust it at Bunny, who looked just as confused as Blossom. Looking down at the phone, she hesitated as if it was a brick of armed plastic explosives. But she could hear the voice urging her to pick the 'damn thing up' with her enhanced hearing, so she did.

"Hello?" Bunny greeted the man on the phone.

"What took you? We have a special mission for you. Head down to the house at 3 Willow Street ASAP," the voice was familiar to Bunny even if it wasn't for her sisters. It was Rook, being his usual frank and no-nonsense self. "Do not bring any additional firepower and equipment. You won't be needing it." He'd hung up after that - no farewells, no good-lucks.

"You're going to fight crime too?" Bubbles asked Bunny.

"Yeah…" Bunny replied.

"Are you coming with us?" Bubbles asked enthusiastically - she'd like nothing more than to do it with Bunny, perhaps to show her the ropes as an elder sister should, or even as a way to just hang out with her.

"No…" Bunny said, which served to deflate Bubbles' excitement. "I'm sorry Mister Rook didn't like the team name. I think 'The Powerpuff Girls' is a nice name…"

Blossom thought it weird that she'd brought it up. She'd made the connection that Bunny must had overheard the name from her conversation with the mystery man, now revealed to be one Mister Rook, whoever he was. How was Bunny able to do that? First, it was Buttercup, and now her. She thought it was rude, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Am I a Powerpuff Girl?" Bunny asked, and the moment she saw how cross Blossom was just based on the glare she was giving her, she thought her chances for 'acceptance' into the team had been hurt.

"Maybe…" Blossom didn't take long to decide. With a grin, she folded her arms when she realized she'd just gained more leverage on Bunny, leverage she could use. In her view, it'd taken lots of pain and suffering for the elder trio to gain that name, and it shouldn't just be given away for free, and certainly not to Bunny, who had just started out.

"Can I be a Powerpuff Girl?" Bunny asked when she got the message.

"Well…" Blossom mulled over her options. It was interesting, after all, what she could do with it. She could certainly make Bunny do things for her. "I guess if you fight crime the way I do and tell me about your missions, you'll definitely be a Powerpuff Girl in weeks!"

"I'll do anything to be a Powerpuff Girl," Bunny exclaimed, hopeful that there was a chance she could be in the same league as her sisters. As long as there was a chance, she couldn't be anything but glad. Training had taught her that things could be done no matter the odds, as long as she worked hard towards it. Whether it was twenty or a hundred terrorists, Bunny couldn't be shaken. Similarly, it didn't matter if it was a few weeks or a few months, Bunny believed that she would surely make the cut as a Blossom-certified Powerpuff Girl eventually.

Miss Keane came up to them when they were done, respectful of the secrecy surrounding their duties. She had to be ever since she was forcefully folded into the USDO yoke.

"Going to save the day again, Girls?" she asked, the tone of her voice, the look on her face suggesting anything but gladness. She was a teacher, the best of her kind and good enough for the USDO to acquire her. Educating children was her life, and seeing them being forced into the very adult role of fighting crime was the last thing she wanted.

"Yeah. The city needs us!" Blossom exclaimed heroically. "Can we go, Miss Keane?"

"Of course, Blossom," Miss Keane said. They never needed her permission, to begin with, just the USDO's. But she found it charming that Blossom asked anyway. "Just… stick around for a whole day one of these days, okay?" When was the last time they did? Miss Keane had lost sight of it.

"I hope I get to stay too. I like learning about stuff," Blossom agreed sullenly. She then turned to Bunny with a bitter smile. "I guess that's why Bunny's here. Dad said she'll be fighting every criminal in Townsville by herself soon."

All that had done was focus Miss Keane's sadness on Bunny, who they had just admitted was next in line as the recipient of the USDO's abuse. Bunny, however, didn't see why they had to get upset over this - fighting crime was her purpose! And seeing her loved ones alive and getting to be with them was her reward! Sure, it was painful to separate from her family, Dad most of all, but wasn't that what life's like? Even a man as great as General Blackwater had to go for months without seeing his family.

"I don't mind fighting crime too!" Bunny mustered her strongest front yet.

"Just… take care of yourselves, the four of you, okay?" Miss Keane bade them as she found herself stroking Bunny in the head. If there was a Guinness world record for touching the most number of people who could kill someone in a blink, Miss Keane would be in it.

"We'll be fine," Blossom said while she was opening a window. She flew out the moment she could, leaving behind a trail of bright pink light.

"Thanks for caring, Miss Keane," Bubbles said before following the leader.

Buttercup could only give Miss Keane a lethargic stare before doing the same, something which concerned her deeply. What's gotten into Buttercup? All of a sudden, Miss Keane was beginning to miss the tomboy in her, that rowdy and rough side of Buttercup that seemed to be her usual side. Not… this, this mysterious and frankly eerie side of her.

But Miss Keane didn't have time to think. Bunny was leaving too.

"Bunny-" the kindergarten teacher stopped the purple-uniformed one before she jumped out the window. The youngest of the quartet of enhanced Girls turned to face her once more. "Thanks for being such a great sister to the rest of them. They're lucky to have you."

"I'm lucky to have them," Bunny replied. "I want to protect them. I don't care what I have to do." And with that, Bunny jumped out of the window and sprinted for her motorbike, much to the amazement of her class, who'd come to think of her as the coolest of the four, much to Blossom's chagrin - another source of resentment for her to overcome.

What Bunny had said in the end did not put Miss Keane at ease. 'I don't care what I have to do,' she had said. Miss Keane could only imagine what she had to do.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1039.**

Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup were back at the Lombardi mansion. Bubbles had already lost count of how many times because of her memory, which was weaker than her sisters'. Blossom and Buttercup did not care to count. All they cared about were the Amoeba Boys, and what they have for them next. It had been some exquisite sweets and the Jewish Mob the previous day. Who knew what it'd be next?

Things were different this time though. The driver was different. He was smaller and muted. He certainly wasn't Fedele. It was only much later on that they'd learned what happened to him, and that was when he greeted them at the grand entrance of the mansion. He was seated in a wheelchair. One of the leggings of his pants was rolled up. He was bandaged in that leg and there were still traces of blood visible in the gauze.

"What happened to your leg?" Blossom asked as she floated closer to take a look.

"Did you fall down the stairs?" Bubbles asked, concerned about the man despite her reservations for people of his ilk.

"Did you get shot at? Like all those other bad guys we killed?" Buttercup suggested callously.

"Nah, it's an accident. A little accident," Fedele Palladino revealed cryptically. "Nothing to worry about. It'll be fixed in no time."

"A little accident did that?" Blossom said, unaware of what Fedele truly meant.

"Man, normal people are so weak," Buttercup said carelessly, with not a care in the world. That had attracted a glare from Fedele, though he was quick to forgive it. Her snide remarks were a small price to pay for what she was doing for the family and would continue to do for the family. That, and the fact that she had continued to make a mess in the backseat of his car, from what he heard from the substitute mob driver.

Little did the Powerpuff Girls know that Fedele had actually encountered their younger sister, Bunny. It had been a close call, considering that the rest of his fellow mob brothers were killed in that warehouse. It didn't take a scientist to figure out the connection between Bunny and the Powerpuff Girls, but it mattered little. Sooner or later, he was going to get even with Bunny, not just for his leg, but also for the brothers he had lost. Even if what was to come might technically make that a family dispute.

"Right. Come right in. The Bosses are eager to see the three of you," Fedele quickly gestured for them to come in and follow him. Blossom and Bubbles offered to push him, but Fedele rejected their goodwill, preferring to roll under his own power.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Eastern Suburbs. 3 Willow Street.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1040.**

Following the usual standard operating procedures of any operation, Bunny dismounted from her motorcycle a fair distance from the target location of her mission, making sure to lock it up tight and hide it in the bushes of a deserted house.

3 Willow Street. Bunny had to search left and right for the house with the right address, and when she saw it, it turned out to be a house with a 'For Sale' sign pitched on the lawn. Rook was already sitting on the porch as Bunny was jogging up to the house. He got up when she came up to him, and with a hand on her shoulder, led her into the house.

"What's going on, Mister Rook? What are we doing?" Bunny was nothing but questions then. There was no one else in the house except him and two other agents, another man, and a woman. General Blackwater was nowhere to be found.

"I'm afraid your dearest general is elsewhere today, Bravo-Five-Zero," Rook said as if he could read her mind. "And today is a special day. We'll be doing something different today."

He'd kept the specifics from her and instead led her up the stairs into a bare room with just a standing mirror, a small table, and a chair. The table had some clothes on them. Some strange clothes that barely even qualified as uniforms - not military gear.

When they were there, Bunny was instructed to strip and put on a peculiar set of uniforms, though it wasn't something unknown to her. It was a brown set of uniforms, with skirts, a sash with lots of buttons and badges, short socks and a pair of matching brown hiking boots. Instead of her usual ponytail, she'd let down her hair instead, to appear more civilian and less ready for combat.

Standing in front of the mirror, Bunny marveled at herself, at how she had just transformed from an enhanced black ops operative to a seemingly ordinary girl - well, mostly ordinary. There was still one final touch left to add. Picking up a small container, she opened the two caps mounted on it. There was fluid inside, and two round and brown lenses in them. Bunny picked one up and dabbed it on her eye, then did the same for the other.

The contact lenses had done well to hide the purple from her eyes. The glow was largely negated by daytime, so it wouldn't blow her cover. At worst, her eyes would just appear lighter, or perhaps full of personality.

Bunny had just disguised herself as a girl scout. She picked up a stack of girl scout cookies on the table to complete her ruse. But something was still missing.

"What do I use as a weapon? Do I get to take my pistol with me?" Bunny asked Rook, who was admiring the work that Bunny had done - which was something, considering that she was little more than a week old. "I don't think the cookies would make good weapons…"

"I'll explain the mission in due time, darling," Rook said while walking up to her, standing behind her while putting his hands on her shoulders. They both looked at each other in the mirror. He bent down to whisper into her ear: "But I'm afraid you're going to have to improvise this time."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1045.**

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were brought to the study at the top of the mansion once more, this time with more liberal use of the elevator due to Fedele's injured leg.

Once more, the Girls were stopped before entering the Amoeba Boys' study, this time much further away and at the door of another room.

"Hey, what gives!?" Buttercup shouted at Fedele rudely. All she could think about right then were the gifts and interesting experiences the Amoeba Boys would shower her with.

"Things are going to be different this time. Let's just say it's going to be a special day," Fedele said, before opening the door. There was a rack of clothes inside. "Same rules as before. Take off your armor and leave your weapons behind. But here's a new one: put on a dress you like before you see me again. Think of it as a… party, yeah. A party you deserve…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Eastern Suburbs. 8 Blueberry Street.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1053.**

_Ding dong!_ The doorbell of the Connelly residence rang. The father of the house, Damian, happened to be in the living room despite it being a weekday. It was different this time, after all. It was a special day, just waiting to unfold. Looking up from his newspaper, he shifted his legs off the stool, wondering who on this frozen side of Earth would visit during school or work hours. Last time he checked, he hadn't invited anyone on this day - it was supposed to be a special day, after all, just him and his small, tightly-knit family.

"Who is it?" a woman's voice called out from the kitchen, amidst the sound of cooking utensils clattering in the early phase of the culinary preparation of a special lunch.

"No idea! I'll get it!" Damian said. Slapping his newspaper down on his coffee table, he got off his couch with a grunt. The doorbell continued to ring insistently. He cursed under his breath. Who could it be? He didn't dig into his accumulated leaves with the force to deal with random strangers at the door! If it was one of those cultic evangelists espousing the truth of the New Trinity or whatever bullshit they claimed to be the truth, he swore that he was going to lose it.

Coming up to the door, he looked through the peephole only to see no one there. Was it a prankster? He would have decided that it was just one of those idiotic teenage boys in his neighborhood pulling a prank had it not been for the doorbell ringing again while he was looking. He'd almost unlatched the door chain but thought better of it. His neighborhood was one of the safer ones, but he couldn't be too careful. In all his years in the Townsville Police Department, he'd learned that there was no such thing as a safe place in Townsville, and not for a few dozen miles radius from the city either. The city's cursed, that was what some of the old hats would even say.

Unlocking the door, he opened it to the fullest extent allowed by the chain. He was first greeted by a blast of late winter wind, then a most peculiar sight - a girl scout with a few boxes of cookies clutched in her arms. He'd already made a huge mental note of her in a jiffy - he was a trained police officer after all. Brunette, caucasian, had substance in her in the form of thick bones and muscles likely, which likely meant that she was highly active in some way. Her uniform told her in what way. Her smile was a little hard to look at because of her teeth, but otherwise really genuine and sweet and innocent, which put his mind at ease.

But what really caught his attention was that she was shivering a little, and underneath that smile, it wasn't hard to notice that she was resisting chattering just to look presentable.

"W-would you like to b-buy some cookies?" the girl scout asked, looking absolutely miserable - and she couldn't do it without the chattering taking over briefly. Those brown eyes looked like they were just about ready to burst into tears. "They're for the W-Wilford Orphanage…"

The man was touched. How could he not be? A girl who didn't even look like she was ten was slogging it out in the cold, trying to sell a few boxes of cookies for a paltry amount of money that wouldn't even be hers. It was far more than what most children were capable of. It was certainly far more than what he was capable of. After all, he knew he wasn't exactly a saint.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1054.**

When Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup walked out of the spare bedroom they'd used as a changing room, they were immediately met with scrutinizing eyes. Not just Fedele's, but that of his partner, the thin man, as well as two others in their smart suits and mysterious trilbies.

"Not bad," Fedele said while looking Blossom from head to toe. It seemed that he hadn't lost his touch when it came to selecting children's clothes, and quite predictably, each of the Girls had gone with their favorite colors - seemingly the colors they were born with, and obsessed with since. Blossom had put herself in a dark pink strapless, shoulderless dress while Bubbles had something similar, except with straps and a ribbon upfront. Buttercup, on the other hand, was Buttercup the odd one out, and she had taken a set of green-themed female tuxedos. The only similarity between their outfits were their pumps.

Fedele had anticipated all fashion choices. He'd known all along whether the Girls would prefer dresses was an open question due to their unique occupation. In fact, it'd surprised him that not all the Girls had chosen tuxedos.

Fedele pulled his watch out. "Well, look at the time. Party's about to begin," he said, before wheeling himself towards the study. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup followed.


	89. Chapter 83: A Special Day (Part 2)

**Chapter 83: A Special Day (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Eastern Suburbs. 8 Blueberry Street.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1055.**

"Jesus! Isn't it a little too early for you to be selling cookies out there?" Damian said while still keeping the gap between door and frame constant and small.

"They really need the money," the girl scout claimed, still shivering. "May I c-come in for a minute? It's really c-cold. P-please…"

"Sure, sure," the off-duty cop said, and promptly unlatched the chain on his door. Opening the door wide, he let the girl scout through, and she was so eager to get into a warm place that she'd squeezed past him and into the living room.

"You know, you should have brought a jacket and some winter accessories if you're going on a crusade for charity," Damian said jokingly in an attempt to liven up the atmosphere, but he immediately regretted it as he found the fact that a kid risking all sorts of diseases and injury just to put a few dollars in a charity's piggy bank was impossible to look upon with a lighter spirit.

"Thanks…" the girl scout said while she was rubbing her hands together. Damian thought it odd that the eight-year-old-something wasn't even wearing any gloves. Wouldn't she risk hypothermia that way? She looked up at him expectantly when she had gotten the shelter she needed. "How many boxes do you want to buy?"

"Tell you what, kiddo," the off-duty cop said. "How about if I buy them all off you? My boy's birthday is coming up anyway and I can't bear the thought of you walking around out there trying to sell a few boxes of cookies."

"I've got more in my little wagon…" the girl scout added.

"Yeah, that's even worse. I don't think you should lose your nose or a few fingers over them," he added before patting himself down for his wallet. His cardigan was light and his pants were flat. Then he remembered where it was.

"Honey, who is it?" Damian's wife, Joanne, called out again from the kitchen.

"Just one brave girl scout selling cookies, dear!" Damian shouted back. He then turned back to the girl scout. "Tell you what, let me get my wallet, and I'll be right down, okay?"

"Okay," the girl scout said with a smile on her face, a smile that Damian couldn't quite understand. He'd decided that it was just an innocuous expression of satisfaction over her charitable work and success.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1056.**

When Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were inside the study, they saw immediately that the Amoeba Boys were seated behind their tables as usual, like the bosses they were. However, there were others in the room. More men in their smart suits of various dark or nondescript colors, and some women in long, flowing dresses, all of whom were enjoying the same kind of beverage Bossman had given Blossom back when they dined together. The smell of the champagne was strong in the room.

The moment Bossman saw them, he stood up and went around his table. He was a huge man, imposing, but strangely, Blossom felt none of that any longer. He had been something of a friend to her, despite their hostile beginnings. Where they used to skirmish in proxy wars, they were now working together to make Townsville a better place. Bubbles, however, wasn't as readily accepting of the new arrangement. There was something off - something wrong with it. If there was one thing she learned from her mistake with the Fairy Godmother, it was that evil would never reveal itself as such - no, quite the opposite - evil would disguise itself as good first and foremost. But with Blossom being so adamant that she was right to work with the Amoeba Boys, Bubbles could only keep an eye out for any trickery. Buttercup, on the other hand, did not care. If there was anything to be enjoyed, it would be great. Otherwise, she was just biding her time, waiting for a chance to ascend from the sham that was her family.

All eyes were on the Powerpuff Girls when they walked in. Bossman pulled his cigar out of his mouth and snuffed it out on an ashtray. The Powerpuff Girls could smell the cigar smoke in the air regardless. He'd been at it for a while, and everyone was happily breathing in his fumes.

"Well, how does it feel like to be a group of real heroines, girls?" the mob boss growled. All other eyes had turned away, as though they knew to give their bosses and the Girls their moment.

"The kicking-butt part was fun," Buttercup muttered, which attracted a disapproving sideways stare from Blossom.

"I'm just glad that those bad guys won't be hurting anyone else, Mister Ricci," Blossom spoke over Buttercup, trying to sound extra polite to make up for Buttercup's blunder. A waiter had handed the Girls their glasses of champagne in the meantime.

"Please, call me Bosco. That's my real first name," Bossman re-introduced himself. Blossom could figure out why people had taken to calling him 'Bossman' based on his real name, but she didn't say it. "It's not exactly… noble, yeah, but it brings back memories."

"It's a nice name…" Bubbles tried to play nice feebly. She still couldn't believe that she was talking to the brother of the men who had injured Blossom and Buttercup on more than one occasion. She tried to drink the champagne she was handed, but the taste burned her taste buds. Why would anyone drink such foul grape juice? To her, it was like drinking spoiled juice - not that she had ever done that before.

"Of course it is. It's the only thing I have left from my ma and pa," Bossman said with a barely noticeable smile. Blossom thought it seemed a little bitter.

"That's really sad…" Blossom empathized.

"Yes… But that's a lifetime ago. Now? Now we celebrate," Bossman growled. "There was a time when the Lombardi was just a small family like any other. It's a family with a rich history, going all the way back to the founding of the city. It's had its golden age, but by the time I was around to take over, it's like a shrunken head, a bony man from the ghettos." Blossom took a sip from her champagne and found it to be somewhat to her liking, but it was an acquired taste. "You know how I brought it back to its former glory?"

"How?" Blossom asked. Bubbles, who was just hanging around behind her, didn't like Bossman's story. It was basically about the rise of evil. Had Bubbles known about Hitler, Bossman's story would have equaled the historical dictator's in her eyes.

"Back in the day, the Lombardi was a very… exclusive club. Like those classy joints where you enter only if you have a suit and a necktie, a well-dressed dame hanging on your arm, whom you might have f-" Bossman growled, then laughed. "I apologize. I won't go into details not meant for young ears. Anyway, back then, the Lombardi accepted Italian men only - no women, no men of other upbringing, white or otherwise, long as they're not Italian. Between the gang wars and the arrests, they were running out. So I opened up the family, brought in some good men - and women - even if they weren't from The Boot." Bossman was waving a hand at some of the others in the room. Blossom turned to look at who he was referring to. A black man, talking to a woman in a blazer. Both of them were dressed formally, but the look in their eyes wasn't just seasoned. Those were killer eyes, barely restrained.

"And now we come to you," Bossman suddenly said. "You've been a great help to me and my brothers, to the Lombardi. Without you, I don't know if we'd ever turn over a new leaf and help clean up the town. The Lombardi remembers its friends, and we count the three of you like some of them. I find it an inspiring story really - we were enemies, but we've put aside our differences for the greater good." Blossom was clasping her hands together, looking like a girl just about to blow out the candles on her birthday cake.

"Which is why I'm about to offer you something only my closest friends get to do," Bossman continued as Blossom was completely hooked on him and his every word. Where she couldn't seem to gain any validation and affection from Dad any longer because of Bunny, Bosco's attention had filled the void, and it seemed like gold to her. The mob boss stuck his right hand out, making sure that his ring finger was sticking out a little. The metal on his knuckle there didn't need that emphasis to stand out. It was a huge, golden ring, likely made larger for Bossman's thick finger. There was a solid, silver 'L' embossed on the ovular top of the ring.

"That's a really pretty ring, Mister Bosco," Blossom praised the mob boss. It was at this point that everyone had returned their gaze and attention to the famed Powerpuff Girls and their bosses. There was a pause, with Bossman looking at Blossom as though expecting something from her, something that Blossom had no idea about. "Urm, what do I do?"

"It's a family tradition, something only friends and family and associates of the Lombardi ever got to do. Call it a symbol, a sign of friendship. Something to seal it, forever and ever," Don Bosco Ricci explained. "What do you kids love to call it? Best friends forever? BFF? Yeah, call it a little clique thing to make it official. All you have to do is kneel and kiss the ring."

Blossom's smile grew wider. In her life, friends were far and few in between. She had heard from her classmates in Pokey Oaks Kindergarten how many friends they had, numbering in the dozens. It'd made her envious, seeing that the only friends she had made up not even a dozen, and she would hardly ever see them. Most of the kids in Pokey Oaks were still keeping their distance, emotionally and sometimes physically.

She couldn't pass up another chance to make some new friends, three and possibly even more from the Lombardi Family. After a pause as she took in the gravity of what was said between them, and of the good that could come from this, Blossom spread her skirt and finally knelt in front of Don Bosco Ricci. She couldn't reach his ring that way though, so the Bossman had to get on a knee as well to make up for her height.

Taking Bossman's massive hand, she gave his family ring a long and hearty kiss. She felt a huge hand stroking the back of her head, interweaving with the hair there. Flashes of white light went off when that happened, and when Blossom turned to see where it'd come from, she realized that a few men were taking photos and videos.

"This one's going into the history books," Slim, who had stood up in the middle of this ceremony to get a better look, said.

"Hehehe… Yeah, history books," Junior repeated Slim's words, adding his own meaning to it with his laugh and tone.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Eastern Suburbs. 8 Blueberry Street.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1058.**

When the target had left for his wallet, Bunny got to work. Looking around the room, she began identifying potential weapons. Rook had said to improvise, as this mission was neck-deep in black ops territory and whatever she did here must not be linked back to the USDO. Would she use the fire poker? No, it was too far into the living room that someone might see her pick it up. What about breaking a window for a glass shard? No, someone might hear. Bunny's eyes turned to the dining table.

Yes. There it was. There was a weapon there that was exactly what she needed. Briskly walking to the dining table, she saw cutlery there, arranged for three to dine. There were forks, spoons, and butter knives, arranged neatly around dinner plates, but those weren't what she had her eye on. Reaching for the middle, she grabbed a rather long and big serrated knife off a platter, normally used to part slabs of steak or other meat. It was perfect. Easy to conceal, and no one noticed that she had taken it.

The moment she had it, she hid it behind her back and got back to the middle of the living room as quickly as she could. She stared hard at the stairs, waiting, waiting for her target to come back down. She waited and stared, and it was just at this moment that she realized she could sort of see shadows, or silhouettes, through the walls, and one of them just so happened to be at the stairs close to the second floor. Was she imagining it? That she could see through things?

"Okay, so I got my wallet," Damian, her mark, was walking across the kitchen and the living room and Bunny didn't have the time to process what she saw. It was time. "How much were those cookies again?"

"I'm sorry, Mister Damian Connelly," Bunny apologized, on the verge of tears. It was all going to happen again. Her hands were still behind her back, and they were shaking as she held the stolen steak knife with a vice-like grip. If she had applied her Chemical X2-induced strength, it would have been crushed. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you talking about? And how did you know my name?" the confused man asked. There was one other thing he noticed. The girl scout had abandoned her cookies, and he didn't have time to see where they had gone.

Neither did he have the time to react when the girl scout pulled a knife from behind her and thrust it into his chest, bypassing the sternum from underneath, easily pushing the serrated blade of the steak knife into his heart.

The doomed man wore an expression of shock, his mouth wide open as he dropped his wallet and gripped the hostile girl scout by the shoulder. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out even as unimaginable pain erupted from the core of his being, spreading throughout his body.

Bunny pulled the steak knife out, and as the man fell, she grabbed him by the collar. The man finally screamed after a delay, which alarmed Bunny. She quickly thrust her stolen steak knife through his throat and up into his brain, hastening his end, but she couldn't undo his scream.

"Damian!? What happened!?" the police officer's wife came running out of the kitchen. She froze when she came just an inch or two out and saw what had happened, catching the visiting girl scout red-handed. "Why did you-"

"DAMIAN! NO!" the woman shrieked in terror when the killer girl scout looked in her direction, a strange mixture of sadness and rage in her face. Backing away, she closed the door to the kitchen and the rest of the house and ran for a cabinet outside the kitchen.

The crazy girl scout, meanwhile, had dropped her dead assassination target and ran for the door. Joanne Connelly, the cop's wife, scrambled to open the cabinet. She had to work through the number lock, and panic had gripped her such that she was fumbling with the padlock. Somehow, by some miracle, she was able to get it unlocked just before the girl scout had crashed through the door, sending glass flying everywhere.

Joanne pulled a shotgun out of the cabinet and pumped it. The girl scout had slipped after smashing through the door, and as the woman was aiming her shotgun at her in a state of panic, she was just getting up. The panicky homemaker was able to get a shot off. Buckshots slammed into the girl scout's face, throwing her off her feet.

It should have ended there, except it didn't. Somehow, the girl scout was getting up again! After taking a shotgun shell to the face!

But there was something else that Joanne noticed. The slasher girl's eyes had turned purple. Bright, glowing purple.

Screaming in panic, Joanne pumped her shotgun frantically. She trained her weapon on the inhuman thing that had killed her husband but it was fast, too fast to be natural, having run up to her before she could line up a second shot.

Joanne pulled the trigger out of fear instead, when the girl scout pushed her shotgun out of the way and jumped on top of her, pulling her down as the both of them screamed. Joanne could feel small hands pulling her hair as she tried to crawl away, and in response, she slammed the body of her shotgun in the face of the killer girl scout, miraculously causing her to lose her grip.

And that was when an even worse horror dawned on Joanne. She'd heard the footsteps at first, but in her panic, she'd overlooked the noise. At the foot of the stairs stood a boy of about eight - her boy. It'd distracted her, and the girl scout was able to wrestle the shotgun out of her hands with ease.

"HOWARD, RUN!" Joanne screamed just before she felt a shotgun butt to the back of her head. "RUN!"

It was just at that moment when Howard saw a girl scout splatter his mother's brains across the carpet with a shotgun.

"Mom?" Howard managed to utter, shocked at what had just happened. His mom - his beautiful mom's face had just been blown half to bits, and those tiny bits were scattered all across the carpet too. There was a huge spray of blood. He thought he saw an eyeball fly out too, and another was rolling towards him.

He knew he was supposed to be afraid. Terrified. But he didn't have time to process the gore in front of him when he made eye contact with the girl who killed his mother. She appeared to be about his age, but she had freaky purple eyes. And they looked angry. And manic. And sad. And murderous when they fixed their gaze on him quite suddenly.

That was when he turned tail and ran back up the stairs, faster than he'd ever been.

"Lima-five, the boy in the house, what do I do with him?" Howard could hear the girl scout speaking into what was presumably a radio as he ran. "But- Yes, he can talk. Okay." He heard a shotgun blast after that, and the steps of the stairs exploding just as he flit out of view after that. He fell on the steps leading up to the second floor when that happened, pain eating away at his leg.

Looking down, he saw blood. Wooden shrapnel had pierced his leg at places. It wasn't life-threatening, but he had never felt such pain before, at least not for a long, long time. He forced himself into a stumbling run. He could hear the killer girl scout coming, much faster than he was.

After hitting the corridors, he limped back to his room, and he was more thankful than before that it was close to the stairs. He could hear the thumping of the girl scout's hiking boots right outside his door just as he locked it. Looking around the room, he wondered in panic what he should do, severely missing his parents' protection and guidance. Should he hide? No, he would never feel safe as long as he was in the house.

He got away from the door and watched it, still sitting on the fence as to what to do. For a moment, there was silence. Had the girl scout gone away? He hoped she did, even believed naively that perhaps she did - there was supposed to be a happy ending to this, right? He had a few uncles and aunts. He'd be living with one of them after this, he was sure of it, and they would take care of him.

The silence continued to pervade. Perhaps he was right after all?

But all his hope and belief had evaporated when the door exploded - particularly where the doorknob was. The girl scout had shot the door, sending yet more wooden shrapnel at him. He felt a stinging pain in his chest and arms as he ran for it - deciding on the fly that he'd leave through the window just like how he would whenever he wanted to meet his friends clandestinely.

As Howard pulled the window open, he could hear another shotgun blast savaging the door. While fitting through the window, he heard the door being kicked open and crashing into the wall. He scrambled out - hell, he'd jump off the roof if he had to!

But that would never be.

He felt a hand closing around his ankle and pulling him back in. How the girl scout was so strong he had no idea - it was like getting pulled away by several adults, or a robot like from The Terminator. He ended up crashing on the floor - and it would have been more painful had it not been for the carpet.

"No! Please, no!" the boy yelled as he rolled on his back to see how he was going to die. The girl scout was there, pointing his dead mom's shotgun at him. He tried to scramble away, but he was in so much pain that when he ended up hitting the wall, he gave up. He cried helplessly as he shielded his face in vain - as if his arms could deflect shotgun projectiles. At that moment, he'd wished that someone - anyone would save him. He'd wish that, somehow, the Powerpuff Girls would be there to stop the killer girl scout. He'd idolized them; he'd always wanted to see them and now it felt as if he'd never see them.

But the girl scout did not fire. Howard peeked between his arms and saw that she was lowering the shotgun. She looked… sad. To Howard, the glowing, purple eyes no longer looked frightening. It was as if the girl scout appeared frightened as well.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, before raising her shotgun again and pulling the trigger.

The shotgun clicked, rang hollow. The girl scout appeared confused. She pumped the shotgun again and fired, but again it clicked. Howard winced, but he did not die.

"Please don't," he cried. The girl scout did not stop. Instead, she struck the boy in the head with the butt of the shotgun. He fell to the floor yelping, though whether unconscious or dead, the girl scout wasn't sure. So she struck him again, and again, and again, until his head was nothing more than a puddle of shattered bones, spilled brains, gore and blood.

Bunny got up, herself shellshocked. She dropped the shotgun beside the dead boy. It had to be done, that was what Rook said. She knew that General Blackwater would have agreed with Rook. The boy was an enemy - he would have tattled on her, gone to the cops, then the bad guys would hear and her family would be in trouble. It was a real shame - she had never met a boy close to her physical age, a boy close to her height. She felt sad about killing him, but her family came first.


	90. Chapter 84: One Too Many (Part 1)

**Chapter 84: One Too Many (Part 1)**

* * *

**Townsville Tribune Extract 03 MAR (Friday) 1989**

The following data is a copy of a series of articles printed on one of Townsville's main news media outlets. It contains important information related to USDO activities.

(The following article is found on the front page, which is indicative of what is likely to be the city's main concern)

* * *

**NEW COP-KILLER ON THE LOOSE**

The City of Townsville had stood witness to numerous assaults on its esteemed city officials ever since its founding. From the Post-Civil-War assassinations of city administrators and law enforcers by ex-slavers to the Hunger Murders in the middle of World War One, from one bout of gang violence during Prohibition to another in the 60s, Townsville has had rashes of violence targeted at members of the Townsville Police Force.

Yet, the city continues to stand strong, proud and defiant against those who would parasitically exploit it or even tear it down. If there is any comfort to be derived from these tragedies, it is that they are intermittent, casualties often occur as one-time events and the perpetrators are very often caught or killed shortly after their rampages.

All that, however, appears to have changed with the newest rash of cop-killing. Ten police officers in the slums of Townsville are reported to have been killed last night. This fact alone is a bad omen, as none have ever been so bold as to kill so many police officers at once, not counting instances where the police are on the offensive while responding to calls. The cops were not just targeted for murder in cold blood - they were massacred.

The reason why TPD officers are, by and large, immune to being targeted, at least massacre-style, is varied. The law-abiding respect them for having to deal with crime in the world's most crime-ridden city. While often spoken in hushed tones, the not-so-law-abiding respects some of them for looking the other way. This status quo allows only small-scale assaults on police officers in the silent war between the upright and the corrupt.

Even the previous cop-killer case had not been so ambitious. On 15 June 1988, a disgruntled factory worker, Gavin Sullivan, had ambushed and killed four officers in two squad cars before being shot in the head himself by citizen hero, Mike Wilford - who is, coincidentally, distantly related to Mayor Wilford. A previous cop-killer case earlier that year on the 5th of February saw six officers killed in a coffee shop shooting.

Back in the slums yesterday, on the 2nd of March 1989, ten police officers were killed all within a short span of time, estimated to be about ten to fifteen minutes, according to forensic experts in the TPD. While details are still up for debate, a police spokesperson claims that it is likely that the perpetrator is a highly-trained and heavily-armed individual, either military or ex-military. A USDO spokesperson, when approached for questions, deeply regrets the incident and will step up their efforts to fight crime in Townsville.

The Townsville Police Department and their unions are up in arms over the incident. All units in the city have been placed on high alert. The TPD's rival unit to the USDO, STARS, or the Superiority Tactics and Response Squads, will also be deployed on random patrol missions. At the same time, STARS throughout Townsville will be on a 24-hours alert, to be deployed to any locale on short notice.

The public is advised to be on the lookout for anyone suspicious.

* * *

**SURPRISE CELEBRATIONS IN STORE FOR TOWNSVILLE**

Never in this decade has Townsville ever felt any sense of hope when it comes to the crime war. Some have even decided that an eternal war between good and evil is the new normal. Ever since the newly-christened Powerpuff Girls entered the scene, however, that has changed. Ever since coming into the picture, the Powerpuff Girls have been a constant adversary to the mafia that ruled the streets of Townsville. An article like this just months ago would have been impossible to publish had it not been for the Powerpuff Girls.

Recently, they have turned their attention to the many gangs of Townsville that have been slicing up the city like a cake and devouring their share of it. In recent days, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup of the USDO had been targeting the top gangs. When interviewed, the USDO, this time, gave credit to the TPD for coordinating the manhunt for gang leaders. History has been made, as previously, these gang leaders were untouchable, protected by their complex network of contacts, plausible deniability and clandestine approaches to organized crime.

However, the Powerpuff Girls, functioning outside the confines of traditional law enforcement, have been able to touch them where no one else could. While many welcome this positive change, there has been some criticism of the Powerpuff Girls and their parent agency, the USDO. Some claim that it is hypocritical that the Girls are operating outside the law. Others took issue with the way they carried out their operations, as casualties are mounting and property damage is worse with the Powerpuff Girls. Many have also pointed out that children should not be forced to fight crime, nor should they be trusted to make life-and-death decisions.

'It is absolutely ridiculous that anyone would raise such criticisms of the Powerpuff Girls,' Director Cliff of the USDO had said when he took center stage in a USDO press conference two days ago at City Hall. 'They are not children, but well-trained, dedicated weapons platforms fulfilling their function. You don't judge a gun for firing on its user's behalf, you judge it based on the numbers, and the Powerpuff Girls have proven themselves effective. The results speak for themselves.'

Exactly what the USDO Director meant by 'weapons platforms' has been up in the air for as long as the Powerpuff Girls have been in service. Some believe that they are highly advanced children-shaped robots, while others think that they are lab-grown bioweapons. Regardless of what they are, many see them for how they appear, as superpowered superhero children Townsville desperately needs.

'I can't take credit for all their work,' Police Chief Feig of Precinct 77 commented when interviewed about his pivotal role in coordinating strikes against the myriad gang leaders plaguing Townsville. 'All I did was point the finger at the right people, and off they go. They're doing the city proud. It's just a shame that we've gotten to a point where we're using little girls to solve the city's criminal crisis, as superpowered as they may be.'

How is all this related to a celebration? Mayor Wilford, as high up in his cloud castle as he may be, has done right by the city all these years, often descending down from his ivory tower and staying on the ground. A rare honest politician, the leader Townsville does not deserve, he has done it again.

In honor of the Powerpuff Girls, he has been arranging for a celebration in secret to mark their achievements and deeds done in service of the city. When pressed as to how it is a 'surprise' when he just spoiled it for this interview, he remarked that he knows the Powerpuff Girls enough to know that they do not read newspapers, and are too busy saving the day to listen to hearsay. The few people in the position to inform them about the surprise should be wise enough not to spill the secret, he believes. Of course, he urges the public to keep quiet about the surprise until it is time.

The celebrations are slated to go ahead at the end of next week. The details of its contents are, for now, under wraps.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Townsville Police Department Headquarters.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1103.**

"Why!? I don't understand!" I yelled at the chief. It wasn't the first time, nor will it be the last. We both understood that.

"These 'Powerpuff Girls' are not your kids! You can't hog their services!" the chief argued back. I'd rarely heard that much thunder in him. It could only mean one thing. He was never really that motivated before, and I knew the only thing that fueled him. "We've been going in a loop. You know why. You're not the only guy with a mission here. You saw the press yesterday? Coming in here to ask questions? That's another man doing his job. His duty!"

"Is that right? You sure about that?" I asked sarcastically. I never wanted to kick the hornet's nest. I used to be smarter than that. But I guess the years were getting to me, not so much the rot of Father Time, but the tiredness that came with it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the chief asked, his voice narrowed into a more hushed tone, which was never a good sign. I knew about who Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had been liaising with, and that man's name wasn't good news. Not by a long shot.

"You know what I mean," I said simply. I wasn't kidding, and neither was I hinting at the fact. We both understood that.

"I guess I do," the chief admitted. I was surprised, but then again, his office wasn't bugged, at least I didn't think it was. There was a reason why he'd been around for so long, sitting in his comfy boss chair for years without interruption. He'd been toeing the line, well, a couple, and he towed them really well. The slave drivers hadn't given him any lashes - only one too many cracks of the whip in the air.

"But it means nothing in a city like this," the chief went on. Talking in vague terms had its benefits, especially in a city like Townsville. "I get it. You're an old cop, a decade older than even me. You've seen better days. But that's your problem right there. In case you hadn't notice all these years, 'lieutenant', things work differently from how it used to way back when."

"I know how things work, and it's going to change. We're going to win," I cautioned him. I was tired, like a first-timer running the last legs of a marathon, or an old man who had to make every breath count. I wanted it all to end. I'd hit one too many hurdles. "I'm going to make damn sure we win."

"Don't be so sure about that," he cautioned me in return, before standing up again, pushing his hefty weight up to my level. "The Powerpuff Girls will be too busy with other requests for the next few days. They've got actual things to achieve with other men - unlike the fool's errand they've been sent on when they were with SOMEONE I know."

I left the viper's nest with a bad taste in my mouth. Civil war's coming - it'd actually been happening for a while, but the skirmishes were giving way to the big battles.

I couldn't continue shooting for the Amoeba Boys, I knew that after my talk with the chief. I'd have to secure the home front first, and I knew where to start…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1339.**

It wasn't the best of days today, but at least it could have been worse, at least from the perspective of Professor Utonium. The Girls, all four of them, were back by lunchtime, and there was nothing on the news that would mean trouble for any of them, though the news, as always, was full of dark omens, and in Townsville, there were dark omens every other hour. A police officer and his family were slaughtered in their own home, and on the officer's day off no less.

Bunny was back home first before her elder sisters. She'd come back unscathed, something he could only be thankful about as the last time she was on a mission, she'd been hurt, and it seemed like the start of a trend. He was glad he was wrong.

They'd spent some time together, mainly just watching television as a normal family would. Bunny got to indulge in cartoons, something she hadn't been able to do since her training started. Despite her real-life experiences, those Hanna-Barbera cartoons were still magic to her. Her laughter during an episode of Paddington Bear was music to the professor's ears.

Not long after, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup rang the doorbell. Both the professor and Bunny went to receive the elder daughters of the house.

And just like before, the original three came back home battered and even worse off than before. Blossom had received a terrible-looking cut going diagonally across her face, likely inflicted using a blade-like weapon. Buttercup's facial injury was worse. Her left cheek had been slit open. And this wasn't going into their other wounds yet. For Blossom, the next most conspicuous wound on her was her swollen, black eye, then the cuts all over her.

"Why does it have to be the face?" the tomboy groaned and winced. It wasn't the first time she had received such an injury. Bubbles was the only one of the three to be (mostly) unscathed this time; but even then, she still had some small cuts that needed treatment and a few bruises that needed a few hours to heal.

To say that Bunny was shocked would be an understatement. It'd felt as if she was failing them. The sight of Blossom and Buttercup's injuries weren't encouraging and particularly horrifying when she got to see the inside of Buttercup's mouth from the opening of her cheek wound. At that point, she knew that she would have to fight harder and kill more of her enemies - and somehow, she just knew, her sisters would cease suffering.

"How did this happen?" the professor would later ask Blossom and Buttercup after he had brought them down to the lab for treatment. He would discover later that Blossom had taken an ax to the shoulder while Buttercup had suffered a similar injury to the thigh. Apparently, someone had supplied Duranium weapons to whoever was responsible for the injuries. Upon removing their gear, the professor would discover more cuts and bruises on their bodies.

As Bunny was assisting the professor alongside Selicia, she had seen all of it, how bad it was. She'd promised herself then that she wouldn't be such a sobbing, apologetic mess the next time she had to kill an enemy.

"We were going after the 'Chinese Triad' this time on the far edge of Townsville in a place called 'Chinatown'," Blossom explained as she winced in pain while the professor was stitching her face up. Buttercup had had it worse, however, as the professor had to stitch her split cheek back together. Eating would be a problem for her, and it would be as painful as she was hungry. "The bad guys there really knew how to fight…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Chinatown. Wuxia Mă Lù.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1152.**

Blossom thought that it was classy of Bossman to send her off only after they had filled her belly with snacks and her head with praises because this next gang he pointed out for her sounded like they really meant business - business of the sticky kind. Just the name of their leaders sounded intimidating. Their leader was known as the 'Dragon's Head'. The Dragon's Head was guarded by Dragon Claws, sworn brother-protectors of their leader. The Dragon's Head's lieutenants were known by various equally-intimidating terms such as the Vanguard, Mountain Master and Incense Master. Lastly, they were known as the Blood Dragons, or simply the Chinese Triad.

The Don considered them strong, even if still inferior to the Lombardi Crime Family. They had hundreds of members, which he considered small, but Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup still found it to be a big number. They weren't afraid of committing serious crimes, and their foulest deeds included mass murder and cold-blooded torture that'd went on for days, weeks - even months. But other than that, assassinations, kidnappings, extortion, involvement in the drug business, brothels, torture sports, illegal dog fighting rings, counterfeiting, money laundering, and illegal firearms importation were just some of their daily routine activities. The Girls didn't understand half the terms being thrown at them, but they understood the weight of those words. They must be some really, really mean bullies, perhaps even worse than the Expositos.

The Girls entered the scene flying, with Buttercup packing her machinegun while the other two had their MP5s as vestigial weapons they wouldn't likely use. The building was a huge multi-floor restaurant with a Chinese theme to it. There were guards at the entrance and roof, but they were easily dispatched with the Girls firing their respective beams simultaneously at different targets, burning and cutting them up, but one was able to retreat inside, clutching an arm that looked like it was going to fall off. The Girls crashed through a display window of the restaurant, shattering glass shards and fake bowls of noodles and rice all over the place.

There was no one in the dining area of the restaurant. It had been closed for something. Based on experience alone, the Girls knew that a criminal meeting was going on. There was a trail of blood leading into the back. Double doors with porthole windows were still swinging. They could see what was behind. The kitchen.

Men burst out of the said kitchen in short order; there was a whole bunch of them, armed with all manners of weapons, both modern and traditional. Bullets had started flying almost immediately, coming from both sides. Naturally, the Girls were hit to no effect. Blossom and Bubbles had formed their newly-mastered energy shields to completely nullify the force of the bullets while Buttercup was shooting back, simply shrugging off the snapping pain of the bullets. The tomboy was able to gun down one of them before the rest took cover behind counters.

"We have to go through them quickly! Their leaders will get away!" Blossom ordered. She knew how it would go; the criminal leaders would try to make a break for it as they could not beat them easily, realistically.

Buttercup was flying ahead with or without Blossom's orders anyway. Sticking close to the ceiling, she fired her Stoner Light Machinegun in bursts, concentrating on several men hiding behind the counters. She knew she had gotten one of them straight away, while the others dove for cover as wood splintered in her wake.

Blossom and Bubbles flew right up to the men, their energy shields still held up with one hand. Blossom was firing off infrared beams, the yield high enough to burn the men as they fired back at them with futility. Bubbles, however, decided to go soft on whoever she encountered, and even as one of them continued unloading his Uzi at her, she responded by knocking him out with a punch across the face. She would do the same for the others in a room - better her than her less discerning sisters.

But it was getting tiring. One of them was unloading shotgun shells on Bubbles and she flew up close to him. Her energy shield fizzled out but she'd given him an upper-cut just in time to knock him clear into lalaland.

Buttercup, in the meantime, had overcome her share of the bad guys easily by flying over the counters and gunning down another couple of Chinese thugs from overhead. Blossom had burned through the rest of them just as her own pink energy bubble had fizzled out from the firepower directed at it.

But the vanguard was down. Blossom ran through the swinging kitchen doors, slamming through them. Bubbles and Buttercup followed. It was pandemonium in there, and it wasn't due to some culinary magic. Men were running down the aisles, their guns spitting out bullets at them, fiery like dragons.

Buttercup jumped on top of a counter, returning fire to add to the chaos, only to run out of bullets shortly. She fell back on her laser eye beam, slicing a man's head off; blood had sprayed everywhere - on the counters, sinks, food, and utensils.

Bubbles fired ion beams as she surged forward, sweeping it across the kitchen, flooring a couple of them, who were replaced with four more. Radios and phones and other electronics in the room were shorted out.

Following up was Blossom, who fired her infrared beam at another triad member, who had wisely ducked out of view before he could be hit. Before she could scratch that itch, however, she heard a door flinging open and hitting the wall. A man flew out from the darkness within, but before she could turn to see, she felt something slam into the side of her head, sending her sprawling on the ground. With watery eyes, she thought she could make out a man with a long stick doing the same with Bubbles and Buttercup. The stick was shimmering. Duranium. And the man had red eyes. Oh no.

She tried to get up, but she had only made it to her knees when the mystery attacker, who had been spinning his staff, building up speed, swung one end of his Duranium weapon at her.

She'd been sent flying back out the kitchen through the double doors, landing on a table, smashing it with all four legs broken. She felt as broken as the table then.

But there was no time to rest. The man flew out of the doors in his pursuit of her; she barely managed to roll out of the way as he brought his staff down, splintering the wood where her chest used to be.

Blossom floated out of the way, losing control momentarily and spinning in the air before bringing her X-thrusts under control. She'd finally had a good look at the man.

And he wasn't someone she'd expected to fight. He didn't look like any criminal she had seen before. He was shorter than most men she had seen. He resembled the Yakuzas she had fought in physical appearance, though he seemed 'nicer'. Except for the Crazy-Bubbles-like red eyes. He was wearing clothing she had never seen before. Unknown to her, he was in traditional Chinese garbs, mostly brown in color with dark blue pants. Apparently, if he were to go out, he'd want to go out in style. On his hip were a few more weapons, swords in sheathes. The only thing modern about him was the MAC-10 machine pistol strapped to his belt.

Blossom would have thought that he was some kind of entertainer had he not brutalized her sisters and her.

"You leave, now," the Chinese man offered. "I don't want to kill little girls today."

The fighter seemed reasonable despite his use of His Secret 2.0, something which Blossom liked.

The kitchen doors, which had sustained much abuse today, slammed open again. Bubbles and Buttercup had finally rejoined the fight, albeit with bruises on their heads. Their newest nemesis seemed alarmed by this. He twirled the staff in his hand before holding it behind his back.

"I repeat my offer to three of you. Leave my brothers alone and I spare you, all of you," the Chinese man-made his offer once more, this time to all three of the Girls.


	91. Chapter 85: One Too Many (Part 2)

A/N: I apologize for the late update. I must say, this has got to be one of the most difficult chapters I have ever written. Apart from the fact that this chapter is somewhat plot-critical (only somewhat), the fight choreography was difficult to execute. I have to admit that I am over my head here as I have only rudimentary martial arts training, far less so than my military training, and I'm not exactly that big on martial arts films since I found my passion in horror instead. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter regardless of any failings on my part.

* * *

**Chapter 85: One Too Many (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Chinatown. Wuxia Mă Lù.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1158.**

"Why are you fighting us, Mister... urm…" Bubbles asked, but fell short when it came to the man's name.

"You may call me Master Pang. I belong to many disciplines of Wushu. I hesitate to show them to you, but I won't hesitate if you murder my brothers again," the man introduced himself, though without the typical bow.

"Your brothers are bad people, Mister Pang," Blossom told him without hesitation.

"Yeah, and we're going to have to kill them all," Buttercup pushed him thoughtlessly, eager to get into the action again and settle the score with this 'Master Pang'. She could still feel his bo staff in the back of her head, a constant, unceasing reminder that she had a score to settle with the jacked-up martial artist.

Buttercup had attracted the menacing red-glare of the master.

"And who told you that?" he replied, calmer than Blossom expected. She was expecting him to fly at her at any moment. It was a surprise when he didn't.

"It was…" Blossom's voice trailed off very quickly the moment she spoke. Deep down, she knew that the Amoeba Boys weren't the most trustworthy of people in anyone's eyes. It felt like something to hide. She swallowed a bitter glob of saliva before biting the bullet and continuing: "Detective Mullens."

The moment she did it, she hated herself for it. Lying wasn't something she liked, nor was it something she thought she was really capable of until the day she started helping the Amoeba Boys and lied to Dad about it.

"There are some bad ones, but many are good people with no place to go," the martial artist exclaimed, gesticulating wildly and animatedly with his free hand. "Those police officers know nothing about true hardship! About true rejection and hopelessness!" He'd been watching Bubbles intently, scrutinizing her for signs of weaknesses so obviously displayed. He then turned to Blossom, studying her, as if seeing right through her. "And you know nothing. I know the hands guiding you. One more chance. Leave."

Blossom frowned. She hated being told she was wrong. It'd made the feelings in her go bad, and those that were already bad had gone worse. The doubt inside her, for one, that seemed to be pointing to the fact that she had been wrong all along, and Bubbles had been right. It was something she didn't want to believe in. It was something she couldn't believe in. She was the leader, and she was right.

"No! You're bad! Your 'brothers' are evil!" Blossom yelled with her eyes closed, tears spewing out as she fought herself on the inside.

Master Pang didn't dilly-dally around the moment Blossom revealed her stubbornness. Leaping forward, he swung his staff at her, but she was able to duck out of the way and counter-attack with a punch while flying forward, which Pang blocked with his staff held out. The force, however, caused him to slide backward even when he braced against it.

"So, you have chosen death!" the master yelled as he jumped and spun in the air, delivering another blow at Blossom, who blocked it with an energy-expensive shield. Buttercup launched towards the man, but he knew she was coming, and jammed the back of his staff into her eye without looking. Bubbles was firing ion beams at him, but he had gotten behind Blossom and she couldn't get a good shot as she was afraid of hitting her own sister.

Blossom began throwing rapid punches at him, all of which the master blocked with his staff, but his grunting told her that she was tiring him out. She fired a surprise heat beam, and on seeing her eyes glow bright, the master tried to dodge it, only to be burned in the upper arm. But it was a quick shot, and Blossom couldn't build up much heat.

Snarling angrily, Master Pang gave Blossom a spinning kick, which she blocked easily without shields. Bubbles flew to another corner of the room to find a better spot to shoot. But things were happening too quickly. The master launched into a fury of staff strikes, and it didn't matter that Blossom was putting up mini-energy shields or blocking with her arm; he was too fast, and she could barely keep up! Until she couldn't. Before she could even prepare for it, she felt the end of his staff in her eye, and she fell to the ground, twirling, rolling until she came to a rest, clutching her eye in excruciating pain. It felt worse than just 'harmless' pain. She could feel her eye swelling up, and she was sure that the staff strike had given her a black eye.

She wouldn't be firing heat beams for a while.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1255.**

While she was listening to her elder sisters' story, Bunny could not help but think back to her own difficulties with what had happened during her crime-fighting operations. After coming back home straight after basically murdering a police officer and his family, she wasn't exactly quite herself when she was ringing the doorbell. After Dad opened the door, she'd greeted him all too meekly before entering looking a little shell-shocked, walking past him a coldly, as if he didn't exist.

"Don't you want a hug?" Dad had offered, putting a hand behind her back, only for her to brush it away and avoid answering his question. All she could think about was the man she had killed, along with his wife and child. He had actually been nice to her, letting her inside to ward off the cold, offering to buy her entire stock of girl scout cookies.

"Bunny, what's wrong?" he'd asked when Bunny walked ahead of him all alone. Instead of answering him, she'd dashed upstairs. "Bunny! Wait!"

It didn't take Dad much time to find Bunny. She had been standing in the balcony, looking at the otherwise ignorantly beautiful suburban horizon, in the middle of swimming in her own tears. He remained silent, deciding that saying anything would do nothing for the kid, and instead came up next to her. He watched the horizon with her, admiring the strength of the slowly-unveiling sun, the eternal sky, and its many elements. The snow was still there, but they would be gone in weeks, and he would be able to bring the quartet out for a spring picnic.

"Fighting crime is hard," Bunny finally opened up cryptically. Her strength, like the eternity of the sky, was admirable for a creature not even half a month old. She'd wrapped her arms around Dad's waist and he gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I hate the things I have to do."

"I know. You're a nice girl, Bunny, and nice girls don't hurt and kill people - but they leave you no choice. These bad people, they-"

"I didn't kill anyone," Bunny interrupted adamantly. "I really didn't."

"It's alright, I believe you," the Dad said, though without really believing her, not because he didn't believe she was honest, but because he knew General Blackwater and some in his staff were surely compelling her to keep quiet about the activities of her operations. He took a peek at Bunny, and from the looks of her, she didn't look comforted by what he'd said at all, nor did she looked like she believed in herself.

"I had to do it. I have to protect Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. I have to protect you and Mom," Bunny repeated to herself. She had been saying the same thing ever since she left Rook's temporary base of operations at 3 Willow Street.

"Yes you do," Dad seemed to agree. But he knew that he was just trying to comfort his youngest adopted lab-grown kid. Whether what she was doing was really good for her elder sisters, or if it was simply what the top brass wanted was another question entirely. There was so much that he wanted to say - that whatever she did, he was sure she'd done it in good conscience - but for the first time, it felt as if he couldn't speak freely any longer. Without knowing what she'd actually done, words might hurt her as surely as Duranium bullets.

Bunny felt starved of the same comfort that Daddy provided. Normally, things would automatically be fine whenever he was around, but now, even her Dad felt small in the wide world. Everything she had done in the name of the law and protecting her family was all coalescing into a glut of bad feeling she couldn't get rid of. She knew she had done some good, but along the way, she knew that it wasn't all good. She had blood on her hands and she knew it, and worse yet, she had to deal with it on her lonesome self, even though her family was often right in front of her.

"Hey, I think there's a cartoon on," Dad offered while Bunny was trapped in her own inner purgatory. It'd dragged her out of there, good old Dad. "I just realized you haven't watched the TV all week. I think you should give it a try. If only you've seen Bugs Bunny! You up for it?"

Good old Dad, making her smile even though she was sure she would never do so again.

"Sure, Dad," Bunny said.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Chinatown. Wuxia Mă Lù.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1202.**

When Bubbles saw Blossom go down, she stopped firing her ion beams and rushed in, believing that she was in peril. She flew in at full speed to tackle Master Pang, only to feel his staff in her midsection. In a fraction of a second, she found herself flying into the ground and skidding a distance. The master had ducked and sidestepped her ever so slightly that all she had done was shred the arm of his tunic.

Buttercup ran up to him after that and launched into a flying kick. Just when she thought she had caught him unawares, she felt his staff in her shin; she crashed into the ground. Getting up quickly, she blocked the master's top-down staff strike with her forearms; the pain forced her arms aside and before she could even behead him with her laser beam, she found herself already knocked aside by his staff to the ear. She couldn't hear anything after that, and the only thing she accomplished was bisecting a Chinese wooden table.

Ignoring the pain sprouting from her eye, Blossom saw an opportunity and leaped for it, seizing Master Pang's Duranium staff. They struggled for a while; with her strength waning from the pain that no little girl should feel, they were in equilibrium despite her sustaining knee strikes from the master's attempt to get her off.

"tú dì men! Chū lái bāng nǐ te shīfu ba!" the master ordered - to who, Blossom did not know. But the recovering Bubbles did. Something in her mind had filtered it, made it understandable. She got up, alarmed.

"Blossom, watch out! They're coming!" Bubbles warned. She wanted to intervene, but two more martial artists had come bursting out of the kitchen, and one of them was leaping towards her, winding up for a hatchet strike. She could see the unusual glow of the ax-heads those new fighters wielded. Those were Duranium too.

The other was running straight for Blossom, who had heard Bubbles but couldn't quite tear the Duranium staff away from Master Pang as he'd been punching and kicking at her while they wrestled for control over the strange staff.

The one going for Bubbles swung his ax at her, but she was able to float aside for every blow aimed at her. Bubbles couldn't even think about counterattacking; the hard and sharp Duranium was freaking her out. However, with time, she found an opening and kicked him towards the recovering Buttercup. The man fell flat on his back after losing his balance. With a wide killer grin plastered on her face, Buttercup stomped on the man's face…

But he'd rolled out of the way quick enough to avoid a brainsplosion. In one smooth motion, the master's disciple had rolled onto his knees, and as Buttercup was charging him, frustrated by her near-hit, brought the blunt side of his ax across Buttercup's ax, knocking her down. She shrieked on the way and tried to get up as fast as she could - only for the disciple to bring his ax down on her thigh.

Buttercup screamed. The ax had gone in deep, and it was a surprise there wasn't a spray of blood. The master's disciple had likely missed the artery by a narrow margin. Buttercup gave him a rough, out-of-form right hook out of panic and reflex, but it was enough to stop him from pulling the ax out.

In the meantime, the other disciple had gone for Blossom. He buried his hatchet in her back, causing her to let go of the master. Bubbles was only able to tackle this second disciple to the ground after the fact. Falling to the ground as she was too distracted by pain to maintain her hover, Blossom reached behind her to pull the ax out, wincing and crying as she did. The axehead was splattered with blood. Her hand shivered as she dropped the thing. She could feel her strength waning.

But Master Pang wasn't letting up. He was leaping for her so fast he might as well be flying with his staff at the ready. But Blossom had learned her lesson. She sidestepped the downward strike aimed at her before kicking off into a hover and launching herself downwards on his staff, forcing it out of his grasp. Jumping up and whirling in the air, she gave him a spinning kick to the chest, sending him flying and screaming into a table, which cracked in two. It looked as though, surely, that this Master Pang had been defeated.

Buttercup and Bubbles, in the meantime, were squaring off with a disciple each, and with their axes out, they both pulled out their weapons, which shined with the same otherworldly glow as their axes. More Duranium.

"Oh, c'mon!" Buttercup exclaimed when she saw it, not even aware that she had just learned to sense Duranium as keenly as her sisters. Her opponent launched at her with his sword held low. Kicking into a hovering position, she dodged left and right as he began slicing his sword at her, and when he went for a wide, horizontal left, she had no choice but to block the blow with her arms - and she regretted her tactic instantly as she felt the skin on the back of her forearms split.

She fired a quick laser beam in response, but she couldn't catch him as he'd already seen her eyes turn red and darted left, cutting her in the upper arm in the meantime.

Bubbles had opted to back away in the meantime, flying to a table far away with her enemy disciple hot on her tail. When she found plates on the table she had landed on, she began chucking them at him, but the martial artist was able to deflect them with his sword, sometimes, cracking them in mid-air. When he was close enough, she became desperate enough do a sonic scream, forcing the man to cover his ears as he was blown away into a pile of furniture. He crashed hard and didn't move after that.

Returning to Blossom's fight, as the dust settled, Blossom squinted at the unmoving Master Pang. Just then, as quickly as he'd landed on his table, he rose, pulling out his MAC-10 and firing at her on full auto. Blossom brought up her energy shield, but some of them had gotten through before she could, stinging her in the chest. She didn't dare let up even when the bullet hailstorm stopped. Taking advantage of this, the master got up and closed in the distance, reloading his machine pistol in the meantime at speeds that would be unattainable to a normal human and firing once more, putting Blossom on the defensive.

When he was close enough, he'd chucked his MAC-10 at Blossom to draw his dao - his was an ornate Chinese single-edged sword. Duranium, of course, from the way it shone. It resembled a frighteningly huge machete. Bringing it across, he sliced at Blossom's energy shield, which gave way after suffering too much abuse from his firearm. He sliced at her once more, and Blossom blocked the next blow with her arm guards. The Kevlar couldn't hold up well to the Duranium, but it'd protected Blossom.

Spinning around like a dancer, he hacked away at Blossom with overhead blows, and over and over, Blossom blocked his devastating strikes with her arm guards until they gave way and the blade drew blood.

Leaping backward, Blossom drew her pistol, only for the master to cut it in half as she fired it, resulting in a chamber explosion that backfired on Blossom.

In the meantime, Buttercup was panting and slumped as she stood before the disciple she was fighting against. She could feel blood dripping down her body at multiple points. She had sustained a few more cuts. The man she was fighting against was likely one of Master Pang's best, and it showed. He was so fast that she even had trouble tracking him with her laser beams.

But she was going to try again anyway. Lighting up her eyes, she fired another laser beam, which the disciple ducked away from, and when she looked down, he would roll way out of her sight and out of view behind a fallen table which she would cut in two only to find no trace of even half a disciple - she'd hoped that she would cut him in two. Instead, the man sat up from the lower half of the fallen table and threw a Duranium dagger at her.

Buttercup was quick enough, however, to catch it in midair by the handle no less. She threw it back at him with an annoyed shout, but the man was already running towards her again, closing the distance, and had deflected the dagger with his sword. With his running start, he leaped into the air and twirled, directing a spinning slice at her, which she dodged. He continued stabbing and slicing at her, distracting her from firing another laser beam while attacking at the same time. She would feel another slice on her ribs, bypassing her Kevlar plates. He would then lean forward for a powerful stab, which she avoided by facing her side.

An opening! Buttercup grabbed him by the sword arm and gave it a hard twist. The man screamed as both of them could hear bony snaps from his arm. He would punch her in the face, but it was far from enough to stun Buttercup, who returned it with interest before lifting him off the ground by the broken arm and slamming him down on the ground. Straddling him, she began punching his face repeatedly, caving it in over and over, and she didn't stop there. She screeched like a mad little girl as she continued pounding his head in until there was nothing but a small head-sized crater in the floor… filled with blood and bone bits and brains.

Exhausted and out of options, Blossom had been on the retreat the whole time, with Master Pang constantly a knife's edge away. The dining hall of the Chinese restaurant was turned upside down the whole time, no longer resembling what it once was.

Blossom stopped and turned around, firing a quick and weak heat beam at the master at the cost of hurting her swollen eye, only for him to block it with his Duranium dao. The huge machete-like sword didn't even look like it'd been heated. When it was for naught, she kicked herself up into a hovering position once more, dodging another swing before swinging her fists in turn, but each of her strikes was met with cold Duranium, and it was hurting her fists.

Bubbles emerged behind Master Pang, having overwhelmed his second accompanying disciple with her sonic scream, but he'd heard her all too well and threw another slice in her direction, hacking her in the side, sending her rolling on the ground once more, this time with an alarming amount of blood splashing in her wake.

"Bubbles!" Blossom shouted, afraid of her sister, before putting on a frown and starting up a renewed flurry of punches and kicks aimed at the master, who continued blocking her blows with his annoyingly smooth and perfect moves. He then counterattacked unexpectedly, hacking at her side as he did with her sister, the agonizing wound causing Blossom to back away, returning to the ground as she clutched her side.

Master Pang's face had been cold all the while, but it'd melted when there was a lull in their fiery exchange.

"I give you one more chance, girl. You leave and I won't chase," the master offered once more. Blossom was actually tempted, but her past experience with a certain other sword-wielding villain had informed her well on what she should do.

"No!" Blossom screamed before running away.

"You fool!" the master shouted and gave chase, swinging his dao in her direction, missing her by mere inches. Blossom ran towards the wall before bouncing on it, dodging another swing by a hair's width. She grabbed the master's single-edged sword by the blunt side and with a heave while air-braking using her X-thrusts, threw him into the same wall. She felt his grip on the terrifying medieval implement fail, and she threw it away - without training in medieval weapons, she didn't know what to do with it.

But the Chinese martial artist wasn't done yet. Drawing his other sword - a Jian, which was a double-edged straight sword - he backed away from Blossom towards the center of the restaurant, the first true signs of pain and fatigue showing. Blood snaked down his nostrils, likely from the force of the impact. He wiped them away quickly. He got into a stance, pointing his sword at Blossom as he rested two fingers of his other arm on the blade of the Jian. The blade glowed brightly in Blossom's vision, actively discouraging her.

With a frustrated shout, Blossom charged the master, only to feel the Duranium slicing across her face as the man danced away from her crude attack. Blossom fell on her knees, clutching her face, blinded by blood and tears.

The master turned to watch Blossom but did not go on. For a fighter of his caliber, it was a huge waste of an opportunity to finally defeat an opponent. But he wasn't wearing the looks of a victorious fighter. Bubbles had been watching him from a distance, still clutching her side to stem the bleeding there, and she could see the look on his face. It was more like concern, or a kind of sadness too complex for her to understand.

"You are good fighter, little girl," Master Pang said. "And children should be cherished. I taught many. I don't enjoy this."

"Well, you're certainly not going to enjoy this!" Buttercup yelled as she charged him with a sword salvaged from one of the master's disciples. Bubbles took this opportunity to hover to Blossom. Taking her leader sister's hands off her face, she examined the wound.

It was terrifying. The master had made a diagonal cut across her face, deep enough to scrape the bone. It had started above her left brow and gone down diagonally to just below her right eye. The bridge of her nose had been ripped most savagely. The pain was so severe that Blossom was hugging Bubbles around the waist and crying into it and wouldn't let go, and Bubbles had given up trying to treat her; it wouldn't be possible anyway as they were in the heat of combat. All she could do was watch Buttercup trying to take on their toughest opponent yet.

The toughest of the three started out strong at first, swinging her sword wildly at the master from her uniquely low vantage point, which the master actually had trouble blocking because of her height. Something was distracting him too.

"You killed my disciple!" he yelled as he continued to parry Buttercup's sword strikes. He'd known what she did, but being in the heat of combat with Blossom, he could do nothing about it. Buttercup's bloody hands had reminded him of the fact.

"And I'm going to kill you!" Buttercup yelled madly as she sustained her attacks, irritated again by how elusive her enemy was. It took some getting used to, but Master Pang was soon spinning out of the way of Buttercup's attacks and parrying her blows with ease, weakened as she was by injury.

Soon, the master had gone on the offensive once more, throwing swings and slices at Buttercup, who blocked his blows clumsily. His attacks came erratically, tactically, coming from all directions and in no discernible patterns.

"Húndàn!" the master cursed before finally finding his opening and stabbing Buttercup in the chest. Bubbles gasped when she saw it. But Buttercup had sidestepped it just enough that the stab had only sliced the skin below her armpit, going through tactical gear and uniform. Still, it'd hurt like high heaven. Withdrawing his blade, he went for more slices, and with Buttercup looking like she was ready to pass out from the pain all over her body, she couldn't block them all. Soon, another cut landed on her wrist, forcing her to drop her salvaged Duranium sword. Blood spurted out from the veins there.

Jumping out of the way, Buttercup drew her pistol, but the master had seen that move before. She was able to get a shot off, but it'd missed when he knocked it out of the way with the flat side of his sword. With a spin and an accurate slice, he managed to cut off the barrel of the pistol, just like what he did with Blossom. Knocking aside Buttercup's pistol arm, who accidentally discharged the damaged pistol, resulting in another chamber explosion, Master Pang directed another slice at Buttercup's head.

But Buttercup was still conscious enough to try to dodge it. She'd only gone sluggish, but it was enough for the unthinkable to happen. Buttercup's left cheek was sliced open, extending her lips closer to the ear. It flapped like loose pieces of cloth as Buttercup screamed, her hand going up to her face, covering the grievous wound. She fell backward, falling to the floor as she continued her boyish screams.

"Stupid girl!" the master said. Again, he'd passed up an opportunity to kill one of them. Instead, he just turned his red gaze on the three of them. "Your powers are no substitute for decades of training!"

Bubbles was able to get Blossom to stop bear-hugging her. She ran to Buttercup to drag her away, but the latter Girl pushed her away.

"Get off me! Don't touch me, Bobble-head!" Buttercup shrieked at her. She'd opted to crawl away on her own power, her hand still covering the unsightly tear on her cheek.

"I gave my warning," Master Pang said, though he'd made no moves. "I do not wish to kill the three of you."

"You seem like a nice man, Mister Pang," Bubbles said as she stepped forward. She'd understood. If it had been someone else, like Mojo Jojo or Mister Lumpkins, or Naga, they would have been executed by now. "But why are you helping these bad people?"

Master Pang did not seem like the type of man to fight them, to defy the law. He was far too merciful, and he didn't talk like the usual criminal types. He didn't look like them either. His unmatched martial skills aside, he appeared to be an ordinary fellow one would meet on the streets on an everyday basis.

"They are my brothers. I have family in the Triad," Master Pang divulged. "They make mistakes. But they are still family. I make mistakes too. I have no choice but to fight you."

"But you do have a choice, we all do!" Bubbles said. "Is it the drugs?" Bubbles had noticed his eyes, which reminded her of her own back when she had nearly killed her own Dad.

It was obvious from the look on his face that Master Pang was rather surprised and taken aback when Bubbles revealed that she knew about the drugs. Little girls weren't supposed to know about those things.

"Yes and no. No, and yes. That wasn't my first mistake. It won't be my last," the master said. "You might not know this girl, but even your family could lead you down a dark path. But they are family all the same."

Little did Master Pang know that Bubbles wasn't as naive as he thought she was.

"We don't get to choose family. We don't get to choose destiny. We will have to fight to the death," the master went on. "Just know that I am sorry." He pointed his sword at Bubbles. "I welcome you to make the first move."

"You don't have to do this," Bubbles insisted. "L-look at what we're doing now… We're talking. Can't we just talk some more? Why can't we all be friends? Even the Amoeba Boys-"

"The Amoeba Boys?" Master Pang interjected quickly. That name meant trouble. The reason why he was roped in by the Triad, forced into protecting it really by some subtle coercion, had been a secret, but it was all making sense now. He lowered his sword. "You're right. We do need to talk."

"You hear that, Blossom, Buttercup?" Bubbles said with a victorious smile, turning to Blossom. "We're just going to talk like friends!" She then turned to Buttercup, wondering how she would take the news. But Buttercup was nowhere to be seen! "Buttercup?"

Bubbles turned to look at Master Pang after scanning around the room. He was wearing a puzzled look, probably wondering what was going on with Bubbles when he stumbled forward. Small, gloved hands were holding tightly onto his shoulders. As he leaned forward in his stumble, Bubbles could see clearly Buttercup's head, with its raven hair and an angry scowl.

"I told you I was going to kill you!" Buttercup screeched. In his panic, Master Pang tried to throw the enhanced little girl off him, but she was too strong. He tried stabbing her too, but with her on his back, he couldn't do anything beyond damaging her uniform and inflicting a superficial cut before his sword was wrenched away from him at an odd angle. A metallic clang informed everyone involved that she had thrown his sword far away.

"Buttercup, no!" Bubbles yelled. It was only at this time that Blossom found the strength to even stand up; it was then that she realized she had lost control of Buttercup when she was incapacitated by pain. "He's a friend!"

But Buttercup did not listen. She shoved a hand into the master's mouth while he was screaming and got a grip on his upper jaw by the teeth. With her other hand, she did the same with his lower jaw. With all her strength, she began pulling them apart; the master just kept on screaming and trying to fling Buttercup off him while trying to wrench her hands off, but she was far too strong. Soon, cracking could be heard, and after that, his jaws just gave way. As if electrocuted, the master stood still, and when Buttercup pulled his lower jaw off, he finally fell to his knees.

"But…ter…cup?" Bubbles mumbled in shock as she watched her new friend sinking to the floor in a pool of his own blood. Buttercup, however, cared little about her meekest sister's feelings and stepped over the fallen Master Pang's body as she walked towards Blossom and Bubbles.

"Ew… He's gross," Buttercup commented before throwing the master's lower jaw over her shoulder.

"Why did you-!?" Bubbles couldn't even finish her sentence. The sight before her was too horrifying. Well, more horrifying than the others that came before it. "You didn't need to kill him! He was my friend!"

"Your friend!?" Buttercup cried before wincing. Her hand went up to the gaping wound in her cheek. It would hurt whenever she so much as open her mouth slightly. The feeling of her skin flapping like flags or window blinds made her uneasy, pain aside. "Your friend did this to me, Bubbles!" She showed the meek one her split cheek, more out of scorn than to prove a point. Predictably, Bubbles shrunk away from the sight of that wound, horrified. She could see the rest of Buttercup's teeth through the wound, as well as the inside of her mouth more than she normally could, even if briefly.

"I'm going to have so much trouble eating…" Buttercup muttered and winced. She spat a fat glob of blood onto the ground. Her hand went back up to the wound, covering it. Her gloved hand had been soaked instantly, and blood was dripping down from it.

Blossom, in the meantime, was silent. The blood and gore were far more than she anticipated. It wasn't just Master Pang. Looking around her, there were numerous dead bodies. One of the master's disciples lay on the ground, headless with the remains of his head all around the neck, pulp-like. Flies were already beginning to swarm around the grey matter and red.

The police would arrive soon after. Mister Mullens and his task force would pay a surprise visit, but beyond a simple greeting and some much-needed hugs, he wasn't as talkative as he used to be. Much of his talking was done when he told them that the Triad's leadership was intercepted and killed by an unidentified drive-by convoy shortly after they vacated the restaurant, and he'd told them with a hint of accusation, something that had affected Blossom most deeply. After answering some questions and showing the police investigators around the restaurant, the Powerpuff Girls flew away for some much-needed medical attention and love from their Dad, Professor Utonium.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1348.**

"And- and- he was actually nice too but we were fighting and I don't feel good that he's now dead even though we were fighting…" Blossom cried towards the end of her story; she was barely able to make any sense, but the professor understood. He wrapped a towel around her after finishing up with the stitching and application of antiseptics and painkillers. "I'm sorry I had to kill someone but I didn't want to-"

"Blossom, stop," the professor comforted the Girl. "I understand. Whatever motivation they had, it doesn't matter. Just look at the three of you! Look at how they cut the three of you up!" He gestured to Buttercup, who had long passed out in her hospital bed from a mix of exhaustion, pain and the effects of her medication. He had to tend to her first as her split cheek was the worst injury between the three of them.

"Thanks, Dad," Blossom replied sullenly. She'd kept her eyes closed to stop herself from crying. She felt Dad's hand on her shoulder, and despite the pain all over her body, she managed to smile when she felt the professor's love once more. It was precious, considering how rare he'd been expressing it lately, what with Bunny hogging it all.

But the feeling didn't last. Opening her eyes up, the first thing she saw was Bunny, who had been assisting with the professor's medical work, transporting instruments and medication, doing little things like that to help. Selicia - Mom - was beside her, rubbing her hand against the back of her head as she was cleaning Duranium instruments at the basin. As if she knew, Bunny turned to return her gaze, and they made eye contact.

Bunny's gaze felt judgemental, but then Blossom knew that it was all her all along - despite her honesty this time around, she was still being deceitful all around. She had painted herself as a victim this one time and had neglected to mention that she had been the aggressor all along, and working with Townsville's biggest trio of crimelords, to add to her guilt. Good ol' Dad had assumed that she had been working with the police, and remained a victim for every single one of her operations because of how she had been dragged into law enforcement since her creation.

It hardly felt like it, but Blossom thought it would be worth it. Townsville would be safe after all this and Bunny would be left with just the remnants of the various criminal factions to deal with. But most importantly, at least Dad would be paying more attention to her whenever she fought crime. Yes, he'd comfort her, and be proud of her. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Still, it felt as if she had killed one too many…

* * *

**A/N: That was long. Due to the length of the fight, there was no clear way to separate this into two parts. The only option is to leave it as one part. Do let me know if I can execute this chapter any better if you have any ideas.**


	92. Chapter 86: Undesired Help

**Reply to Guest: Yep it would be awesome if this is turned into an actual show! It'd likely end up as an adult swim cartoon like Samurai Jack though. Personally? I think it's more fitting if its a dark live-action series or series of movies.**

**Chapter 86: Undesired Help**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1420.**

"Buttercup… Ohhh, Buttercup…" the tomboy could hear a voice calling out to her, singing her name. It was a male voice, though she couldn't be sure. She found it annoying. All she wanted to do was just lie down there all the way to the weekends if she could. The last crime-fighting operation had taken a heavy toll on her, and she just wanted to be left alone. "Buttercup…" the voice sang out to her.

"What!?" Buttercup yelled before sitting up. Her slit cheek still stung. She'd accidentally pulled the stitches there which were holding it together. It was dark all around her. All she saw was a silhouette in the dark. A rather odd silhouette. She couldn't even make out the shape of it, but she thought she saw claws. Whoever it was turned abruptly, and all she noticed were red eyes, shining glaringly bright, searing her mind.

Buttercup opened her eyes. Was it a dream?

"Buttercup… Hey… Buttercup," another voice was calling out to her, and this time, it was most certainly a male voice. She felt a large hand gently enclosing around her upper arm. She had been lying on her good side, facing away from the usual place where Dad would work whenever he was at the medical side of the lab.

She'd ignored him at first. The dream had commanded her attention. Was the silhouette her new, powerful friend?

"Buttercup…" Dad had insisted on waking her up. Annoyed, Buttercup rolled onto her back gently, and let him know sternly how she felt by giving him the look. "Sorry. I know you're tired and hurting, but it's time for lunch. A recovering Girl's gotta eat." He'd said the last part jokingly, but Buttercup wasn't even tempted at all to laugh. She didn't even so much as say a word.

It'd worried the professor profoundly. Earlier today, he had received a call from Miss Keane, who was equally worried about Buttercup. Apparently, she'd gone completely cold and anti-social.

"I know it'll be hard for you to eat with your mouth, but I don't think you'd want the alternative…" the professor went on. He felt guilty about it all. Before Bunny came into the picture, he hadn't been the warmest of fathers to Buttercup. Although his reactions to her shenanigans were more than justified, he'd felt that he could have done something more, something better. With Bunny, he'd hardly paid any attention to Buttercup.

"What's the 'alternative'?" Buttercup asked. Though she didn't quite know the meaning of 'alternative', she could figure out what it meant based on the context of their chat.

"I could always put you on the drip, feed you through a needle," the professor said. The thought of being poked some more in the lab had gotten her attention. Buttercup sat up immediately with difficulty, discovering that she was still in a kid's patient gown. Gently, the professor helped her up. Had he been anyone else (like Bubbles), Buttercup would have pushed him away.

"Come on, your dear sisters are waiting," the professor said. Looking around her, Buttercup realized that there was no one else. Blossom, Bubbles, and Bunny had already gone on up. "Can you still hover? I can carry you if you want."

Buttercup forced herself to hover even though it was hurting her thigh and side, which had been hacked with Duranium hatchet and sword respectively. The stitches in those places hurt as they were still fresh. Professor Utonium could tell from the look on her face that she wasn't exactly having a grand time floating beside him as they headed up the stairs.

They ascended in silence, and Buttercup wouldn't want it any other way. There was nothing to be had from Dad except food and other goodies.

The professor then came to a stop in the middle of the stairs.

"Buttercup, how about if we stop for a moment?" the professor asked the toughest of the three. "I can tell that you're in pain."

"I don't care," Buttercup said coldly, and wouldn't even deign to look at him. The professor sighed, before doubling down and sitting down on the steps of the lab stairs.

"Come on. Won't you sit down next to me?" the professor pleaded with Buttercup, patting on the space beside him. Buttercup folded her arms as she continued to look away. But she knew she couldn't hold out forever - somewhere in her head, in that silver lining scarring her brain where emotions she wouldn't have felt otherwise would erupt from, she felt connected, still, to Dad, no matter how annoyed and angry she was at him.

Grudgingly, she allowed herself to float down to the steps, sitting next to the professor. Her arms were still crossed, and she was leaning away from the professor as if he was made of concentrated acid. When the professor wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him, he could feel how stiff she became. It was rather upsetting. Since when did he become the enemy?

"Buttercup, what's wrong?" he asked as gently as he could.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" Buttercup said without looking at him.

"Mad about what?" the professor asked. Nothing had crossed his mind as to what Buttercup was talking about.

"Blossom told you everything, didn't she?" Buttercup said. "I heard her before I fell asleep. She told you everything."

So that was what this was about. The professor sighed. He was still unable to come to terms with the fact that Buttercup had inherited the DNA of a psychopathic half-Japanese kindergarten girl. It all wasn't meant to be; their accidental creation and his luck of inheriting three beautiful Girls as his own had come at a cost, as if this was all some fairy tale.

"Yes, she did," the professor said.

"So you're mad at me," Buttercup asserted.

"While I would have preferred that you didn't kill this 'Master Pang' and one of his disciples… I can understand why you did, Buttercup," the professor said, and Buttercup was surprised by his acceptance of her violence.

"Really?" Buttercup couldn't believe her ears. Normally, this would be one of those times when her Dad would fly off the handle.

"Yeah! I mean, just look at you!" the professor said, still looking like he couldn't believe what had befallen Buttercup and her sisters. "I was actually afraid I would miss a cut or two when I saw how much of a trainwreck you were, and I'm probably one of the best surgeons in the city!"

Buttercup, however, didn't know what to say. She hadn't really spoken to her Dad in any meaningful way, and she found that there was never really any connection between the two of them, not that she ever felt any need to connect with him. With the numerous fallout between them due to her actions outside, her discovery of a potential ally of great power and… her recent realizations surrounding her family, neither did she felt that it was all ever going to change.

"Buttercup, you have to tell me something," the professor went on again, switching gears.

"What?" she asked.

"Have you been killing anyone else before the Chinese Triads?" he asked. Buttercup stared at him and he stared back at her. She wondered, just briefly, if she should come clean with her activities - well, she and her sisters' activities. But it was an easy question to answer. Why should she care? "I promise I won't get mad."

"No…" Buttercup said, still looking into Dad's eyes without breaking contact at all for a single second. To do so would undermine what she was trying to accomplish. "No, Dad." The professor searched her eyes for a long-drawn-out moment, before sighing once more and stroking her head.

"Are you alright there, sport? I mean, on the inside. You've been really quiet lately," the professor changed topics once more, catching Buttercup off-guard. It wasn't really something she wanted to talk about. Honesty had never resulted in anything good for her, and she had so much to hide nowadays.

"I'm fine, Dad. Just… tired," Buttercup lied.

"You sure?" the professor asked again. It'd annoyed the enhanced little Girl, but she didn't want to blow her cover by losing it.

"Yes…" she said impassively. If the professor could tell that she was hiding something, he wasn't showing it.

"Look…" and he wouldn't just end it too. He took her by the hands gently, avoiding the cut on her wrist inflicted by Master Pang. "I know I've been rough with you. I'd be stupid to not realize it-"

'Duh,' Buttercup thought. She could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"-But I was just looking out for you. What you were doing... will haunt you in the future. You've already made a lot of ghosts, but that doesn't mean it has to continue," the professor went on, and Buttercup found him a little hard to follow, having a limited understanding of speaking due to her months-old age, but she sort of understood… not that she cared.

"I didn't kill anyone else," Buttercup claimed for good measure.

"I know… I know…" the professor cooed gently, but Buttercup thought he sounded stupid. "It's why I trusted you and gave you back your powers, Buttercup. I knew you'd do well with your enhancements. You don't know it yet, but you have it within yourself to do good, you really do."

By that, the professor meant the Chemical-X-induced anomaly in her brain, which connected her psionically to her sisters. It was the only thing that could give her any measure of empathy and kindness at all. It was like a silver lining in the clouds. It was hope, even if the anomaly hardly ever expressed itself.

Personally, Buttercup hated it, even though she knew nothing about it except the odd burst of feelings that would suddenly appear within her. She hated it all the same, as it seemed outside her nature.

"I guess…" Buttercup droned on.

"Great," the professor said, his tone shifting to something a little more cheerful. Releasing Buttercup's hands, he jumped to his feet. "Now, how about we head up for lunch? It's way overdue. Want me to carry you? You don't look so good when you were flying."

"Sure," Buttercup acquiesced to his request, deciding that she might as well take advantage of it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1446.**

It was the latest lunch Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup had ever had in their lives. It was originally supposed to be hamburgers and onion rings, but mashed potatoes were added for the benefit of Blossom and Buttercup, whose faces were mutilated enough to make it painful to eat.

Buttercup, especially, was having difficulty even opening her mouth wide enough to accept the hamburger. Any movement with her mouth, anything that would stretch her cheek even slightly and agitate her Glasgow smile would cause intense pain. She would whine every other time as she tried desperately to sate her hunger while feeling pain every time she was putting something in her mouth or chewing.

She was so pitiful that everyone had forgotten that she was supposed to be Buttercup - the toughest of the three, the tomboy and the delinquent, to put it lightly. The previous time she had suffered a Glasgow smile was back in the day when the three of them were fighting in the Morbucks Industries Research Labs, but she didn't really suffer the post-traumatic consequences of the injury back then as she'd been unconscious while her split cheek mended, and by the time she woke up, it was split no longer.

Mom had to go over to help her with her food. She would proceed to cut her hamburger up into tiny little pieces and feeding them to her in such a way that she didn't have to open her mouth much. "Take small little bites… Don't chew so hard," she would say.

Then the doorbell rang. Who it was, the professor had no idea. He wasn't expecting anyone.

As Selicia was preoccupied with Buttercup and the elder three Girls were too injured, Professor Utonium and Bunny went to answer the door. How their new guests had sneaked up on them, the professor did not know - usually, he'd either hear a car or see it at the window, but he'd boiled it down to the most recent tragedy keeping them focused on the family.

The professor was standing ready when Bunny reached for the door and opened it wide.

He'd known it would be someone he didn't quite like, and it didn't matter whether he knew them well or not.

General Blackwater stood before him like a bear deciding whether to maul him. Crammed beside him was someone new, someone holding a clipboard like how Wiggums would have. However, this new man was dressed in the USDO's gray security uniform. Behind him was a man with a trolley loaded with crates.

It all felt too familiar. It wasn't the first time General Blackwater had visited on one pretension or another.

"General Blackwater, sir," Bunny saluted the general immediately, and the big guy saluted her back casually before reaching out to stroke her in the head. Bunny smiled affectionately, and the professor didn't like it. He still had many questions regarding their connection, and his speculations could only take a wild, dark turn.

"What are you doing here?" the professor was almost growling at the general, though the way the general was looking at him resembled someone who was observing a kitten trying to snarl.

"A few things," General Blackwater said vaguely. He gestured at the security officer beside him. "This man here is the new Chief of Logistics."

The new Chief of Logistics reached a hand out to the professor. "Captain Tanner. You must be Professor Utonium. Nice to meet you," the new logistician greeted robotically. It didn't help that he was wearing shades and looking like some shady fellow. The professor did not accept his handshake.

"With the way things are going, logistics should fall under my jurisdiction from now on," General Blackwater said.

"Yeah, what wouldn't?" the professor said cynically, intending it to sting the general, but it would take an ICBM to even make a dent, it seemed.

"I need you to sign these receipts, professor," Captain Tanner, the new Chief of Logistics, said mechanically. The professor did not like anything about the man. He seemed devoid of humanity, of passion. He knew, just knew, that he was merely General Blackwater's puppet. All this 'Captain Tanner' had done was to remind him that Wiggums had been killed in some USDO fuck-up of which he knew nothing about - of course, they'd keep it from him!

Glancing down at Bunny, the professor noticed something else though. She seemed just as upset as he was. He knew what she was feeling, what it meant. Wiggums was her friend too, and she was, of course, sad that he'd passed.

"What is all this?" the professor took the clipboard from the logistics soldier roughly, caring nothing about how he might feel. As far as he was concerned, he might well be incapable of feeling anything.

"Materials, equipment, weapons, and essentials for the bioweapons, sir," Captain Tanner said bluntly. Professor Utonium greeted his teeth. "And other miscellaneous equipment. It's all there in the papers."

"Don't you dare call them 'bioweapons' again! Especially not in front of them!" the professor barked at the officer.

"Isn't that what they are?" the officer said defiantly - though that wouldn't be the right word. The professor, in professional terms, would be the defiant one as he was the junior-ranker ever since he'd vacated his position on the USDO council.

The professor ignored the captain, and scanned through the list of items delivered:

**WEAPONS**

_H&K MP5 - 3ea (Note: spares in case of irreversible damage to previous stocks)_

_H&K MP5 (fully modded) - 1ea (Note: spare)_

_P226 Compact - 3ea (Note: spares)_

_M9 Beretta (fully modded) - 1ea (Note: spare)_

_9mm pistol cartridges - 4,000rds_

**EQUIPMENT**

_Power Armor Repair Kit - 1set (Note: for B-50 to repair armor)_

_Firearms Cleaning-_

The professor did not continue reading. He didn't like how the receipt looked. It'd reminded him too much of how the Girls were risking their neck for people who cared nothing for them, and it was enough that they'd come back broken once more. But wait, there's more! Soon, Bunny would have to carry that burden for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, all alone!

Caring little for the paperwork, Professor Utonium signed it haphazardly before pushing the clipboard into the captain's hands.

"Now what do you want?" the professor asked the general again.

"A routine visit and briefing with your… 'Girls'," the general said. "Now out of my way!" The general didn't really even shove the professor aside - a nudge from him was enough to clear the way. Bunny had witnessed this, which upset her. With the number of enemies out there in the world, couldn't those who remain be friends?

The general went past Bunny, followed by Captain Tanner and another soldier, who wheeled the trolley full of equipment into The House. But that wasn't all. Coming out of the cab of an APC was someone else, someone who Bunny missed greatly.

Nana Weston. Bunny couldn't move when she saw her, mainly because she didn't know how to react, being overwhelmed by joy. Instead, she just stood there smiling, leaning by the door as Nana walked towards her, herself smiling too in that gray security uniform of hers. She scooped Bunny up into a hug the moment she came close enough, the both of them laughing.

"As you can see, Professor Utonium, you're not the only person in your 'daughter's life," the general remarked, his words garnering even more ire from the professor. He had been very tactical with the timing of his remark. Bunny was too preoccupied to listen, and the sarcasm would have gone right over her head.

The general had been looking at Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup at the kitchen, who were eating, but while he was crossing the living room to get to them, he stepped on something hard in the carpet. A lump in the ground. He removed his boot from the object to see what it was.

And it turned out to be a bullet. Looking around the living room, he saw that there was a trail of expended rounds leading into the lab, likely coming from the Girls. He'd heard the report. This time around, it was a vicious battle. Quite predictably, the Girls, under Blossom, were completely tactless in their approach against the enemy, resulting in a bloodbath that didn't quite yield as many benefits as he'd hoped.

Sergeant Selicia stood at attention the moment he entered the kitchen.

"At ease," he said while looking down at Buttercup, who whined her last before falling silent. She looked absolutely wretched, as did Blossom. Bubbles was the least haggard and appeared much better off than her sisters - predictably. Although recent reports about Bubbles' crime-fighting performance had been better, he still could not help but believe that she was still being her cowardly self, letting her sisters take the brunt of the enemy attacks while keeping herself safe.

Buttercup and Blossom were still in their patient gowns. The general came closer to them to examine their wounds and saw how grievous they were. It was no wonder they were still wearing those loose-fitting lab rags! He bent down, cupping Buttercup's chin in his gigantic hand and gently turning her neck so that he could see. He examined the Glasgow smile on her cheek. It'd begun to heal, but not by much. He looked behind Blossom and could just about see her massive ax wound through the thin fabric of her patient gown. Even he would cringe at such a wound - he would rather get shot than to take an ax to the back.

"Thanks to you, Blossom and Buttercup could barely even move," the professor said. He'd sneaked up on the general while he was examining the Girls.

The general growled unintelligibly as he straightened up. "Well, you're about to thank me for something else," he said.

"Why?" the professor asked.

"I'm taking 'The Powerpuff Girls' program offline," the general boomed, making damn sure that everyone in the room could hear him. He turned to look at Blossom, whose face appeared pale as she stared at him with that needy look, with eyes framed by eyebags of hardship. "I think it's time Bunny proves herself as a complete replacement to them. Besides, Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup are in no condition for combat."

Professor Utonium's expression of cynicism didn't change one bit despite the good news.

"Isn't this what you want? Why the long face?" the general said. "I feel like I'm talking to a child sometimes."

The professor turned his gaze on Bunny, who was still in the middle of hugging Nana, trying to catch up.

"It's Bunny, isn't it?" the general said. "Of course it is. You need to learn how to stop falling in love with every lab subject you touch!"

"What have you been doing to her?" the professor questioned the man as he glared at him. But of course, it wasn't going to intimidate him.

"I've been giving her what she wants," the general claimed. "And she wants to protect you and your family. Now, we're moving onto phase 2 of that general idea, just so you'll get to take your… 'kids' out to a picnic or whatever it is you're doing with them."

The general would then move on to brief the various members of the 'Utonium family' on what their goals were. Selicia had been given the additional responsibility of fortifying the house - apparently, those boxes contained the beginnings of siege-resistant upgrades for their doors and windows, with more materials on the way.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were told to just rest and let Bunny take over. Blossom was conflicted - being a crimefighter had become a source of pride for her; a way for her to gain dear ol' Dad's approval and attention, a way for her to see her friends (both new and old, on one side of the law or the other). While Blossom hated Bunny for taking it away, the last battle had gotten her thinking about what she'd been doing for the Amoeba Boys.

It gave Buttercup a reason to hate Bunny too, as hurting and killing criminals had become the only way for her to feel or enjoy anything. Bubbles was the only one of The Powerpuff Girls to be overjoyed over this news. It seemed all but certain then that Dad's promise to liberate her from the duties of law enforcement was coming into fruition. Besides, she felt happy for Bunny, who had grown so quickly - almost as much as they did in the past 3 months. Within days, she might even surpass them all.

Bunny certainly did not mind at all. It was as if everything she could ever want in life was already there. Her entire family was still around. Sure, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were hurt badly in their last operation, but they were alive, and the news that she would be taking over their role entirely couldn't come at a better time. General Blackwater had visited, bringing Nana with him, and he promised, with some hesitation, that he would allow Doctor Simmons to visit at some point.

If only he could promise to bring Wiggums back too…


	93. Chapter 87: Memories

**A/N: To view the artwork embedded near the bottom in this chapter, go to the same chapter in the Archive of Our Own version of this story**

**A/N: (11 MAR 2020) Edited Buttercup's food choice to account for her facial injuries.**

* * *

**Chapter 87: Memories**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Sal's Milk Bar.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1621.**

Mister Mullens and company's next meet-up with the Powerpuff Girls was unusual. Normally, they were all chatterboxes whenever they'd meet, but now, everything was unusually quiet. But that wasn't the only change in tone.

For one thing, Mister Mullens had brought half his task force over to the bar. Though Sal, the owner of the bar, was glad to have his store patronized by an influx of cops (accompanied by the Powerpuff Girls, no less!), he couldn't help but worry that the kids and teenagers that formed his usual customer base sitting in their little corners were intimidated - it'd mean having his business affected in the long run.

Blossom couldn't figure out why Mister Mullens would change up their weekly meet-up this way. She could already tell that it wouldn't be as fun. Leaning carefully against the back of her seat on her less-injured shoulder, she waited for her strawberry milkshake to arrive. It wouldn't be too long now, as she observed that half of Mullens' Lombardi task force hadn't ordered anything beyond light snacks and mineral water. She observed the crowd in the room. They were mostly plainclothes officers, but everyone in Townsville knew how a cop looked like, and Blossom was fast catching up. Some of them were staring back at her, and some of those people were giving her the look - a kind of condescending, accusing glare.

She turned her eyes to the outside in an attempt to find something less distressful to look at. Her eyes followed an apartment up to its roof, then to the billboard, and it was here where she noticed another oddity of the day.

It was her! And it wasn't just her! Now, even Bubbles and Buttercup were pictured on the billboard. They weren't illustrations either. They were photographs. Young though she was, Blossom could tell the difference. This time, all three of them were posing as if they were in the middle of a firefight, though it was clearly just photography.

'The Powerpuff Girls - Storming the breach against crime!' the title and subtitle read respectively.

Blossom couldn't remember ever posing for such a photograph. What on Earth was going on?

"You look too bored for someone so young," a familiar voice said to her. An old, gravelly voice. Blossom turned to it. Garrett Mullens, the old detective. He slipped into the seat opposite her, looming over her like a giant.

"Hi, Mister Mullens…" Blossom greeted him again. She'd previously done so when she got out of the family sedan.

"How are you feeling? I'm surprised your Dad allowed you to leave the house, considering," he said.

"I'm fine…" Blossom muttered nervously. She found herself playing with the napkin on the table she was sitting behind.

"Are you?" the detective said cryptically. There it was again. He sounded skeptical about something. Blossom didn't dare look at him.

Silence prevailed for a minute. The waitress came and went, delivering milkshakes to the both of them. "Enjoy," she said absentmindedly before walking away to serve another batch of lactic goodness.

"Is there something - anything - you want to tell me?" Mister Mullens asked him. There was a vague undertone of desperation, barely felt by Blossom. The detective was not one to beg, even when it came to a little girl, or an enhanced uber-human, whichever took precedence.

"I missed you…" Blossom mumbled and forced a smile. "That's all."

Mullens didn't look convinced at all. He leaned back, decided to back off. There was no sense ruining the party atmosphere - or at least what remained of one after the maiming of the Girls, after the change in their professional arrangements. Picking up his milkshake, he took a sip from the straw and winced. He was still not used to the taste, the texture. He hadn't drank milkshake for decades before he met the Girls. His beverage of choice had been hard alcohol for a long time until recently, that had changed thanks to the Girls too.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Sal's Milk Bar.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1624.**

Bubbles, on the other hand, was playing with her milkshake, unable to face the being sitting on the stool next to her.

"Raren't you gonna ralk to re?" he said. Bubbles didn't reply immediately. She didn't know how to even begin. Ever since the resolution of her drug problem, she hadn't really talked to Stanley, not during their third month's birthday, not just now, when he was there alongside Mister Mullens to assess the damage she and her sisters had done to the Chinese Triad. "Rurrles?"

"Are we still friends?" Bubbles finally managed to squeak, almost swallowing her words as she wasn't sure if she had chosen the right words. Every word felt like a landmine.

"Rof course, Rurrles," the talking dog said. With some difficulty, it enclosed the straw sticking out of its cup of milkshake with its lips before taking a suck of the flavored milk. Human tools were weird for him. He then puts its foreleg around Bubbles' shoulders before continuing: "Ri runderstand rhat you rere going through. Ri ron't blame you for hurting me. Resides, Ri'm rall better r-now. Took just days to heal."

Bubbles didn't reply again.

"Are you rokay, Rurrles?" the sentient dog asked again. He whined under his breath, tried to keep the expression of his worries down to a minimum. With his animal instincts still strong, the fact that he could keep his reactions under control was herculean in itself.

"I can still feel it, Mister Talker," Bubbles said. Her hands tightened around whatever they happened to be grasping; her cup and her napkin.

"Feel rhat?" Stanley asked.

"It's still inside me," Bubbles mumbled. Just thinking about it made her hands shake. Seeing Master Pang had reminded her of her own addictions, brought it up to the forefront once more. Those red eyes on him were very much like hers, veins popped up, glowing red.

"You rean the drugs?" Stanley asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question. He knew what she meant.

"I still want it," Bubbles said hungrily, and she wasn't thirsting for her milkshake. "Even though it doesn't feel as bad."

"Rut you're fighting rit," the talking dog tried to encourage her, and could only hope that he did.

"I know its wrong. I don't want to hurt Daddy again, or Blossom, or Buttercup, or B-" Bubbles stopped the moment she realized who she was going to mention. General Blackwater had expressly told her not to discuss Bunny with anyone else but those who already knew about her. He'd repeated that order again when he realized it was milk bar day with Detective Mullens.

"Ror who?" the talking dog asked, and when Bubbles remained quiet, he assumed that she was just struggling with her unresolved addiction and couldn't talk right.

"Nothing," she finally said.

"Ri can runderstand. Ri used to want to reat ranimals ralive," Stanley confessed. It was back in the days when he had just escaped confinement from the USDO, then named Organization. He had to resort to desperate measures to survive, hunting to fill his stomach, sometimes chomping down on his hapless prey even while they were still squawking and struggling. As he was constantly on the run, he didn't have the luxury of executing his prey painlessly. He was already sentient then and understood how inhumane it was. It ate at him just like how he ate his prey. The satisfaction of the hunt got to him, but if dogs have souls, then it felt as if he might have lost a part of it. It was said that all dogs go to heaven, but Stanley wasn't so sure about that back then.

"Oh… That's bad… Do you still want to? Eat other animals, I mean…" Bubbles muttered, still trapped in her own little cave of misery.

"No, not really. Besides, reating ranimals raw don't taste as good as cooked meals," Stanley said. "So you see, Rurrles, rit won't be bad forever."

For some reason, Bubbles didn't quite find the talking dog's account of his struggles with 'addiction' comforting.

In the meantime, Buttercup was being accompanied by Junior Detective Olivia, but not much had been going on between them, no conversations to be had. Instead, Buttercup had been taking full advantage of Mister Mullens' generosity. She was sipping up her second glass of mint chocolate milkshake, and that was after having a banana split, though that was no match for the chocolate sundae she had at first. The best part? They weren't hard on her fresh Glasgow smile!

"So… I take it that the food's great?" Olivia said for the lack of topic of discussion.

"Yeah, and the milkshake too," Buttercup said in between sips.

"I bet the massacre at Wuxia Street's even better…" Olivia muttered sarcastically under her breath. She was still bitter over the kills Buttercup had made at the Chinese restaurant where the Powerpuff Girls had raided the Chinese Triad's front. Many were killed where they would have otherwise been more useful alive.

"Of course it is," Buttercup said, surprising Olivia. She'd muttered really quietly, and Buttercup wasn't supposed to hear it. Unknown to her, Buttercup's hearing was enhanced, and all she had to do was focus it to hear even the faintest of sounds. In the end, Olivia had put it down to her own carelessness, however, thinking that she had spoken too loud without knowing it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Smith Cottages.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2213.**

Bunny had scarcely the time to recover from her grief when she was called upon to execute another operation. This time, it was a raid on a police precinct that was tipped off to be staffed predominantly by corrupt cops, which was made known to the USDO by its intelligence agents. It was a chance to hobble the insiders in the Townsville Police Department. While it wouldn't destroy the top echelon of its hierarchy - only temporarily paralyze its middle managers - it was a step in the right direction towards gaining the upper hand… especially if she could take the police chief there alive for interrogation.

She had arrived a distance from the Smith Cottages as usual, as dictated by standard operating procedures pertaining to black ops and stealth missions. She was briefed in a USDO safehouse by a USDO intelligence agent, who directed her towards the area via the underground metro tunnels. As she had to approach the area undetected, it was the only way. It had been days into her intervention on crime in Townsville, and it was projected by USDO intelligence that all the elements of crime might already be suspecting her involvement.

In the metro tunnels, she had free reign to dash at high speeds towards the Outskirts, but she had to get out of the way of incoming trains every so often. It was a new experience for her, but something she quickly got used to. At least it didn't involve killing innocent people - that was something she was grateful for.

And she was there within minutes, despite having to dash all the way to the end of the line. Under the cover of underground darkness, she made her way through service tunnels and staff rooms in a route she memorized with a map shown to her by Rook. The only event of note on the way was when she had to knock out a metro maintenance worker before he noticed her. Rook had allowed her to - just - incapacitate any innocents in the way, something she was grateful towards him for.

After going through the sewers and ending up in the basement of a maintenance station, she stopped for a minute to prepare herself. It was that time of the day again when she'd have to start killing for the good of her family, and for good people in general. She was just terrified, terrified that she would have to silence any innocent people caught in the crossfire.

She sat there with her knees tucked up to her chest, hiding behind a shelf, rocking herself like a lunatic. She closed her eyes, tears threatening to spill. She thought back to the past. 'Think happy thoughts', her Dad once told her, back when she barely knew how to speak. But there was a more recent memory, one that gave her so much hope where there was little in the first place…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1514.**

"Bonk!" Bubbles imitated a Puppet Pal, Mitch, as she tried her best to control the actual puppet version of the TV character. She couldn't help but giggle after that when she saw that she had actually managed to hit Blossom's puppet Clem.

"Bonk who?" Blossom imitated her own TV character, though her tone was anything but a match to Bubbles. Instead, she sounded like she was going to cry. It'd made Bubbles upset to see her sister this way.

"What's wrong, Blossom?" Bubbles asked, putting down little puppet Mitch. The purple-skinned, top hat-wearing skinny puppet clattered on the mini-stage they had set up. Blossom and Bubbles had even arranged an elaborate puppet stage for the 'show'. Blossom did the same, letting his shorter, fatter Clem drop. Bunny had been watching them control the puppets and found it sad that she couldn't watch the show that Bubbles promised to put up for her. "Did I do it wrongly?"

"No, it's just…" Blossom tried to explain, but she found it hard to.

"You were good, Blossom," Bubbles said, thinking that perhaps Blossom wasn't confident in her own puppeteering skills. "You were the one who taught me how to move Mitch, remember? After I got Dad to buy us the puppets at the puppet show?"

"It's not that!" Blossom suddenly yelled, causing everyone to jump. The only person who was spared this sudden outburst was Buttercup, who had confined herself in the walk-in closet after their late lunch and meeting with General Blackwater. Despite getting an injection from Dad reluctantly, she was still in pain, and last the other Girls checked, she was sitting in there and hugging 'Blankie', a torn towel that used to belong to Mom. Like how Blossom was starved of Dad's attention, Buttercup hadn't been able to spend much time with Mom at all, partly due to Bunny but also partly due to her.

"I… I'm sorry," Blossom apologized quickly after yelling. She quickly fell back into herself, unaware of her surroundings. "It's just… Those people we killed…"

"Blossom!" Bubbles gasped, her hands going up to her hands. She turned to look at Bunny, shocked. She was expecting Bunny to react in the same way, except she didn't. Instead, she just looked concerned about Blossom. "We weren't supposed to talk about that in front of Bunny…" She'd said that with resignation. The damage was done. Bunny heard.

"Talk about what?" Bunny asked, her slightly deeper voice sounding like some kind of warning. But it was too late.

"We… we've been killing criminals," Bubbles said, herself feeling as culpable for everything that had happened since she had always been in the position to stop Blossom and Buttercup from killing anyone else. It just didn't feel right, knocking out her sisters after what she nearly did on the behest of the Fairy Godmother back when she was hooked on His Secret 2.0.

"I know it was all to help the three of them turn a new leaf, and… for Townsville's good but…" Blossom mumbled again. "Killing is bad and… I've been killing… I'm confused."

Bunny got up next to Blossom, putting her hand gently on her shoulder. She knew exactly how Blossom felt. She'd wished that she could talk all about her missions and what she'd been doing out there, to show Blossom that they were in the same boat together, but it was impossible. Her missions were all classified.

"Killing isn't wrong as long as you're killing the right people and keeping us safe. That's what General Blackwater said," Bunny said, before putting her head on Blossom's shoulder. Bubbles stared at Bunny, refusing to believe what she had just heard. "You're not wrong, Blossom."

Blossom looked like she was ready to explode, something which terrified Bubbles more, and when Blossom pushed Bunny away so hard that she ended up skidding along the ground and slamming into the wall, Bubbles jumped.

"Go away!" Blossom screamed. "You're terrible! Don't talk to me!"

The sudden shock of it had left Bunny crying on the ground.

"Blossom!" Bubbles shouted, still in shock and unable to believe what Blossom had done, and what Bunny had just said. Had she been killing people too? For a time, she was just frozen there, unsure of what to do - it felt as if everyone was guilty of something. Who should she help then?

In the end, she decided that none of them were beyond help. Blossom had taken the leap to forgive her for a crime that would have been unforgivable otherwise, and Bunny was far younger than they were. She remembered how ignorant and innocent she was back in the early, helmet-wearing days of their involvement in crime-fighting. She had let her sisters down and fled when she should have been helping to fend off the bad guys.

Walking over to Bunny, Bubbles took her by the hand, pulling at her to signal for her to move. Even while crying inconsolably, Bunny knew what to do. Together, they got out of the room. Without access to their own playing area, there was little they could do, but Bubbles had some ideas.

They went down to the lab together, past Mom, who was setting up some metal shutters at the windows of the living room. Bubbles got Dad, who was otherwise occupied with his computer, to come along as well.

"Dad, I need help with something," Bubbles had asked politely. "Please?"

"And what would that be, young lady?" the professor, despite working on something seemingly important, had entertained her candidly.

"I want to show Bunny the tunnel," Bubbles said. Professor Utonium looked at Bunny expectantly, with a smile on his face, but it quickly leveled out to match her still-present sadness. Bubbles saw that Dad had noticed, and quickly explained it away: "Blossom and Bunny were fighting, so I brought her down here instead."

Bubbles had considered finding a less implicating excuse but decided that any further lies on top of the ones Blossom had been feeding Dad about their activities outside would be intolerable.

"It wasn't that bad…" Bubbles said, thinking of her leader sister too, who she thought had been brave in the way she had been making all the decisions for them. "She was just really upset and so was Bunny…"

"You've always been sugary sweet, you know that, Bubbles?" the professor praised the kindest, gentlest of the quartet. After ruffling Bubbles' hair, he got up to accompany her to the 'tunnel'. "I'll have a little talk with Blossom later, but for now, let's go on our merry way to the tunnel."

The 'tunnel' had turned out to be the massive wind tunnel Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup would use to practice flying at home. The professor took his place at the control panel while Bubbles opened the reinforced glass door of the machine before entering the massive tube section. This time around, she had decided to forgo the use of her flight pack, seeing that the wind conditions in the tunnel would be predictable.

"Are you ready, Bubbles?" the professor asked over the mic on the control panel that would broadcast his voice into the tube section of the machine. Bubbles jumped and hovered in place before giving the professor the thumbs-up.

"Look at how I fly, Bunny!" Bubbles called out into the mic within the tube. Her voice was channeled out through a radio, electronically filtered. The professor would then activate the wind tunnel before turning up the speed to eleven - the machine wasn't designed for something as fast as the Girls. It was only through modifications made to the fan and circuitry that allowed the machine to match their current speed.

Bubbles would fly in a straight line at first, baby-blue X-haust particles leaving via her feet, forming a straight, fluorescent line. But then she would begin spinning, making a double-helix pattern with her baby-blue X-contrail.

It'd made Bunny forget her woes at the moment. She smiled and laughed as Bubbles maintained her aerial acrobatics. For the finale, Bubbles gave herself several micro-boosts, something The Three had been working on during the numerous times she had to fly to crime scenes, creating huge orbs in her X-contrail every time she boosted her speed.

But that wasn't all. After a short break, Bubbles would then carry Bunny on her back and fly again in gentler windows. The two Girls would giggle and laugh while they were at it, something which endeared the professor even more to them.

Blossom would visit belatedly, only to get an earful from the professor. It wasn't a pleasant experience - she was helpless in explaining herself as she couldn't mention Bunny's admission to killing for fear of revealing her own. She was forced to apologize to Bunny. She'd kept her resentment to herself in the meantime, though not well enough for it to be invisible to Bunny.

Before Mom took Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup out to meet Detective Mullens, Olivia and Stanley Talker at Sal's Milk Bar, Bubbles would tell Bunny a story at Dad's study. It was a story of their first attempt at fighting crime in the First Battle of Townsville Central Bank. Bubbles recounted how humiliating it was to be the first to go down, and after what would now be considered an inconsequential attack - a shotgun blast to the eye, although painful, wasn't enough to even scratch her. Bubbles would tell Bunny about Blossom and how her first thought was to rescue her despite Buttercup's protests and General Blackwater's disapproval...

**(To view the artwork embedded in this chapter, go to the same chapter in the Archive of Our Own version of this story)**

"Blossom isn't a bad sister," Bubbles concluded. "She loves us, and I guess she's just really sad…"

What had saddened her, though, was how Blossom seemed to have changed such that her memory of her was better than her current form…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Smith Cottages.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2214.**

Bunny opened her eyes. Yes, her sisters were good. Bubbles had been kind to her, and so was Dad. Come to think of it, Mom was sweet to her when she bade her farewell just before driving her elder sisters to Downtown for their milkshakes. If only she could join them!

Yes, her family had been good to her, and the time had come to protect them…


	94. Chapter 88: The Precinct

**Chapter 88: The Precinct**

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Smith Cottages.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2215.**

Bunny skulked her way to the back of the maintenance station's basement, searching for something. It didn't take long for her to find it. Rook had briefed her on what to look out for. There was supposed to be a purple flight suitcase left near the shelves, planted by an agent embedded in the sewage maintenance team. It contained what she needed for the mission. But it was dark, and so Bunny squinted hard - so hard that her eyes lit up like lamps! It'd surprised her that the basement had lit up wherever she was looking at, but then again, strange things had been happening to her lately. In her assassination mission this morning, she could have sworn she could see through walls.

The purple luggage stood out in her eye-light. As Bunny wondered what other powers she would discover next, she opened the luggage to find a fresh set of clothes, including socks and footwear. Sitting in the middle of it was a contact lens case, no doubt containing lenses to hide the purple glow of her eyes.

But the luggage was huge, and Bunny knew why. It was also meant to hold her gear while she was away. With nothing else left for her, she got started and picked up a pair of T-shirts and in the process, found a small mirror underneath it. She thought it was thoughtful of Rook to arrange for it. It'd help her with her lenses immensely.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Smith Cottages. TPD Precinct 109.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2226.**

Officer Marcus Campbell had been sitting on his ass for four hours and counting, and he was extremely bored. Life on the edge of Townsville wasn't as hardcore as it sounded - the heart of Townsville was where all the action was, and officers of the TPD on the outskirts had limited jurisdiction, with most of the crime tending to happen beyond the city limits, under the jurisdiction of the sheriffs of Pokey Oaks County.

But Townsville was the crime capital of the world, and even on the outskirts, crime was everyday business, so prevalent that it would soak everything in it, including the police department and its countless precincts and manpower that was meant to keep it under control.

Much of the work was fairly routine and dead boring though, and Officer Campbell had been bearing the brunt of the snooze-fest for the entire week as it was his turn on reception duty. It wasn't even time yet, but that moment was coming. Like all other police precincts in the city, crime had a presence in 109, though 109 was known by insiders as a corruption outpost, where the straight were the minority, ruled over by the bent.

"Next," the officer called out to the next person sitting down at the reception seats, his voice dry and cracked from lack of sleep and too many cigarettes. A man in a hoodie with the shakes came forward. There were a few other people in the room. The crowd was thinning out, and Officer Campbell found it favorable to him. The only reason why he'd kept the job was that he wouldn't be accepted in any other - the easy money he was earning on the side from the contacts he had accumulated over the years was a huge bonus.

That was when the double doors leading into the reception area opened, and in walked a girl of not even ten, much to the exasperation of the reception officer. There hadn't been another new 'customer' in the last half hour, and it could mean more would come, and it would be another hour and a half more before the punch clock.

The officer took a glance at her. The late winter meant that temperatures were on the rise, and she didn't have to wear earmuffs and a scarf, nothing to block the view. The young girl was decidedly plain, likely from the poor class, as most people in the Smith Cottages area were. She looked the part as she was alone, with her brown hair dangling loosely and flowing with the late winter wind. Her pink jacket had some patches on them, though her red lumberjack skirt and white pantyhose seemed pristine enough. Her winter boots looked worn. The officer could see her teeth as she'd come in weeping. They were disgustingly out of alignment, and likely beyond her family's fiscal ability to fix.

Instead of waiting like everybody else, the kid had decided to pad right up to the front desk, which Officer Campbell found annoying. He was never good with kids, and likely would never be.

"Mister policeman, p-please!" the young girl cried; she was rubbing her eyes with both her hands. Eyes were turned to her, with few of them being sympathetic. "My family's in trouble!"

"Is it an emergency?" Officer Campbell asked gruffly, a tone of annoyance rising in his voice. "Do you know what an emergency is, kid?"

The young girl nodded her head feverishly. The officer scowled at her.

"So is it an emergency or what?" the officer asked again.

"No…" she mewled.

"Then take a seat and wait for your turn! Isn't that what they taught you in school!?" Officer Campbell scolded her, pointing his ballpoint pen at an empty seat beside what appeared to be a hobo who'd been living it rough in dirty jackets and an even worse smell. The young girl cried and sniffled her way to her seat, but she'd found one a distance from the hobo, who didn't look offended at all.

Furrowing his eyebrows, the police officer went back to what he was doing, turning back to the man in a hoodie. "And how may I help you, mister?" he asked in an overly-polite manner.

"You're early. Do you have it?" he then asked the strange, jittery man in a low, whispering voice, in quick succession. The odd fellow reached into his jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. For some reason, Officer Campbell was wary of the young girl. She had stopped crying, sure, but he had a feeling, for some reason, that he was being watched and listened. Was it the way the young girl was glancing in his direction, no worse for wear from her tear-fest when, normally, it would be devastating for a young girl? In the end, he decided that he was just being overly-cautious. He hadn't been caught after all these years, so why would he be today?

"Here's the payment. Now give it to me," the strange man said, just as quietly. If anyone had overheard their conversation, they weren't showing it. While waiting for the officer's response, he wiped his face with his hand, sweeping away perspiration.

Officer Campbell took the wad of cash and counted it below the table. They came in hundred dollar bills, which made counting easy. The amount came up to a grand. Satisfied, he pulled a few little satchels from under the table and discreetly handed it to the man. The satchels and their contents were from the evidence room, and he thought it was a waste to just let them sit there. 'Waste not, want not.' That was what his mom taught him.

"Thank you for volunteering that information. Have a nice night, sir," the officer said to Hoodie Man as if announcing it for the world to hear. The pale, jittery man took the satchels and stuffed them in his jacket before getting up wordlessly to leave. "Next!"

An old lady of around sixty-plus years got up gingerly. She was presumably next, only for the young girl to dart forward, having resumed crying at some point.

"Please! My family's in big trouble!" the young girl cried again. At this point, Officer Campbell couldn't care less. He began scribbling some notes on a report as he waited for the old lady to inch her way forward.

It'd happened so fast that he didn't notice it until it was beyond too late. The girl had hopped onto his desk like some kid-sized rabbit, crouching there like an imp as she grabbed him by the collar, surprising him. Everyone else in the room were equally shocked to the point of freezing except for Hoodie Man, who was snorting something and taking his time walking towards the exit.

The young girl pressed her face close to Officer Campbell's face, innocent sadness turning into hateful fury. Tears were streaming down her cheeks all the same.

"My family's in big trouble because of people like you!" the young girl accused the officer before snatching his ballpoint fountain pen and plunging it into his eye. He screamed and squealed like a stuck pig as the young girl vaulted over his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his neck. His hands were going up to his punctured eye when the young girl wrestled him down, chair and man both, and snapped his neck. A cacophony of scream filled the reception room.

Stealing the officer's sidearm, the girl hopped on top of the reception desk again and began shooting, first putting a bullet through the skull of the old woman who was supposed to report a crime next, then the rest of the crime victims on the seats. Hoodie Man, still a little out of it as he swayed on his way out, was shot in the head last.

But the reception area wasn't completely devoid of life yet. In an adjoining room, she could hear radio chatter, and when she focused her enhanced hearing on it, she heard a chair moving, a gun being drawn and its slide pulled.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Smith Cottages. TPD Precinct 109.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2230.**

Bunny trained her stolen service pistol on the door leading into the radio room. She could see some kind of shadow behind it, as if she could see right through the door. She opened fire just as the shadow moved to open the door, putting several bullets right in the center of mass. She saw the shadow fall over, clutching the chair to remain upright.

Hopping down from the reception desk, Bunny rushed over to the door to open it and saw what the shadow was: a policewoman without her peak cap, clutching one of her many chest wounds as she fought for air. The least Bunny could do was end her misery, so she raised her pistol again and put a bullet between her eyes.

There were supposed to be at least eight more of them in the police precinct, and Bunny remembered the layout. The offices, break room and other facilities were in the middle. The locker room, armory and storage at the back, and the jail cells were in the basement. It was a small station, so there wasn't a second floor.

Noticing that the slide of her stolen service pistol was out, indicating that its ammunition was exhausted, Bunny threw it away and picked up the policewoman's. Pulling the magazine out, she counted thirteen bullets before slipping it back in. It was more than enough, especially with what she had in mind.

The stairs leading down to the basement was just behind the reception area. The architect of the station probably located it there for ease of access from the carpark outside. After closing and barring the doors leading into the reception area by bending a crowbar around the handles, Bunny descended down these steps. She'd seen the police officer attending to the jail cells even before she entered the basement area. Somehow, she could see through walls clearer than ever now. They weren't just shadows anymore.

At the foot of the stairs, Bunny tried the door. It was the kind that wasn't unlike that which could be found barring the way to a cell. It was chained shut, but she was able to snap the chain in two with her bare hands and slide open the basement door. The police officer there was hiding behind his desk with a shotgun. Bunny unloaded three shots into the desk, hoping to kill or incapacitate the cop before he could even pop out; the cop fidgeting meant that only a shot grazed him and another punctured his kidney. He popped out anyway, but Bunny was leagues ahead in speed and anticipation, putting a bullet in his dome before he could even aim his shotgun. The cop's shot went overhead harmlessly, not that it could even put a bruise on Bunny.

Bunny stared around the jail cells in wonderment. She could not believe that she could see through the walls so clearly; it was another super-sense to add to the list. But the prisoners in the jail cells were exactly what she needed. She searched the desk and found the switch that would release all the prisoners. It was a big, red button, as cliched as it sounded. Not so cliched was the fact that it was covered in a metal cage locked by a padlock, labeled 'Emergency'. Bunny pulled the metal cage off with ease, like tearing paper, before hitting the button and crawling under the desk.

Bewildered prisoners began streaming out, looking at each other, wondering what had delivered their godsent freedom. Bunny could see them through the desk, still captivated by her fully-realized x-ray sight. There were about six of them in all, and some began gunning for the stairs, while a couple of others greedily looted the downed officer's corpse. One of them took the shotgun while another his sidearm.

As soon as they were gone, Bunny crawled out of the desk and took her time to catch up with the escaping prisoners.

Gunshots rang out upstairs. Men and women were shouting, cursing, yelling and wishing each other dead. Bunny sneaked upstairs. She tried seeing through the walls again while she was still on the way up, but she couldn't see much. As it turned out, there was a limit to how much her x-ray vision could pierce through.

But her strategy was working as intended. She had released the prisoners to help throw the remaining police officers into disarray. With some luck, they might even help her kill one or two of them.

Dashing up the stairs and back into the corridor, she took a peek. There was a dead prisoner halfway down the corridor, one of those who salvaged a weapon from the dead cop. There were more gunshots. She turned up her x-ray vision once more and saw that the other five prisoners were holed up in the office, with one of them in his death throes. Bunny could see blood and wounds on his chest. The rest had overturned tables in the hopes of using them as cover and were trading shots with four police officers across the office, also hiding behind tables.

Another three police officers were guarding the back entrance of the precinct. All their guns were out, and one of them was half-kneeling in front of the other two. One of them had a shotgun, the others, their sidearms. It all seemed straightforward from here, easier than her hit on the warehouse district, and all Bunny wanted was to go home after doing her part in safeguarding her family.

Running out of cover, she began shooting at the officers guarding the back entrance. With the advantage of already knowing that they were there, she was able to take aim and gun them down quickly. Bullets whizzed past her, and a few struck her but did no damage; either sliding past her Chemical X2-enforced skin or slamming into her harmlessly. All three police officers were killed by gunshots to the head or heart.

She continued running towards the exit. Time was of the essence as it would only be moments before the survivors in the building realize what was going on. She stopped when she saw, using her x-ray vision (with increasing strain to her eyes), that she was close to the rest of the officers in the office, separated only by a concrete wall. Had she been allowed to break cover, she would have applied her super-strength to break through the wall, but she had to act (somewhat) normal, so she'd decided on another solution when she saw it close by.

There was a window between the corridor and the office. Dashing up to it, she hopped through it, placing herself behind the police officers' cover.

She didn't wait. The moment she was in, she opened fire. The only response came from one of the officers, who turned around to look at her, only to get a bullet to the brain. The rest of them fell in short order. The criminals on the other end stood up when they realized they were no longer being fired upon, which was quite fortunate for them since they had run out of ammunition. Bunny jumped on top of an office table, looking like some kind of savior.

"Who are you?" a woman who was one of the prisoners asked, looking both shocked and afraid at the same time, still unsure if Bunny had been the infiltrator who was behind the breakout; after all, how many kids could boast about overwhelming a police station?

Bunny did not reply. Instead, she raised her pistol and massacred the prisoners for their troubles with her remaining ammunition, which was quite unfortunate for them - and for the first time since this whole thing began, everything fell quiet. Leaving the office, she began doing a room-by-room search for any survivors unaccounted by intelligence. As far as she knew, she'd killed exactly the number of targets Rook had given her, and then some. The civilians in reception were collateral damage, considered enemies for witnessing her operation. It was something Bunny knew she would cry about later, but her duty was her duty, and her family and friends were the only things she cared about.

"This is Rook, come in," her USDO supervisor said on the radio, which Bunny had been hiding in her jacket. "What's the sitrep? Over."

Bunny pulled the radio of her jacket and pressed the call button. "Ten tangos down, all of them KIA. Ten charlies down, all KIA too. Did Bunny do good?" she asked, though her voice was cracking up; at that moment, she felt as if she had gone back in time a week, reduced to a helpless infant. The realization of what she had done had hit her the moment she talked about it, even if it was through thick military lingo.

"Bunny did great," Rook laughed on the other end of the radio. "Sweep for survivors or witnesses, extraction in five, not after - cops will be coming back soon as their radio operator is dead. Over and out."

Bunny strained her eyes once more for a quick scan of the area with her x-ray vision but stopped as soon as she'd gone through the rooms she had been through before. Not a living soul was alive after she had plowed through the area like a force of nature. But there was one room she hadn't checked, and it was near the corner of the station's back, nestled between the locker room and a combined closet and storage area, just out of reach of Bunny's x-ray vision the whole time.

Dashing there, remembering that time was always in short supply during a black operation, Bunny pressed her ear against the door; her eyes were hurting, but her ears weren't. Focusing on the space within, she could hear it clearly. Someone was whispering to himself almost maniacally.

"No… no… Yes… Do I… No… Shouldn't have taken it, man…" a man on the inside said to himself feverishly, before laughing bitterly, almost maniacally. Bunny thought that he was likely someone similar to the junkie she had shot right at the beginning of her rampage. Most importantly, he had likely heard everything that had transpired in the precinct, making him a witness, a liability. An enemy, a threat to her family. He would have to be killed.

Bunny opened the door, but carefully, slowly, gently, giving the knob a sluggish twist before inching it open just enough for her to squeeze through the crack. The lighting in there was dim; the light bulb above was old and dirty.

But the man in the room was no junkie, and the room Bunny was in wasn't any ordinary room. There was a counter up front, and behind that counter were racks upon racks of weapons. All kinds of shotguns, all kinds of rifles and submachineguns. Pistols. Ammo boxes containing thousands of rounds. All around her were body armor with 'TPD' printed on the back.

The man who was muttering to himself was in full SWAT gear. Sitting down on a bench, he rocked himself as he continued mumbling incoherently, something about 'shouldn't have taken it'. The way he was doing it disturbed Bunny somewhat. It had to end quickly. It had to end now. Raising her stolen pistol in panic, she pulled the trigger - only for nothing but an audible click to happen.

She'd tried to fire an empty weapon in her panic. The SWAT cop jumped to his feet and whirled around, revealing red, glowing eyes behind shaded ballistic goggles, catching Bunny off-guard as he fired his shotgun from the hip, knocking Bunny off her feet. But it wasn't the pain that was seared into her mind - it was those red eyes, and whatever twisted face of a man she could see underneath that helmet and goggles. Something was terribly wrong here.

Bunny got up as quickly as she could, but the drugged SWAT had already pumped his shotgun and fired another shell, stumbling Bunny back. The enhanced girl caught hold of the door behind her to prevent herself from falling, but the SWAT cop pumped his shotgun once more and fired a third shell, causing her to fall through the doorway.

"You're under arrest!" the SWAT cop warned Bunny in a distorted, growling demon voice. Something was very, very wrong with the man beside the fact that his eyes were glowing red. Getting up again, Bunny couldn't even get into a fighting stance when she felt a kick in the chest, which sent her flying into the wall, which she thought had cracked from the force. Somehow, the SWAT cop's kick felt stronger than his shotgun blast! 'How is it even possible!?' Bunny managed to think despite getting shot at.

"You have the right to remain silent!" the drugged SWAT taunted Bunny as he pointed his shotgun at a kneeling Bunny. Before he could fire a shell right in her face, Bunny pushed the barrel of the gun aside, causing the man to miss. She jumped to her feet and gave the SWAT an uppercut at the same time, pushing the odd cop back The SWAT gurgled and coughed as if he was about to throw his lungs up.

Bunny followed this up with a jump-kick, but the SWAT cop was exceedingly fast, knocking her kick out of the way. She'd nearly gone out of balance, but she landed just fine.

"Anything you say may be used against you!" he continued saying as if deliriously, voice still distorted and unnatural. He'd pointed his shotgun at her again, but she'd punched it aside, causing him to miss again. Taking advantage of her momentous, she tackled him next into the wall before launching herself into another flying kick, crushing his shotgun into him. She thought she could hear cracks when it happened.

For the moment, the SWAT cop seemed stunned. At the very least, he wasn't abusing the Miranda Warning. Grabbing his shotgun, Bunny wrested the gun away before breaking it in two. The SWAT cop, in the meantime, had recovered enough to pull his pistol out and aim it in good speed, only for Bunny to smack it away and plunge her fist into his stomach, putting it right through the actual organ.

The SWAT cop was coughing blood out immediately, which shot out like a projectile. Bunny had seen a glimpse of it. Somehow, his blood wasn't red. It was almost black in color.

"Y-you have the right… the right to remain silent…" the drugged SWAT croaked stubbornly. Bunny pulled her fist out of his stomach. Her arm was drenched up to the elbow in black blood, which she found so disgusting that she could retch from it. The SWAT cop fell to his knees, having been previously pinned to the wall by Bunny. "the right… remain… silent." He then collapsed; even with whatever he had been consuming that made him so strong, the wound he suffered was too severe for a normal human being.

"This is Rook. I heard shots going off, over," her USDO supervisor had called again on the radio. Bunny was wiping her hand on her skirt when it happened. She pulled her radio out again to reply.

"Bunny here. There was another tango - he was really… special..." Bunny said, but couldn't complete her description. With the unprecedented discovery and her limited vocabulary, it was too difficult for her to do so. In the end, she let go of the call button anyway.

"We'll talk about it at debriefing. I can hear sirens. Extricate yourself, over and out," Rook said.

Bunny, however, needed some time. The fight with the red-eyed SWAT cop was a little tougher than most, and she could still feel a dull pain in her chest. Pressing against it, she could feel a bruise forming. How was it possible? Normal people weren't supposed to be this strong!

Straightening herself up, she took a deep breath of the warm, conditioned air… Which was when she felt an itch in her nose. She twitched it and rubbed it to no avail. Instead, what came was a horrible sensation, which felt as if something was about to explode in her nose-

She sneezed. Her hand had gone up to her nose instinctively, covering her face when she did. Upon withdrawing her face, however, she was met with a ghastly sight. Her hand was spattered with blood. Something was snaking down her nostrils, so she wiped it away, only to see more blood on her hand. The itch did not go away immediately, but it eventually did, only to be replaced with a dull kind of pain that showed itself out the door, too, after it'd made its presence known.

Bunny was confused. The injury she had sustained from her fight with the SWAT cop could hardly even be called as such - how was she bleeding from her nose? She didn't even remember getting hit in the head either, not by hand or foot, not by a shotgun.

But the itch and blood had gone away quickly. Dismissing it as just 'coincidence', Bunny dashed away from the police station upon hearing the distant wails of a police siren…


	95. Chapter 89: Bad Neighbors (Part 1)

**Chapter 89: Bad Neighbors (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. 'Powerpuff' Lane. Smith Residence.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2303.**

Harold Smith had been spying on 'The House' through the Venetian blinds of his office for the past hour. As usual, the lights in that house were still on - those villainous neighborhood invaders had no sense of preserving Mother Earth! But that was the least of their crimes. The dad and husband of the Smith family seethed with pent-up rage and frustration. No. If only being wasteful was the 'Utonium's only sin. His life would have been so ideal as it had been had it been their only sin.

Just four months ago, life was perfect. He was married to the most stunning lady he had ever seen. His eldest kid, Bud Smith, though possessed by the usual angst and wild emotions that many teenagers had to deal with, was nonetheless talented in his own way, having formed a garage band and found mountain biking as a form of outlet for said wild emotions. While he wasn't the most academically accomplished of students in Townsville High, he was at least good in mathematics and the sciences, not to mention music and physical education.

Julie Smith, his daughter, had been the newest addition to the family, and although she had a rough sibling relationship with Bud, had nonetheless bonded with him over music. She had picked up several instruments including the flute and musical triangle which had seen her join the classical music club of her elementary school - her wish in music was to 'collect' even more instruments and learn how to use them all. Despite her pudgy physique, she had also found her place in ballet school, and despite being mocked by thinner students, was one of the top dancers there who had taken part in several performances. Although she had shown no other talents outside of music and dance, her parents believed that she would grow to gain more talents, and even if she hadn't, she would likely end up in a conservatory by the time she was a teenager.

For all his children's accomplishments, Harold wasn't sure where their talents had come from. He himself was a simple man who, ever since marrying his wife, cared only about being a breadwinner; he had no appreciation for the finer things in life, no hobbies unless caring for his family could be counted as such. Harold's wife, Marianne, had no sports or musical talents. She worked in a fashion shop before becoming a homemaker. He'd put it down to her parenting and gentle touch while she was holding down the fort whenever he had gone to work in the city.

It'd started even before his new 'neighbors' moved into the house next to his. The USDO, functioning then as a, frankly, scarier entity since it was unknown then, had moved everyone out of the neighborhood. From what he heard, they were offered compensation, though not enough to pay for the houses they lost.

Harold was one of those who didn't budge, though he wasn't sure if there were others. He'd even stood on his porch with his shotgun when the G-men came with some papers for him to sign that day. He was disarmed easily, of course, after security officers in unfamiliar grey uniform swarmed him and threatened him with physical and mental consequences. When he continued to refuse stubbornly, the G-men in suits threatened him with legal and financial consequences. The only silver lining was that his children weren't there to witness their father plead his case in tears, blubbering and bawling like a baby.

Unlike his neighbors, he didn't have the financial resilience to move. He had been poor before he moved to Townsville a year ago, deep in debt from a failed business venture. He'd caught a break when he accepted a managerial position in Morbucks Industries because of his flexible problem-solving abilities and engineering skills. The catch was that he had to move from California, risking even more debt if he couldn't keep the job.

And the USDO made damn sure he couldn't keep the job. While the USDO had relented and let him stay in his house, he was subjected to security checks every time he went in and out of the neighborhood. He was put on a strict curfew, making his working hours terribly inflexible, and when his employers finally caught wind of his situation, decided to let him go. His kids suffered similarly. Despite being a teenager and prepubescent respectively, Bud and Julie were put on curfew too and couldn't pursue their interests. Bud had to disband his garage band and discontinue his biking expeditions. Julie stopped going to ballet and music classes. Bud became more irritable and irritating than before, and they began seeing a side of Julie they had never seen before.

To make ends meet, Harold Smith had to take up a dreary job as a worker in a mustard jar factory. Compared to his managerial position, the pay was meager and just enough to pay for his mortgage and monthly debt repayment. Marianne had to go back to work running a shop, which meant less attention spent on the kids.

But that wasn't all. Within weeks of the Utoniums moving in, Harold Smith found his Golden Retriever dead in his own backyard, hidden away in the bushes. It had been dead for days by the time he found it. He had previously hoped that the dog had just wandered off and would return. The news devastated both Bud and Julie the most. The burial ceremony they held in their backyard didn't help matters. Harold knew who to blame right from the start. The evidence was there: tiny footprints of mary-janes, his dog had been stabbed in the eye with a tree branch, its neck snapped and there was a great force behind the injury.

Then there was the constant fear of just being dragged away by the USDO or their enemies. The USDO had conducted random security checks on their house once in a while, making sure that he couldn't make it work on several occasions. There were times when the enemies of the USDO do pay the Utoniums a visit, and they had to cower in their basement whenever it happened, for fear that they would become collateral damage.

Oh, he tried to turn things around even during these dark days. He'd tried damn hard to turn things around. Back in January, he invited them over for dinner. It was no easy feat, as he had to submit written requests to the USDO - in triplicates - and wait for a reply that came sluggishly, insultingly, and only after days. He'd tried ever since late December, only to be rejected several times before whoever it was in the USDO's admin allowed it. It was funny how it worked. He'd tried to approach the man of The House, Professor Utonium - he believed - but he was stopped by Captain Scott of the suburb's security detail before being turned around. Forcibly.

And when he had them over finally? Oh, it was all well and good at first. Harold had made gentle hints to the professor and his (apparent) wife, Selicia, about getting a job in the USDO itself, and the apparent father of the Powerpuff Girls - if such a thing was possible - seemed to be receptive. He'd worked his way through the subtle pleading during dinner, sure that things would finally work out. Then dessert came.

Marianne had spent hours upon hours on her (literally) award-winning coconut cream pies. Harold had no idea what had set the green one - Buttercup - off. Perhaps it was the color of the pies, resembling the kind clowns commonly used to attack one another. Perhaps it was in Buttercup's nature to incite pandemonium. But whatever the cause, it happened. Buttercup, for no reason whatsoever, threw her pie at the blue one - Bubbles - who, after screaming and crying shrilly, threw hers at Buttercup. The ever impressionable Julie mimicked them by stuffing her pie into Bud, who retaliated with equally creamy fury. Marianne had gotten so mad that she threw hers at Blossom, who thought it was fun, and threw hers at Marianne as if it was some snowball fight.

Needless to say, Harold's wife broke down inconsolably by the end of it. It wasn't cheap nor easy, making those pies. Harold, on the other hand, hated seeing his wife that way. It'd set him off with no way to defuse the nuclear explosion. He'd yelled for the Utoniums to "GET the FUCK out of my HOUSE!" That wasn't all, of course, as he'd proceeded to call the Girls and their supposed parents all sorts of names while they were on their way out. Predictably, all his attempts at getting a job in the USDO, which was basically a huge blow to his pride in the first place as it was tantamount to sleeping with the enemy, had all gone down the drain with his wife's coconut cream pies.

Oh, and the PTF visited the next day, headed by some guy called Lieutenant Blake, who proceeded to bust down his door and wreck some furniture in his house for a 'random security check'. After enough damage was done, he warned him to be nicer to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, and to never call Blossom a 'clueless idiot', Bubbles a 'born slut' (which was followed by 'fucking whore') and Buttercup a 'raging psychopath' ever again or he would 'make damn sure' he would never see his own children again, since…

'You, Mister Harold Smith, must be the worst parent in the world to ever say such things to three of the world's most beautiful and gifted children,' Lieutenant Blake had said back then before leaving. Although Harold thought he'd gotten off light considering that he had called Selicia a 'God damn prostitute' and Professor Utonium a 'retarded geek', slurs which Captain Blake had overlooked, the PTF officer's words had stung him to the core, partly because he had little left, and being a good father was part of his ever-diminishing dignity… But also partly because there was a distinct possibility that Lieutenant Blake was right. He did drag his children into this, and before that, through the mud of his failures - things a good son and daughter shouldn't be made to go through.

Needless to say, he'd been avoiding the Powerpuff Girls and their handlers ever since that incident, but to do that, he had to leave for work earlier than before, and he couldn't venture beyond his home much. Whenever he saw any member of the Utoniums, he would run back into his house, afraid that he might somehow be struck down by lightning or some other instance of bad luck.

But recently, he'd been receiving messages, messages that would hint at a chance to end all this. Back in the middle of February, a colleague at the mustard factory whom he did not really know had passed him a piece of paper rolled up into something resembling a cigar, with a few hundred dollar bills at its core. Someone who went by the abbreviated name of 'J. J.' had empathized with him, and offered him a way out by following his simple instructions.

In following the first instruction, he took his family out the next weekend on an exceedingly rare shopping trip using the money this 'J. J.' fellow had supplied him with. They bought mainly clothes, and Harold had bought himself and his wife black clothes and sneakers.

The second instruction led him to the bushes in his backyard, where someone had planted a lockpicking kit and manual. He would learn the craft from then on, using the doors in his own house. Whoever this 'J. J.' was, he had proven his power by implying that he had a spy within the USDO.

The third instruction told him where to hide everything that was given to him, which also told him where to find a couple of pistols. As it just so happened, they were in his backyard, coincidentally just after the USDO had conducted another random search of his house.

The fourth roll of paper gave him a detailed schedule of the guard rotation and patrol routes of the USDO security detail protecting the Utonium family.

And most recently, a fifth paper told him what his objective was: to steal a sample of the Anti-X, as well as data about it. He had been provided with detailed steps on how to do it, to be followed to the letter. There was a really tiny map on the paper, which he read with a magnifying glass.

And this brought him all the way to the present…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. 'Powerpuff' Lane. Smith Residence.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2305.**

It was time. Turning to his wife, Marianne, he watched her going over the things they needed for the suburban heist. She removed a magazine from one of the pistols they were provided, checked the ammo count, slipped it back in before pulling the slide and putting the pistol on safety. She did the same with him, before checking his lockpick set.

She had always been supportive of him that he could break down in joy right now but now was not the time. Walking over to her, he gave her a peck on the forehead before helping out with the rest of the equipment. The flashlights worked fine. Their clothes and bags had no tears and holes. They were good to go, but there was just one more thing.

After putting on their robbery kits, Harold and Marianne went up to Julie's room. The husband half of the duo sat on the kid's bed silently, before running his hand in her hair. Even in her sleep, Julie was frowning, and it wasn't just anger at the things she had lost, the friends she could no longer see.

"I'm going to make it all better," Harold whispered to his daughter, before giving her a kiss in the cheek. "I promise." With that, he pulled his daughter's blanket up to her shoulders and tucked her in.

He was going to do the same thing with Bud when he heard rock music from his room, likely blasting from the radio he'd given him for his birthday last year when times were more optimistic. Harold knew what it meant. Bud was staying up late - without his permission again - and playing some computer game off of the desktop he'd bought for the teen for Christmas two years ago. Simcity or Minesweeper or something like that, he couldn't remember. It was all he could do now… now that his real passions were stolen from him.

Harold felt for his boy. Putting a hand on Bud's door, he whispered the same promise he made to Julie before heading off. He'd stay longer if he could, but the guard rotation was coming up. It was the only time he could be sure that they wouldn't sneak up on his house or on him and his wife while they were busy raiding the Utoniums' house.

The first they did was to switch off all the lights around his house, leaving only the living room lights on, to give the impression that he was still there. They then went to their backyard and into the bushes around the fence separating his house and the Utonium residence. There was a specific area where J. J.'s insider man had made an entrance by loosening the boards, and he had to navigate with faint light from the streetlamps - which was no easy feat, considering that he had no training beyond brief self-taught lessons encouraged by a man - or woman - he had never met.

It took them a minute too long, but Harold was able to find it eventually, though he had to navigate more by touch than sight. Squeezing through with difficulty, Harold and Marianne soon found themselves in enemy territory; The House, where The Powerpuff Girls had been flying out of ever since Christmas.

They were in the backyard, and so they crossed it to a back door leading into the house. Harold began picking the lock. There was light underneath the door, which meant that the living room of The House was lit. Someone could be there, so Harold tried to pick it as silently as he could. But what he'd made easy in practice was much harder in execution. He had been picking the same locks in his house over the past couple of weeks, and this one was different. He was nervous, and that had made his fingers twitchy in ways that were counterproductive.

"Come on, Harold, please hurry!" Marianne rushed him. She had been supporting before, but now that she was out here in the dark with soldiers all around them, she was a whole different story altogether.

"I'm trying," Harold grunted and whispered back. He'd failed the first couple of times he tried to beat the lock, but he had a good feeling on the third try, having already defeated half the pins in the door by the time Marianne had grown afraid.

They could hear some kind of engine starting up, and it was coming from somewhere near the front of The House. "They're coming, Harold!" Marianne was almost screaming at him, but she still had some wits left to keep it down.

Then Harold turned his tension wrench. The satisfying sound of mechanical parts turning was music to his ears. He turned the doorknob and the door allowed him entry. He could hardly believe it! It felt like an achievement even greater than landing his Morbucks managerial job! But there was no time for celebration, and the thieving couple began piling through the door just as a convoy of military humvees and an APC roared by.

Together, the Smiths sneaked towards the living room, ears peeled for any sound, but they could hear nothing: not the TV, not the flipping of books, no children playing. Harold had seen a map of The House in his last letter. Unfortunately for him, the entrance to the lab was in the living room. Should the professor be there, it might necessitate the use of his gun, which came with silencers and subsonic rounds, but if the professor happened to be facing away from them, choking him to death from the back would be preferable. Oh, how Harold relished the idea of killing Professor Utonium as he who was one of those who oppressed him and his family.

But it was not to be. When Harold peeked out of a corner, he saw no one in the living room; not the professor, not the bitch known as Selicia. Were they really even married? Harold had no clue. Sensing a chance, Harold and Marianne began sneaking towards the lab.

"How many times did I tell you!? No picking at your stitches, Buttercup!" a voice suddenly exploded after a door slammed open. The noise was coming from the second floor. It'd made Harold and Marianne jump. It was a female voice. Selicia. It'd made them hurry, padding briskly towards the lab entrance. But there was some hope to this. If the Utonium bitch was upstairs, did that mean that Professor Utonium was upstairs too?

"But Mom! It itches! It really itches really badly!" one of the blasted three freaky girls complained, her voice fading as if going further away.

"Just stop touching your cheek or you'll break the stitches! I'll get the cream from the bathroom!" Selicia voice was fading too, before disappearing completely with the slam of another door.

In the meantime, Harold had been hard at work trying to open the airlock leading into the laboratory as quietly as he could. The airlock wasn't the most subtle entrance there was. It was heavy and loud, and it came with two sets of doors. It was like trying to build an aircraft engine quietly: something darn near impossible.

Another burst of sound caught him off-guard just when he was able to open the first set of airlock doors. The sound of children, girls, giggling down the corridor above. It was probably the two other members of the 'Powerpuff Girls'. Afraid that he would be discovered, Harold closed the doors behind him after ushering his wife in.

He was less cautious when it came to the second set of doors. He'd opened them loudly and quickly before descending down the stairs and into the labs. When he was there, he couldn't help but to pause and stare in wonder at the huge underground facility; he couldn't believe that these strange activities of the USDO were being conducted right under his very nose, not that he was that important a person. It was like being in a science fiction movie. His wife had to snap him out of it, and together, they made for what they believed to be the main computer of the labs.

That was when the professor himself jumped out at them, at least, that was Harold's impression. The professor had just been carrying some documents out from storage for analysis when he ran into Harold and Marianne. The Smith duo pulled their pistols on him, and the professor was too shocked to react; he just stood rooted to the ground, files in his arms.

"Harold? Is that you?" the professor muttered the man's name. Apparently, the clothes Harold had put on had done nothing to hide his identity. His bald head, crowned by hair greying from stress, had stuck out above his black hoodie, whose hood had fallen off, and his mask. Harold, though, couldn't believe that the professor could even remember his name, but then again, he thought he must have made an impression after his explosive release of pent-up rage that saw Professor Utonium's entire family getting bombarded with vulgarities a hardcore Hell's Angels biker wouldn't use. "What are you doing here?"

"I could've asked you the same question!" Harold yelled at the professor as he jabbed his pistol at him. He was shaking with fury; apparently, the last time he'd released his rage hadn't been enough. "You and your federal friends have ruined my life! And I'm putting an end to you and your freaky little family!"

"Your bug-eyed mutant daughters are a menace!" Marianne added. The professor recognized her too. Her dark skin tone and light blonde hair had given her away.

"I- I don't know what to say…" Professor Utonium replied. He remembered what had happened with the Smiths back in January because of how messed up - literally - it was. He would have lectured his daughters in front of the Smiths, apologized and made up for the ruined desserts somehow had he been given time.

"Then don't say anything!" Harold yelled at the professor, before gesturing for Marianne to get a move on. "Honey, why don't you search for the Anti-X and data while I hold our dear neighbor here for a chat?"

"You're looking for the Anti-X?" the professor said in disbelief. How did they know about that? Furthermore, how did they even knew to come down to the lab or even come anywhere close to The House without security detaining them? "Why?"

Harold realized his mistake of revealing his intentions when the professor questioned him, but what was done was done. It didn't matter anyway. What could one retarded geek do to him anyway? Now that he had him at gunpoint with none of his Chemical X-enhanced daughters anywhere near him?

"Well, I can imagine that someone's looking to destroy your daughters and rule the world," Harold said in an almost comical way, mostly just to tick the professor off. The professor had served as a constant reminder of how shitty his life had become because of the USDO, and he would suffer for it. "Yeah, I would imagine that the Anti-X will kill your daughters - are they really even your daughters? Or are they adopted? It begs the question, really - where did you even get them from? And how unethical is the USDO to allow human experimentation on little kids?"

"Harold, please," the professor pleaded with the man, clearly disturbed by the implications of his neighbor's words. Harold, indeed, did look pleased with himself. "We can talk about this! Just- just stop. Please don't hurt my precious little babies!"

"Your precious little babies? If that's how you feel about kids, why did you hurt mine?" Harold hissed, his voice narrowing into a dangerous whisper. "Do you know how they used to be like? How much of themselves they've lost? No, I bet you don't. I'm not going to stop. I won't stop until the USDO is gone, and your monster daughters are dead and burnt to ash, and I'm going to burn the ash too-"

The professor tried to rush Harold when reasoning with him seemed futile, but Harold was too fast. BANG! He'd fired his pistol before the professor could even touch him…


	96. Chapter 90: Bad Neighbors (Part 2)

**Chapter 90: Bad Neighbors (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2316.**

Thinking back to her operation in Precinct 109, Bunny couldn't believe what she had just done. She'd shot those people in the reception area. Most of those civilians were likely innocent, especially that sweet old lady. Were all of those cops she killed guilty of corruption and crime? The uncertainty of it was so painful to her, it was physical.

Then there was that SWAT officer and his red eyes and prodigious strength. His identity was still a mystery, but Chief of Intelligence Rook had filled her in. Where previously, the drug known as His Secret and His Secret 2.0 were found only on the streets and in the hands of criminals and drug abusers with the occasional merchandise ending up in the hands of everyday citizens, it was beginning to penetrate every facet of society, including the Townsville Police Department. The SWAT cop was probably one of its consumers, and it gave him the strength to fight her. Though still weak alone, Rook warned Bunny that a group of them might actually be a match for her.

Rook had even told Bunny about how her sisters, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, dealt with the users of His Secret 2.0 - those affiliated with the cult. He'd made sure to emphasize the part where they were usually injured whenever they came up against those red-eyes. It was all she needed to hear to stay motivated to fight crime in their stead.

Bunny drove to The House as quickly as she could. Her motorbike wasn't as loud as the civilian models, partly because its engine didn't have to work so hard with her providing some of the thrust. As usual, when Bunny reached home, she wheeled her bike into the garage. She couldn't wait to fly into the waiting arms of her Dad, so she ran into the living room through the garage door, her arms about to open up for an embrace when she saw that there was no one there to greet her. Despite being fully lit, the living room was completely empty.

"Dad? Where are you?" Bunny called out to her father, but she wasn't sure if she'd reached him. When there was no reply from her Dad, she could feel the panic rising up in her. A horde of gangsters was no problem, but for her Dad to disappear like this unnerved her. "Dad!?" She ran to the middle of the room.

Bang! She heard the shot going off, muted but still audible. She had been keeping her ears peeled, focusing it to receive the voice of her Daddy, so she was able to hear even a pin drop from afar; a gunshot would be deafening, and it came from downstairs, the lab.

Bunny drew her MP5 immediately, shouldering it. Her eyes stung, but she began scanning her surroundings with her newly-discovered x-ray vision immediately. Nothing. There was no ambush waiting for her. With her gun forward, she made her way towards the airlock, then down the stairs leading to the labs.

A ghastly, unthinkable sight greeted her when she had reached the underground lab. Two invaders were there. One of them was at the computer, pulling a floppy disk out of the computer in alarm, while the other…

The other person in black was pointing a pistol at her Dad, who was clutching his shoulder while lying on the floor, his ordinarily white lab coat stained with blood.

"DAD!" Bunny screamed as she sprinted towards the stranger. The man in black hoodie turned his weapon on her and fired instinctively, but was only able to fire another shot before his gun stopped responding. The stranger's shot missed. Bunny fired her MP5 on full auto, aiming at the legs of the man, causing him to fall to his knees. But he was still trying to work his pistol. Pulling back the slide, he cleared the jam caused by his subsonic round, but before he could fire another shot, Bunny slammed the butt of her MP5 into her face.

"Harold!" the other stranger screamed, still frozen at the computer.

"Run! Go! Get it out of here!" the man of the robber duo shouted, and the other robber did as he asked and tried to run past Bunny. Just as Bunny grabbed the male stranger by the collar, pulling him up, the male stranger pressed the muzzle of his pistol to her chin and fired a shot right up her jaw. It did little except incense Bunny further. Slamming the stranger to the ground hard, Bunny made a grab for the pistol and pulled it away from him with ease before throwing it across the lab and into some dark corner.

The female stranger had made it past her and would have reached the stairs had it not been for Bunny, who fired a few rounds at her one-handed, driving bullets into her legs as well. The only reason Bunny didn't kill them was that she wanted to hurt them, even 'interrogate' them for information as to how they managed to threaten her Dad's life.

With the robbers neutralized as threats, Bunny ran up to Dad to check on his wounds. The blood wasn't too much, though it was hard to tell how bad his wound was. Removing his lab coat, she could see a hole where his collarbone was, and something gleaming there. He was alive but unresponsive. The sight of her Dad wounded and unconscious, however, made her mad, really mad. Mad to the point of forgetting almost everything save for the fact that Daddy's hurt bad, and there was hell to pay for it.

Lowering Dad down, Bunny returned to Harold Smith, who was still trying to crawl away. He didn't make it very far. She gave him a kick in the ribs, rolled him over and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up easily. She jammed the muzzle of modded MP5 into his mouth as she screamed madly, and Harold was screaming too, except he couldn't do too much of that with a gun in his mouth.

"You hurt my Daddy!" Bunny screamed, and at this point, Harold was crying and if he was talking, Bunny couldn't make out what he was saying since he had the barrel of a gun in his mouth, but she didn't care. Shaking with fury, tears gleaming on her cheek, Bunny depressed the trigger of her gun.

"Stop!" Dad yelled from where he sat. "Don't kill him! He- he's not-" The professor couldn't even finish his sentence before collapsing back to the floor. Getting shot in the collarbone wasn't exactly a pleasant experience.

Bunny let go of Harold the moment she heard her Dad talking, warning her against homicide. After giving him a kick in the face, she ran back to Dad, holding him up. Tears were pouring from her eyes like never before. Her lips trembled such that she couldn't even speak.

Footsteps thumped down the stairs. Selicia was running down to the lab upon hearing the rapid-fire gunshots. She was wielding an XM4 Carbine, likely taken from under her bed, and the first thing she saw was Marianne, who managed to crawl all the way to the foot of the stairs.

When Marianne saw that she had been spotted again, she attempted to pull her pistol out, only for Selicia to kick it away. The pistol clattered against the wall as Selicia pointed her own firearm at her. Realizing that she had been defeated, Marianne slumped against the first step of the stairs, appearing to have lost all hope.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were filing down the stairs only when it was safe. They were in their dresses, too injured with all their stitches (Buttercup especially) to fight, not that they needed to.

"Dad? Daddy?" Bunny was shaking the professor when he was slipping back into unconsciousness, still in tears over his injury and plight. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you! Bunny bad!"

The professor forced himself to open his eyes when he heard how torn up his youngest adopted daughter was. His arms were heavy as steel, but he clutched Bunny by the arm as hard as he could. "Bunny- It's not your fault, so don't ever say that again-" he struggled to say. His shoulder was hurting really badly, so much so that it was almost paralyzing, and his mind was a near-total blank. "You did well. You helped me…"

In the meantime, Selicia had moved on to Harold, handcuffing him, leaving Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup to restrain Marianne, which they did so with extreme prejudice. More boot-stomping could be heard coming from the stairs. Reinforcement was coming from the guards stationed on the surface.

"Daddy's hurt bad…" Bunny cried, still regressed.

"I'm fine..." the professor struggled to stay aware - he had to for his daughter. He winced when he shifted himself, tried to sit up but couldn't. It felt as if his entire skeleton was on fire. "It's just a flesh wound-"

After Buttercup had knocked out Marianne, the original three of the quartet came up beside the professor along with Selicia, who was done with Harold.

"Let go of him," Selicia said to Bunny as she tried to make some space for the professor, but Bunny wouldn't budge. When the purple one looked up at Selicia, she understood instantly why; her eyes were drowning in tears, she was a picture of devastation. "Bunny, let go of Daddy, I have to check him." Selicia herself was gravely concerned; her other half was wounded right under her nose! Had it not been for her Thomas' injuries, she would have settled it with the Smiths right there and then, but her lover came first, especially when their wedding day was drawing close.

"Come on, Bunny… Let Mommy take care of Dad…" Bubbles said to her while she helped Selicia by pulling Bunny away, but the moment the youngest of the quartet turned around from the professor, she started hyperventilating, panicking as she stared into the distance, forgetting that Bubbles was holding her hand and that she wasn't alone. Bubbles hugged her immediately. She didn't know what else to do. Bunny was shaking so much, still crying, but the hug helped a little and Bubbles was glad.

Selicia was able to check the professor's wound where Bunny had faltered from emotional shock. He had been shot in the collarbone, but strangely, the bullet hadn't gone beyond skin-deep. His collarbone had stopped the bullet, and Selicia was able to pull it out even without an instrument. Off the top of her head, the only reason she could think of was that the professor was incredibly lucky to have been shot with a defective bullet.

"Blossom, get me that medkit!" Selicia ordered the leader of the three without looking at any of the Powerpuff Girls. Blossom, however, was glaring at Bunny and had missed the instruction. "Now, Blossom!"

Blossom responded only after Selicia had screamed at her. Her mind had been elsewhere. It seemed suspicious to her that her Dad was wounded even while Bunny was around. She knew her own secret: that she had been working with the Amoeba Boys. What if Bunny was working for someone else? Someone who wanted Daddy hurt? But that could wait. Flying to a medical kit mounted on the wall, Blossom took it off the shelf and handed it over to Mom, who snatched it away without a word of thanks and began taking things out of it: antiseptics, gauze, bandages and a triangular sling.

Buttercup, in the meantime, was passive, as usual. She had been sitting on a swivel chair nearby and would have stayed there had she not been called by Mom to assist. After scratching the corners of her stitches, she obliged - though in her mind, she was only doing it because she still saw something in her Mother.

Blossom had gone back to glaring at Bunny, but she couldn't stay quiet any longer. Marching up to Bunny, who was still crying on Bubbles' shoulder, she started screeching accusations at her: "What were you doing, Bunny!? Weren't you supposed to protect Dad whenever you're back at home!?"

"Bunny's better than the rest of you!" Blossom imitated General Blackwater's deep voice, still incredulous that the general would say such a thing.

"How are you even better than us!?" Blossom continued berating Bunny, who jumped at every emphasized word.

After letting go of Bubbles, Bunny stood before Blossom with her head bowed in shame and submission. Unsure of what to do with herself, she clutched her hands tightly. "I…" she couldn't even begin to say anything, already guilt-ridden as she was.

"Leave her alone, Blossom!" Bubbles stood in front of Bunny as if shielding her from a monster, or someone like Naga or Mojo Jojo. "It's not her fault Daddy's hurt! She saved Dad too!"

"Like how you nearly killed him?" Blossom had run her mouth before she realized it, and the moment she understood what she'd just said, regretted it immediately. The shocked look on Bubbles was quickly replaced by something far worse, as her face scrunched up in misery, on the verge of tears, while she was forcibly reminded of her past trauma.

"Bubbles, I… Didn't mean to say that…" Blossom tried to apologize, but it was too late. Bubbles had already retreated inwards, and the physical world had become a blur while she was back on that fateful day, when she had hurt her entire family and almost killed her Dad just for another hit of His Secret 2.0.

Bubbles' hands went up to her mouth as she tried her best to control her sobbing, and failed. Bunny tried to pull her into a hug to repay the favor, but Bubbles shrugged it off and began walking, just walking away without a word towards the stairs.

"Bubbles! Don't go- Bubbles! I didn't mean it! I was just…" Blossom half-apologized fruitlessly as she watched her sweetest sister leaving them. She turned back to Bunny, who didn't look much better herself. "Upset…"

Blossom felt as if the world was crashing down on her ever since she began helping the Amoeba Boys. She had been questioning herself at every turn. The most recent deaths under her watch had made it worse, made her feel guilty no matter how many times she told herself she shouldn't be, that the people who were getting hurt and killed were heartless criminals. And now, the more upset she got, the more she found herself lashing at her family, which would make her even more upset.

It was a never-ending cycle that felt impossible to escape from…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2329.**

The professor had been going through his computer despite his injury, doing scans, going through activity logs. While he was being held at gunpoint by Harold Smith, he saw Marianne Smith switching it on and sticking a floppy disk into the drive while the computer had booted up the account login screen. She'd made no attempt to hack his account, not that she would have made it far as three strikes on the password would have locked the whole thing up.

"What were they trying to steal?" Selicia hovered (not literally) over the professor as he was opening and closing windows over the course of his investigation. "What could be worth so much to them?"

"I need answers, professor. General Blackwater's breathing down my neck," Captain Scott of the PTF guards stood on the opposite side of Selicia. He had reported the incident to the general only moments prior. Predictably, the general didn't like it. "What's the damage? What's been compromised?"

"Harold mentioned the Anti-X and data concerning the chemical," the professor finally revealed just as he was running through the myriad security software installed all over his computer. "He was trying to steal it."

"He didn't make it very far now, did he?" Captain Scott said with a smirk on his face. The Smiths were taken to the USDO HQ immediately to be treated in the medical wing. As soon as they were ready, which would be mere days after their surgeries, they would be interrogated, and as soon as they were healthy, they would be jailed, and then their lives would be a living hell. "Lieutenant Blake shouldn't have let them stay in this neighborhood. So much for kindness! I would have kicked them outright from the start!"

"One of them did insert a floppy disk," the professor muttered as he continued to diagnose his computer. He was no expert, but he had been tinkering and playing around with computers ever since he was in university, and he knew a thing or two about them.

"But it's just a floppy right?" Selicia said, confused as to the significance of the storage device.

"Yeah, so what?" Captain Scott echoed Selicia's sentiment. "What can a slice of electronic cheese do to your computer?"

"I think Mary stuck it in just so she could copy your files into it the moment she got through the computer's security," Selicia took a wild guess.

"They don't strike me as that sort of people," Captain Scott said. "Takes some serious brains to figure out this… electronic wizardry."

"You might be right," the professor replied. He'd finally stopped searching for clues as to what Marianne might have done to the computer. "Nothing's showing up on the security software. I'm no expert, but I don't see any sign of any viruses either."

"Viruses? Great," Selicia said, confused, before remembering her past briefings. Apparently, computers could get sick like people nowadays. Hackers under the employ of the Foundation and third parties had developed programs that replicate themselves and perform specific functions, such as disabling computer systems or stealing data through a dial-up connection. "What a strange world we're living in…"

"So do I get to report that security wasn't compromised then?" Captain Scott asked firmly.

"For now, I guess," the professor said. "I'm going to put in a request for a computer technician to take a look at my silicon-based friend here…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Location Unknown.**

**03 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2330.**

"Muahhahaha! Yes! Yes!" an inhuman voice cackled, echoing as it was deep in the chambers of an undiscovered lair of one… Mojo Jojo. The Chimpanzee was seated on his own swivel chair, like his creator would, typing excitedly on a computer which was far larger than his creator's, one of those things he was proud of - it took him weeks to get the parts and months to acquire the necessary knowledge and skills to build his supercomputer. Where his father's own had several rows of database and logic circuits, he had at least a dozen, built all the way to the ceiling to save space. "This is perfect! Flawless! Ideal! But what else could it be, for it is planned by none other than Mojo Jojo!?"

With the help of the Confederate Foundation of America, Mojo Jojo was able to mobilize spies within the USDO just for this. He'd found the downtrodden Smith family as the key to this, though not in the way most people would consider. He knew they would fail miserably as most humans would. He knew their severe limitations as unremarkable humans. He knew that they were disposable as limited human beings, and so he had planned his remote operation around it.

With only little over two weeks to prepare for it, Mojo Jojo gave them just enough resources to break into The House and try to steal the Anti-X and insert the floppy disk for the research data.

They would fail, but their success wasn't a part of the plan. The success of the operation had hinged more on the floppy disk than the Smiths.

The Smiths had thought that the floppy disk was meant for storing the research data to be stolen. It couldn't be further from the truth. That the Smiths had fallen for this little instance of deception had proven the enhanced Chimpanzee's point. They weren't cut out for anything but being a method of conveyance and cannon fodder. It would have been impossible for a floppy disk to contain every bit of the research data. Even the USDO's cutting edge 2.88mb floppy disks weren't enough. Lacking the shadowy federal organization's access to the more enigmatic solid-state drive which had more than ten times the storage space, Mojo Jojo was only able to procure a commercial variant of the 1.44mb floppy disk.

The human-made floppy disk would have been useless… had he not put a homemade virus in it. The virus was designed to autonomously perform functions in a computer: searching for files containing a few dozen keywords and phrases, including 'Anti-X', 'Powerpuff' and 'elimination of enhancements'. The virus would then send the files and itself through the internet and a chain of random email accounts right into the monkey's secret inbox, deleting any trace of its activities in the process, at every step. As if that wasn't enough, the servers hosting those random email accounts would then be programmed by the virus to reformat themselves, ensuring that even the most adept computer experts couldn't trace the hack-job back to him.

And here it sat, right before him and on the computer screen: the fruits of his father's labor. Little did Father knew that it would be the very tool that would end the usurpers once and for all!

"Muahhahaha!" Mojo Jojo cackled once more. "Soon, Father shall see the error of his ways!" But the thought of Professor Utonium mellowed him out quickly. He picked up a photo of the professor he had managed to have an agent secretly take. "And perhaps… just perhaps… He might accept me again…"

His thoughts returned to Professor Utonium. He had taken a big risk, giving the Smiths guns, but he had made absolutely sure to give his Father a fighting chance by giving them subsonic ammunition that were barely functional. He'd thought it through entirely. Being gun users with barely any experience and time on the range, the Smiths would have handled their pistols the way amateurs would have - by aiming at the center of mass, and 'aiming' would be a bit of a stretch. The ammunition he gave them wouldn't be strong enough to cycle their weapons. In fact, they would likely jam their pistols after every shot. The bullets wouldn't be able to penetrate very deeply into the flesh, and couldn't even fracture bone at all.

Still, it was a risk. A risk he had to take. By his highly-accurate estimates, the Smiths wouldn't have made it to the professor's computer without guns. Still, his decision to jeopardize his Father would haunt him for a while.

"I'm sorry… Father." Mojo Jojo slumped on his chair. He would need some time before he could bring himself to look at the professor's work.


	97. Chapter 91: No Bang for Morbucks Part 1

**Chapter 91: No Bang for Morbucks (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 0000.**

"Buttercup… Oh, Buttercup…" a sing-song voice whispered to the toughest of the three while she was still in bed. Turning in her place because of the voice, she covered her ears with the pillow, at first annoyed by the disturbance. The realization that she and her sisters weren't alone in their room came slow, sluggish because of the haze of sleep, but when it finally came, Buttercup bolted up and started frantically scanning her room. She'd even brought up her eye-lights to shine around the room in order to investigate who could be calling out to her in the middle of the night.

But all she saw were the usual, ordinary things that one would find in a girl's room. A pile of soft toys, pink kiddie tables with chairs. A white-pink wardrobe. Vanity. There were dolls that almost looked like they were standing up, but were actually propped up by chairs. One of them was so tall that she couldn't even see the abdomens of it. Then there was the-

Wait.

Wait a second.

Buttercup turned back to the tall doll legs.

She didn't remember Dad ever buying a doll like that. None of the dolls were adult-sized, and they never came with a strange pair of leather boots that went all the way up to the thighs. Were those even leather boots? She couldn't tell.

Buttercup would have looked up had it not been for a pair of shining red eyes glaring out of the darkness. Upon seeing it out of the corner of her eyes, she dimmed out her eye-lights. For the first time since... ever, she shook with fear. Lying back down, she pulled her blanket up to cover herself completely, hoping that, perhaps, whatever it was that was standing in her room would forget about her and go away.

While she hid, she thought she could hear deceptively soft footfalls, and it was coming closer. She nudged her closest sister.

"Bunny!" she whispered to her youngest sister. "Bunny, wake up!"

She would give her a pinch next, then a punch, but nothing woke Bunny up. "Bunny, please!"

The next thing Buttercup felt was something pinching the blanket and before she knew it, it had been pulled away. A figure loomed above her. Red eyes, like a pair of dark stars or doom planets, glared down at her.

"If it isn't the lovely 'Buttercup'," the enormous being said in its sing-song voice. Buttercup couldn't even tell if it was male or female.

"Blossom! Bubbles!" Buttercup murmured in fear. She reached out for them, only to feel what felt like clothes or rubber in her hands. She turned to look at her sisters, finding it odd that they didn't feel the blanket fall away, only to find what looked like rubber skin and clothes resembling her sisters. She screamed from the sight of it as the gigantic thing above her seized her by her arms with its claw-like appendages and lifted her up.

Somehow, all her strength was sapped. There was no escaping it. Relighting her eyes, Buttercup stared once again at the being, noticing sharp spines down its back, some kind of white fur around its neck and… a red jacket? She felt the claws expand, taking the form of chitinous fingers, five on each side.

Its eyes were glowing bright, so bright that they were drowning out Buttercup's view of its face.

"You look so afraid, Buttercup!" the gigantic abomination taunted her. "Well, you really SHOULDN'T BE!"

That was the moment when Buttercup woke up and realized that it had all been a bad dream.

* * *

'Hey, Dad… I'm sorry I overreacted down in the labs. I'm sorry I nearly killed Mister Smith and Missus Smith. I just… They shouldn't have hurt you. I love you, Dad, and I don't want you to be hurt. But there's this other thing… I've been killing people outside and it's been hurting me inside, here in my heart, and I can't tell you about them.

Maybe I could tell you about them here? Maybe we'll get to listen to them in the future… In spring and summer, when the sky will be blue and the ground green, when there'll be no bad people and we'll get to spend more time together…' - Bunny Utonium, 03/04/89, 0456. Sound Record File 6.

Addendum: B-50 would produce yet more audio files throughout the night, all of which details her missions with an emphasis on who she had killed and what she thought about them. Her reactions to these deaths range from vindication to guilt and grief. Below is a summary of the subsequent audio files.

Sound Record File 7: A reiteration of her involvement in Mister Wiggums' death and her regret over the incident.

Sound Record File 8: An account of her killing of Foundation agents in a bunker in the outskirts of Townsville. Her emotional response to this was confusion.

Sound Record File 9: An account of her first mission outside training where she takes on a warehouse full of cultists, mafia members, and Foundation terrorists. She seemed to feel less remorse over their deaths, though she still wished she didn't have to kill.

Sound Record File 10: An account of her killing of the police officers in the Expositos' hideout at the Slums. She was not proud of this, though she did say that some of them deserved it.

Sound Record File 11: She told a story of how she murdered a police officer and his entire family. She seemed to suffer most of her guilt from this mission due to her killing of a child close to her physical age.

Sound Record File 12: An account of the massacre in Precinct 109. She felt uncertainty over this, though her narration indicates that she knows at least some of the police officers she killed were guilty.

* * *

**Townsville Tribune Extract 04 MAR (Saturday) 1989**

**RASH OF COP-KILLINGS CONTINUE - TPD TERRIFIED**

Townsville is a city of history, and now history has been made once more, this time of the grim kind. Yesterday, on the third of March, Friday, in the sleepy eastern suburbs, Blueberry Street, a police officer on leave, Sergeant Damian Connelly, was stabbed to death in the living room of his home.

His family was not spared either, with Joanne Connelly, his wife and homemaker, said to have been shot in the back of her head with her own shotgun after being wrestled to the ground. Howard Connelly, his son, was killed on the second floor after Joanne. Based on forensic evidence, it was revealed that he was being shot at, with wooden shrapnel found on his skin, before finally being cornered in his room and killed via several impacts to the head using the butt of a shotgun. The murder weapon was abandoned at the scene of the crime.

Eyewitness accounts suggest that the perpetrator is highly proficient. Multiple eyewitnesses could not recall seeing the perpetrator, suggesting that he, or she, had taken great pains to sneak up on the household, succeeding. The attack on the Connelly family had happened within the space of five minutes to ten minutes. By the time first responders arrived on the scene, the perpetrator was long gone. This shows a degree of planning and efficiency in the killing, suggesting military or law enforcement training.

There is some silver lining to this tragedy, however. Eyewitness accounts have also stated that there is one survivor in the attack. Some of them have reported that a girl scout had approached the Connelly family for donations with cookies and that this girl scout was later seen running out of the building. The strongest theory to explain this is that the girl scout must have hidden from the attacker and ran out when the opportunity presented itself. The TPD is still searching for this brave little lady for help in identifying the perpetrator of the Connelly Killings. She is believed to be a girl scout, brunette and around eight to ten years old. The police would like the public to help identify this little league survivor to help with this case.

The killing of the Connelly family is not the end of it, however. On the same day, at around 10 pm, Precinct 109 at the Smith Cottages was attacked by an unknown assailant. Police investigators who worked through the night mentioned in their interviews that the murderer here might be the same perpetrator from the Connelly Killings, as the police officers, prisoners and civilians in the precinct were killed with military precision, with shots that had mostly landed in vital areas of the victims such as the heart and brain.

Eleven police officers were killed in the raid on the precinct, as well as six prisoners and four civilians. The attack has sent shockwaves through the TPD, as well as the general public as such an act, especially one so successful, is unprecedented. While there had been several other raids on TPD precincts in the past, none of them had been so deadly as to wipe out the entire station.

The Precinct 109 Massacre is made problematic even further by the fact that, by the time police officers on patrol duty had returned to the precinct, the killer was already gone. Investigations into the massacre were further hampered by non-functional security cameras, which just so happens to be undergoing maintenance the day it happened and was only due to being re-activated the following day.

It seems too coincidental for the security cameras of the precinct to be dark right when Townsville's latest cop-killer struck - Anyone can be excused for thinking so. As it turns out, it was not a coincidence. Anonymous tip-offs suggest that Precinct 109 is a hive of police corruption, and the cameras were never functional except during official inspections, ensuring that no illegal activities would be recorded on tape.

The killer had not done the city any favors by wiping out the entire precinct. The TPD's Internal Affairs Department states that 'only' 70%-80% of the precinct were suspected to be corrupt, which meant that there were some officers on the straight and narrow who had been killed. Corrupt or not, regardless, justice has not been served and it would be hypocritical to wish the corrupt death.

The killer is still at large. The police would like to urge the public to stay calm and report any suspicious activities in the city that might have anything to do with the cop-killer, whom the public had taken to calling all sorts of names: Anti-Blue, Copper Stamper or simply the Cop-Killer of '89.

In the meantime, the TPD spokesperson urges calm and wishes to reassure the public that Townsville's finest will do well to protect themselves and their dependents. Already, plans are already being executed to maximize manpower mobilization. The Superiority Tactics and Response Squad has seen its membership expand over the weeks, and will be put on high alert in the case of another attack on police officers, in addition to being ready to deploy on the push of a button against any terrorist threats or attacks by 'abnormal criminals'.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1433.**

It felt like an eternity, the last time Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup visited Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks, and the last time they did, things weren't looking up. Elodie was barely herself; she couldn't afford to be herself as she had been really ill, coughing up blood and panting with even the slightest exertions. She was bedridden, so they couldn't do much that day, and it was more about keeping Elodie company than having fun.

The Girls had reached the Morbucks estate by flight within a half-hour, but when they were greeted by one of the maids, Annie, they were met with surprise and lack of preparation, as if they weren't expected at all.

"I apologize for the lack of hospitality, Girls, but poor little Miss Morbucks isn't here today," Annie said to the Girls as she stood at the grand entrance of the mansion, looking down at them.

"But…" Blossom looked left and right at Bubbles and Buttercup, who was looking back at her, expecting her to be the leader and speak up for them. "But Mister Morbucks said we could come and visit her? We talked to him on the phone and he said yes…"

"Oh, that poor man…" the maid remarked, putting her hand on her chest as if she was about to stumble backward and faint. "He's so stricken with grief that he's lost all his faculties…"

"What do you mean, Miss Annie?" Blossom asked, unable to decipher half of what the maid said. All she understood was that Mister Morbucks himself wasn't exactly feeling great, physically and emotionally. She had gathered that from the last time she met him. He was barely hanging on when they met over a week ago. His face was constantly in his hands, and whenever she saw it, it would have puffy eyes, surrounded by streaks of sweat on a face almost colored like the snow on her lawn.

"Elodie hasn't been getting any better, and the father's been taking it pretty hard. That Princess is his most precious little thing, after all…" Annie went on to explain. Blossom thought that the Princess' personal maid seemed quite calm about it. It was good to have someone as level-headed as her around.

"Oh..." Blossom's eyes wandered down to the floor. Elodie Morbucks was her friend too, one of just a few who were about the same size as her. It was very unfortunate that she was suffering, and it would be even more unfortunate if they lost her that way.

"But what do we do now?" Bubbles asked, stepping up. "Elodie needs us. She said so herself, and… and so did her dad."

"Yeah, we flew all the way here and it took half an hour!" Buttercup added though it wasn't for her sisters' sake, nor was it even for Elodie's sake. "We usually weren't allowed to leave the house on our own and I'm not leaving until I see Elodie!"

"Bubbles and Buttercup's right. We should see Elodie or she'll be really sad and lonely," Blossom said. Miss Annie sighed.

"It's not up to me," Miss Annie said before continuing: "But I'm sure Mister Morbucks himself wouldn't mind seeing the three of you. It is not my place to point the way to the Princess, but maybe Mister Morbucks himself might do it."

The maid would then lead Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup through the mansion of the Morbucks family. While they already knew the way to Mister Morbucks' office, they didn't mind taking their time, especially Blossom and Bubbles, who didn't know what to expect from the big man himself. Buttercup had kept her mouth shut throughout the journey through the massive mansion, surprisingly, though it was only because they were making progress towards seeing the Princess and going places. Being slow was better than being at a standstill.

When they had finally reached Mister Morbucks' office, the maid knocked on the door before opening it. She didn't wait despite the distressful noise of altercation coming from within the office. Blossom, in particular, thought that Annie must have thought it was normal because she didn't appear too bothered by it, and had followed through with her actions almost nonchalantly.

"-can't promise any better odds than this!" a well-dressed gentleman with a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles was saying when the door was opened.

"Get out!" Mister Morbucks threw a stack of files at the man. The cluster of thickly-stacked papers struck the gentleman in the head and chest. He had to adjust his spectacles to prevent it from falling and breaking. The gentleman then scooped up the avalanche of papers before hurriedly making his leave, at first stopping because he was shocked to see the famed and enigmatic Powerpuff Girls, before cautiously squeezing past them and running away as though they were going to kill him. To be fair, the corridor they were in wasn't very well lit, and their eyes had probably frightened him.

"God damn quack doctor and his useless treatments! What is this, the feudal ages!?" Mister Morbucks was practically shrieking at no one in particular; he was so engrossed in calling the doctor names that he didn't turn to look at the Girls at all nor notice the Girls immediately. "All the money in the world and I'm surrounded by a bunch of SYCOPHANTS and DIMWITS!"

He pounded his fists on his bookcase. Though his size was almost as prodigious as his wealth, the wood of the bookcase didn't so much as creak nor the books move. "What am I supposed to do, Elodie?" He cried and would have shed some tears had he not finally turned to the door to notice the three sets of eyes poking out of the near-darkness just outside.

"Powerpuff Girls!" he remarked in surprise, his face flushed from the realization that someone had been watching all along.

"I still hate that team name…" Buttercup whispered to herself and was quickly given a disapproving glare from Blossom, who'd overheard.

"Please, come in, come in," Mister Morbucks gestured for them to enter, putting on the gentlest smile possible, though his flushed complexion was counterproductive to it. "I apologize for my outburst and ramblings - I'm sorry you have to hear that." He quickly marched all the way back to his desk and sat behind it. "Please, have a seat."

The Girls, confused, flew up to the desk and sat on its surface, rather than the chair opposite him. They never liked that chair, even if it was an expensive leather luxury furniture ergonomically designed for the human spine; it wasn't quite meant for little kids, and the three of them would have to squeeze into that one chair. Besides, they considered Mister Morbucks a friend after they had learned to forgive him for the stunt he'd pulled back when he tried to raise funds for the USDO through a charity ball. Even Buttercup thought little about that day - she welcomed the fake terrorists as a distraction and enjoyed the brief adrenaline rush of the staged attack. Blossom and Bubbles believed he meant well.

As soon as the Girls had flown to their 'seats' on the massive wooden table, Mister Morbucks was up on his feet again. He had gone to a wine cabinet just behind him, surprisingly fast for someone his vertical and horizontal size. Instead of reaching for a bottle of wine, which he knew wouldn't be appropriate even for enhanced children, he took a glass pot full of some kind of yellowish beverage. He turned around.

"How about some lemonade, Girls?" Mister Morbucks offered with a hard-won smile as if he'd chomped down on a lemon himself. 'The Powerpuff Girls are here. That makes it all better, right?' he thought. He had shared the enthusiasm for the Girls that some Townsville residents of varying prominence had. He hadn't forgotten how they had saved both him and his daughter from certain doom back when the Foundation had attacked his research labs because of his perceived cooperation with the USDO. The Foundation wasn't wrong on that notion.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup couldn't reject the lemonade, so they each took a mug of the stuff. Blossom and Bubbles were taking reserved sips from the fruity beverage, while Buttercup was guzzling down on it.

"The lemon the juice was made from was freshly harvested from northern India. My kitchen staff knows where to source for the best lemons…" Mister Morbucks rambled on, unsure and even cautious about how he should proceed.

"It's nice of you to give us some, Mister Morbucks," Blossom thanked the tycoon before taking another sip of the lemonade. "But…"

"What about Elodie, Mister Morbucks?" Bubbles finished Blossom's sentence for her. It wasn't just the synchronization from their Sister Sense kicking in; she was unable to contain her worries and fears for the Princess. "What happened to her?"

"Oh…" Mister Morbucks crashed back down into his seat, rubbing his head. He could feel a migraine coming on from the lack of sleep and building stress. His daughter's health, which was spiraling down into oblivion, had taken a toll on him, and as if that wasn't enough, his divided attention had caused him to blunder in his leadership as an industry captain. Even his own corporation had taken a hit. Growth was slowing and even reversing. If only his mistakes were the only cause of it. No, the rabbit hole went deeper, way deeper. "Elodie…"

"Are you upset that we brought her up?" Buttercup continued the Girls' dialogue, surprisingly, feeling a sudden pang of emotion from the anomaly in her brain, which was linked to Elodie and her father and what they had provided for her. She thought she felt… gratitude? Friendship? Those fleeting emotions were strange, alien even. The urge to act on them felt inevitable, at least for as long as it lasted.

"No, no!" Mister Morbucks said quickly, removing his hand from pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's just- she's in the hospital right now, even though I promised I wouldn't put her there, I…" He wiped something from his eyes before the Girls could see. "She's getting worse and…" He was shaking by the time he'd reached this part of the conversation. Even the naive Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup could see that he was barely in control of himself.

But then Mister Morbucks took in a deep breath, shut his eyes tightly, briefly, before opening them again.

"I've put her in the best hospital money can buy, put the best doctor money can buy on her case, choosing the most expensive treatments but…" Mister Morbucks continued. "Her odds aren't good. The hospital director promised me a one in five chance she might go into remission and, well…"

It didn't strike the financial guru immediately that he had been discussing some morbid details with what were essentially little kids (or babies, not that he was aware of their true age), but when he did, he was shocked at himself.

"I'm sorry I brought all that up," Mister Morbucks apologized. "The three of you shouldn't have to hear that."

"But I'm glad you did," Blossom said. "When my friends are in trouble, I'll want to know…"

"Maybe we can make it all better?" Bubbles suggested.

"And how are you going to do that, Bubs?" Buttercup asked cynically, crossing her arms. As hard as it was for Mister Morbucks to admit it, his sentiments were the same as Buttercup. "She's sick, and we can't punch or blast or shoot or lase sickness!"

"Maybe some hugs and kisses will make it go away?" Bubbles suggested.

"That's stupid!" Buttercup cried in disbelief.

"You're stupid!" Bubbles retorted, frustrated at Buttercup's negativity. Blossom had to intervene by pulling both of them into one-armed hugs before continuing with the interrupted conversation with Mister Morbucks.

"Hugs and kisses, and maybe some fun! Maybe she won't feel so bad that way! That's what we wanted to do with Elodie today, Mister Morbucks," Blossom added more ideas on top of Bubbles'. "I don't know if we could make her all better again, but she doesn't have to be alone."

"Oh… crap…" Mister Morbucks realized his mistake with the Powerpuff Girls way too late, and it'd embarrassed him. "I apologize for making the three of you fly all the way here - I was just too... swamped and… troubled."

"That's okay, Mister Morbucks," Blossom reassured the tycoon. "Everyone makes mistakes. That's what my Dad said and it's true…" Her smile disappeared the moment she mentioned the phrase. It'd reminded her of the number of skeletons she'd been piling in her closet. Had she made some mistakes herself? But it couldn't be! She's the smart one! Yet, it felt that way…

"Yes, you're absolutely right…" the Princess' father said. He'd gone back to rubbing his head. Reaching for a vial of pills, he shook two out and swallowed them with a gulp of his lemonade. Looking at Blossom, he thought she seemed troubled, but decided not to pursue it, what with the enormity of his own problems. "She's warded at Kingdom Hospital. It's a private hospital. Do you need directions?"

Blossom closed her eyes. She could see the entire city that way, fly through it as if she was in a simulation. Within a second, she knew exactly how to get to Kingdom Hospital.

"No, I don't," Blossom said.


	98. Chapter 92: No Bang for Morbucks Part 2

**Reply to Guest (Chapter 91): Actually, 'Brick', a captain of the USDO, is found in Project Powerpuff: Declassified, but who knows? He might appear in this story again. He's in Chapter 79: Mercy. Captain Brian 'Brick' Griffin.**

**A/N: I have contingencies in place, in case I can't complete the story due to factors out of my control. You guys will know how this story will end regardless of my status. I will continue writing this story until the situation devolves to a critical (and/or lethal) point, which will also be the time when my contingency plan will be launched.**

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**Chapter 92: No Bang for Morbucks (Part 2)**

**TOWNSVILLE CRIME WAR INTENSIFIES**

**MAYOR WILFORD ESTIMATES END OF WAR IN JUNE**

It is a time to be alive. For over two decades, Townsville's crime problem has been on a steep increase, but with the recent entry of the USDO and the Powerpuff Girls into the scene, that trend has been reversing as of late. It has not been a smooth ride, as Townsville has seen an unprecedented 50% drop in most crimes by the start of February, only for crime rates to creep up sharply over the month once more. To most concerned, it sounds as if the sharp drop in crime was just a false start leading to a very evil real positive in crime resurgence.

Recently, however, there has been some cause for celebration. Under the Cooperative Law Enforcement Initiative between the Townsville Police Department and the United States Defence Organization, the Powerpuff Girls have been sent, day after day, to raid the headquarters of some of the biggest organized crime syndicates known in Townsville. On their hit list were included the Expositos crime family (a well-known Italian mob controlling the slums), the Japanese Yakuza (who considers Little Tokyo their territory), the Jewish Mob (who operates numerous small cells across major districts in Townsville) and the Chinese Triad (who operates from within Townsville's own Chinatown).

Behind this large-scale offensive against the criminals plaguing the city is Police Chief Feig of Precinct 77, who has been put in charge of the TPD's side of the cooperative program. Known for spending the majority of his two decades of law enforcement career in the most crime-ridden areas of the city, it was his plan, now put in action, that landed him the responsibility.

'At the end of the day, it's all just part of the job. Routine work,' Police Chief Feig remarked during an interview with him on the nature of his responsibility in the C.L.E.I and how he is so successful in getting rid of Townsville's worst criminals where two decades of police work could not put a dent in it. 'I know all about the gangs and syndicates of Townsville. We get the right people to RICO them, and the USDO sends in the Powerpuff Girls to shake things up. It's the maximum use of minimal resources that I'm most proud of. I don't need a massive task force that like how some of my peers do it - we don't know who we can trust until we've reached the light at the end of the tunnel.'

'I highly doubt it,' Police Chief Feig went on to say with a burst of hearty laughter when asked by our in-house journalist on whether he is worried about being targeted by the city's deadliest hitmen, especially when there have been recent developments in which police officers are being targeted by a mysterious killer. 'My headquarter's a police complex with fifty officers I can trust at any one time, twenty on the SWAT team and our very own STARS team. I live within five minutes of my HQ. Yeah, they know not to mess with me.'

Furthermore, when asked why he has not requisitioned the Powerpuff Girls to arrest the Lombardi dons, popularly known as the Amoeba Boys, he has this to say: 'The Lombardi Crime Family, although larger than most mobs in Townsville, are not as deadly nor prolific as the rest of them. We go after the worst of the worst, unlike Lieutenant Mullens and his Lombardi Task Force - they're barking up the wrong tree, even if their intentions are good.'

With the city's heroes and heroines, both old and new, on the job, there is perhaps hope that Townsville's long and bloody slide down into the abyss might end. Mayor Wilford himself, when interviewed, believes that the city is close to a new golden age and that he is glad he will get to see his hometown reborn in his lifetime.

'I'm more worried about the people on the frontlines - our police officers, even the everyday citizens who have to put up with the cracks that are still showing in our justice system despite the increase in funding. My heart goes out to the USDO, and especially Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup of The Powerpuff Girls unit, for just arriving to save the day even when we had no idea they existed in the first place,' the esteemed Mayor Wilford said at length during the interview. 'We, as a city, should show our appreciation for them - and I've got just the thing.'

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1451.**

Mister Morbucks watched as the Powerpuff Girls - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup - flew out of his window and into the sky on their way to Kingdom Hospital, where his daughter, Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks, was warded in. Even for a billionaire like him, he was surprised that he had maintained a kind of friendship with what was likely the world's most powerful children. He was glad that he did. It was like a meeting of like-minded individuals - the powerful meeting the powerful - and he was glad for their company, however fleeting it could be.

Most importantly, they were a blessing that Elodie needed. The tycoon was hoping that somehow, as superstitious as it sounded, the Powerpuff Girls' power might rub off on Elodie a little, make her feel better, even cure her of her lethal cancer. If nothing else, he knew for a fact that Elodie hadn't been able to make any friends owing to the isolation caused by her wealth and health - until recently, when the Powerpuff Girls came to save the day.

Mister Morbucks turned on his boss chair to face a poster behind him. It was Elodie, modeling for a kid's fashion company when she was four. She was put in an expensive princess dress; she was crowned that day for the shoot. Before the Powerpuff Girls came along, it was the happiest day of her life; her fame had grown tenfold when that poster circulated, and that was on top of being famous for being the daughter of a homegrown billionaire.

There was a knock on the door. A few hollow knocks. Mister Morbucks knew who it was.

"Am I disturbing you?" the guest of his personal office asked. It was a female voice. He welcomed it and loathed it at the same time if such a thing was at all possible.

The billionaire turned around to face his door. It was one of his housemaid, Annie - the one he had assigned to wait on Elodie, at least back when his daughter was still in the mansion.

"No. No, you're not," Mister Morbucks said. He got up from his chair; all the anxiety had made him move more often lately. Walking over to his wine bar, he poured himself some 'cheap' whiskey, mixed it with some juice in a wine glass, before turning around. "What is it?"

"Have you considered the option I presented to you?" Annie reminded the man. Mister Morbucks took a swill of his whiskey.

Annie wasn't just a maid. In fact, it was more likely that she was no housemaid at all. The tycoon sank back down to his chair, sweat prickling out of his forehead once more. The question she asked was a loaded one, with a lot of history behind it.

The moment the USDO came into Townsville, he had been contacted by Director Cliff and the, then, Chief of Security Blackwater. Morbucks Industry's scientific and industrial capacity was a match to the USDO, even superior in some ways, and the USDO wanted a partnership with it - with him in particular.

The Powerpuff Girls had no idea what was in store for them - literally. The USDO had shared its technological and scientific data with Morbucks, and in return, Morbucks Industry improved on them, helped to accelerate the USDO's research. Among some of the projects conceived in this partnership was the production of suits of power armor, designed to draw on Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's innate Chemical X energy. That energy would then be channeled to all the subsystems of the power armor, including an on-board computer system, environmental filtration system, personal jet turbines, the exoskeleton (as if the Girls need more strength!) and reactive armor.

There were numerous kinks to work out, however, as could be expected from a project as technologically cutting edge as this, but it was only a matter of time. However, the project was halted recently, pending changes certain changes that General Blackwater wanted to make to the design. What he knew was limited for now - but he knew that the general wanted the dimensions of the power armor altered to be larger for some reason - meaning it would not be for the Powerpuff Girls.

When Elodie's genetic cancer got worse, Mister Morbucks had appealed to the USDO for help. He knew about their medical technology through reports related to the various projects with the USDO. He knew they'd got to have something. He'd met with Doctor Simmons, only to be told that much of the medical miracles he'd been able to work out were prophylactic, preventative - preventing cancer from ever taking root and slowing down aging - but even the USDO could not cure cancer. At a close second, the USDO's medical sciences were obsessed with battlefield medicine and surgery, which wasn't a shock to him.

His conversation with Doctor Simmons then turned to the idea of putting Chemical X into Elodie. That conversation turned into a conference meeting with Director Cliff and his council, but whatever hope he had in experimenting with Chemical X as a treatment option had turned to dust within thirty minutes of talking to the man.

Mister Morbucks, a self-made man, an inventor, industrialist, captain of industry, a tycoon worth billions, had tried to talk reason into them, and when that didn't work, he tried bargaining with them. Bargaining turned to begging and soon turned up nothing. He'd tried everything. He'd even offered up Elodie's service as an enhanced individual, a bioweapon or organic weapons platform, should she be turned into something resembling the Powerpuff Girls - but he was completely rejected. For a bunch of people who saw fit to send little girls into combat, they thought up a lot of excuses for doing so.

"It is one thing that we've created Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup from scratch - by accident - but it's another to subject your daughter to human experimentation!" Doctor Vanum, the acting Head of Research, had said. "That is not what a good father should do!"

"We draw the line between hardened criminals and innocents." Doctor Vanum's assistant added.

"Are there not treatment options available in the wide world? You admitted it yourself that you have yet to receive a report from your doctors. It is unethical to consider something that could very well be lethal when there are still other, more reliable, options available," Doctor Simmons, the Medical Director of the USDO had rejected him as well. It went downhill from there very quickly.

"The nerve that you have!" General Blackwater had slammed the table when it was his turn to speak. He would then rise up from his seat like a dragon getting ready to breathe fire down on him. "The USDO isn't some place you can shop around for services and favors! You do not negotiate with us! We DO NOT owe you any favors! What you have done for us is a service to the United States of America, not some shady business deal! You should be lucky you're even being paid for it! How dare you!"

The general would have seized Mister Morbucks by the neck had Director Cliff not gestured for him to settle down.

"While your service to the nation is appreciated, Mister Morbucks," the man in charge of the USDO said. "I simply can't allow our secret weapon - our Chemical X - to be squandered like this, to be compromised that way. Yes, don't forget it - Chemical X is a weapon, not some... over-the-counter medication you prescribe to your daughter."

"Our security personnel has been stretched thin as it is," Chief of Security Kate, who had just returned from a tour around the country, added. "Even if your daughter - Elodie, was it? Even if she becomes a new bioweapon, we will need extra manpower to support her, extra funding aside. It's something we can't afford."

"That's actually my line," Chief Financial Officer Silverslick made himself known. He wasn't a very prominent figure of the USDO council, considering that he was both new and a civilian in a militarized organization. "Yes, we can't afford another bioweapon. I can't reveal the full details, but you have no idea how much money is involved. Manufacturing even just the hygiene and medical products, like scissors and surgical scalpels, to maintain a bioweapon alone is exorbitant, not to mention the manpower cost."

By that point, Mister Morbucks had given up reasoning with them - he would likely grow a full head of hair in the process of it, and by then, Elodie would likely be pushing up daisies.

And now, back in the present, someone else offered an alternative, and Mister Morbucks couldn't say no.

"The Foundation will save your daughter where the USDO would rather watch her die from afar, like the cowards they are," Annie continued to hover over him, whispering promises. Whether she was an angel or a demon, he had no idea. But it didn't matter. She was here, offering help where medical professionals couldn't promise anything and the USDO wouldn't even deign to make promises. "The Foundation does not have its own stock of Chemical X, but they have something called 'Chemical W', and it works almost as well as X."

Mister Morbucks did not say a word. 'Almost as well as X' didn't strike him as a very good sales pitch to go by. And yet, what choice did he have? It wouldn't be the first time he's had to make questionable choices.

"It's not going to grant your daughter many enhancements, but that's not what you're looking for, are you?" Annie went on, walking around the desk. She sat down on the great wooden surface and put a hand over Mister Morbucks', caressing it. "You're a good father, Morbucks. The extent you go for poor little Elodie is admirable. Lesser men would have told themselves in the back of their minds that it is hopeless. They would have lied through their teeth to their children about how 'everything's going to be fine' and that 'heaven's close by'. But not you, Mister Morbucks… Not you."

"Your name's not even Annie, is it?" Mister Morbucks uttered. He remembered hiring her back in January. Her resume had floated to the top on his butler's recommendations. She was university-educated on top of having been through training as a chef and housekeeper, had traveled all over the world, knew five languages and had served as a maidservant for a millionaire in Citysville. "I knew it was too stereotypical a name for a maid."

'Annie' threw her head back in laughter, ripping off her maid's headdress at the same time. Her hair fell all around her, undone. "That was a stupid cover name, I'll admit," she said, before leaning close to Mister Morbucks' face, putting a hand on his cheek. Mister Morbucks seized up; it had been a long, long time since a woman had treated him that way. "But it did get me close to you. I've seen the way you were looking at me."

She looked like she was just about to kiss him when she backed off and pulled a rolled-up piece of document before unfurling it right before his eyes, putting it down on his tabletop and securing the curling corners with Mister Morbucks' prodigious collection of paperweights. One of them was even a memorabilia of Blossom, one of a few merchandises the USDO had allowed a corporation to market recently.

Mister Morbucks read the terms on the piece of paper. The first one was: 'The Foundation takes no responsibility for any negative mental and physical changes occurring in Elodie Morbucks.' The billionaire knew what it meant. He knew about Chemical X's predecessor while he was working on producing hardware for the Powerpuff Girls' use. Chemical W was known to induce psychopathy in the majority of its subjects. Only animals seem less susceptible to the phenomenon.

The second term was: 'The Foundation shall gain the use of Elodie Morbucks should she prove to be an effective bioweapon.' It was likely to be the case. Chemical W had a high potency when it came to enhancing individuals, second only to Chemical X. What strange powers Elodie would gain, however, Mister Morbucks was afraid to even ponder on.

The third term was: The Foundation shall receive a lump sum payment of $100 million for the service it renders, whether it results in the survival of Elodie Morbucks or not. Mister Morbucks wasn't put off by this term; money, these days, was the only thing he had in overflowing abundance, and he had only one Elodie, one daughter - even one family member left after his wife had left him for the next world. Neither was he disturbed by the implication that there was a chance for failure. Surely it couldn't be less than twenty percent, could it?

The fourth term was: 'The Foundation shall be given the rights to do further business with Morbucks Industries and its CEO, Mister Magnus Morbucks. All deals put forth by the Foundation must be accepted in part or in whole.' By 'business', he had no idea what that entailed, but he was willing to do anything for his daughter.

And the final term was: 'The details of this exchange must not be revealed to anyone, by anyone with or without links to Mister Magnus Morbucks. A breach of this term or any other terms that apply indefinitely, in any capacity, will result in the termination of all members of the Morbucks family.'

There was nothing much to think about anymore. All that mattered was Elodie's life. After gulping down on his whiskey, Mister Morbucks signed the paper before leaning back on his chair, as if he had just done something physically exhausting.

"You've made the right choice there, Mister Morbucks," 'Annie' said to her 'boss', before taking back the document.

"When will the treatment begin?" he asked.

"As soon as we can bring all the necessary materials and people together," the Foundation agent said. "Give us a week."

To Annie, and to the inner circle of the Foundation, it was the perfect ploy. They had everything to gain and nothing to lose: they would extract boundless resources from Mister Morbucks, they would gain a possible new enhanced individual to serve as an agent in the form of Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks, and everything that the tycoon owned would be at the service of the Foundation.

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**The City of Townsville. Central District. Kingdom Hospital.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1513.**

Thankfully for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, Kingdom Hospital wasn't too far away from the Morbucks Mansion. After flying for a quarter of an hour, or slightly more, they touched down at the entrance of the hospital, attracting eyeballs everywhere. Few people had seen the Powerpuff Girls in person, and they were considered quite a sight. Dangerous, sure, but it was like watching a lion from afar, even if there was a conceivable chance that it might attack. The few pedestrians who had cameras began snapping photos. Bubbles waved at them, at everyone, while her sisters weren't in the mood for it.

Walking into the hospital lobby, they weren't spared from being stared at either. All eyes were on them as they entered, whether those eyes belonged to medical staff or patients or security. As the Powerpuff Girls walked up to the reception desk, people were getting out of the way, giving them a wide berth. Some ran out of the hospital when they could. Buttercup's frown had helped with that even though it had nothing to do with the runners.

Although the receptionist was on the phone, the moment she saw who was coming towards her, she finished her conversation quickly before slamming the phone down. And then they started hovering in mid-air, attracting gasps and cries of terror. The receptionist shivered in fear when she saw it happen right before her eyes. She had never seen them before - the Powerpuff Girls - not in person. She couldn't help but wonder if she had done anything wrong.

It didn't help with the fear factor that the glowing-eyed girls had scars all over them, easily visible as some of them were on their faces. Buttercup's Glasgow smile was especially horrifying.

"I- I swear, I've been a good little lady!" the receptionist couldn't help but utter. The lead Powerpuff Girl, Blossom, was impossible to make eye contact with. Her eyes were shining bright pink as if it could pierce deep into her very soul. She'd seen videos of Blossom burning people with heat beams coming from her eyes. Buttercup and her green eyes weren't much better. Bubbles was the only one of The Three who she could conceivably hold a conversation without fearing for her life.

"That's great, Miss Nurse," Blossom said with an innocent smile that the receptionist found threatening all the same.

"I'm a- a- receptionist," the woman tried to speak, but she still found herself stuttering from fear. "H-how can I- urm- help you?"

"We're looking for Princess," Blossom inquired. "Mister Morbucks said she'd be here."

"P-Princess?" the receptionist asked. Her mind had gone blank where she would be on top of it normally.

"Yeah, Elodie Morbucks? Princess?" Buttercup growled at her.

"He- I mean- She's on l-level 3. The- urm- w-ward 5," the woman stuttered her way out of the awkward exchange. Blossom couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the receptionist. Shouldn't people stop being afraid of them by now? After everything, they had been doing? She hated being feared, and now, it reminded her of her dark secrets and questionable deeds, as people would likely freak out on hearing about them. Blossom couldn't help but feel a little insecure because of this.

"You look scared, Miss Nurse," Bubbles said. "Are you okay?"

The receptionist need only take a single look at Buttercup, who was wearing both a psychotic smile and a Glasgow Smile to know the answer. Just one glimpse of Buttercup had caused the receptionist to break out in cold sweats, but she tried smiling. And failed. She'd ended up with what amounted to forced curling of the lips.

"I'm a receptionist, not a nurse!" the woman freaked out - despite what she said, being called the wrong title was the least of her concerns.

"Of course she's afraid, Bubbles. They all are," Buttercup said, knowing how right she was. Even the average layperson knew about the exploits of the Powerpuff Girls. They knew that they had killed a good number of criminals and injured many more. They knew they had done worst in the earlier days, and they knew what kind of horror they were capable of, shooting out what amounted to death beams from their eyes, crushing cars and concrete walls with their bare fists.

"I think we should just go, Bubbles, Buttercup," Blossom decided, and started pulling her sisters away from the shaking receptionist. But then she stopped floating away and pulling her sisters, then turned around again. "Erm, which way to the Princess, Miss Nurse?"

The receptionist said nothing and answered their question by pointing the way with one trembling arm.

"Thanks, Miss Nurse!" Buttercup thanked the woman, her voice fading as Blossom began pulling her towards the lift lobby. Eyes were still staring at them, sometimes with terror in them, sometimes scrutinizing them. Blossom, for one, didn't care. She just wanted to solve the current task of finding Princess. Bubbles just wanted to see Elodie as, from what Mister Morbucks had said about her, she was worried sick about her.

They went two floors up, then navigated to the Princess' ward by looking at the numbers, flying haphazardly past doctors and nurses and patients, yelling apologies at them as they nearly caused one accident or another. It was only when they encountered the magic '5' that they stopped, landing right outside the swivel doors of Elodie's ward.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Central District. Kingdom Hospital.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1519.**

Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks had been lying in her bed all day long. Scratch that. It wasn't even her bed, and it was making her back ache. She hadn't been able to do anything; even the slightest exertion would tire her out. She had been breathing through a respirator for a while, as her lungs, too, were compromised by the growth of tumors. Her arm hurt, as she had been put on an IV drip.

Gift cards, balloons, chocolates, toys and sweets formed a ring around her, and yet she could not enjoy any of them, not just because she was bedridden, but because she didn't want to. Emotionally drained, it felt like it was the end for her - everyone she had come to love seemed distant, and despite the lengths, they had gone to reconcile with her, the wounds of old were still stinging her from the inside. Time, it seemed, had a way of making people think, and those thoughts tend to take a turn for the darkest path. The pain, the utter hopelessness and oppressive depression had helped her along.

She didn't even have the energy to cry anymore. Her mind felt like breaking, turning animal and wiping itself clean when something flew through her door. Pink, baby blue and lime lines of light streaked up to her, and before she knew it, three little girls were floating next to her. She turned to look at them and gasped in surprise.

It was Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. She sobbed, finally letting what little tears she had left out, but they weren't tears of sadness. With difficulty, Princess lifted a hand, reaching out to them. Bubbles came forward and held it.

The Princess looked miserable. The long, flowing robes of fine material she usually wore were gone, replaced with a child's patient gown, little better than the usual kind with its light purple hue and intricate hospital logo. Where she was previously all words and laughter, despite her frailty, it was all replaced by the clinical, constant beeping of her heart monitor.

"Bubbles…" Elodie whispered to BFF, her voice barely audible - which wouldn't have been had it not been for the Girls' stellar hearing ability. "I'm sorry I can't really play with you guys…"

Bubbles floated next to her and sat down on her bed, putting Princess' hand on her chest. "It's okay, Elodie. It's just nice to see you again."

Blossom flew to the other side of the bed, sitting down next to the Princess. "Yeah, we kinda miss you."

"-and the stuff we used to do together," Buttercup added as she floated to the headboard of the bed.

"I feel terrible…" Elodie said. Bubbles pulled some tissue paper out of a box from a nearby table and started wiping away the Princess' tears.

"I know how it's like, Elodie," Bubbles said, but when it came to making her feel better, Bubbles was at a loss. "You don't have to do anything. I'll… urm…" She began looking around for something to do. There was a book amongst the Princess' gifts, so she took it and opened the book. "I can always read you a story!" It was the first thing she'd thought of, inspired by Dad. Bubbles loved it whenever he would read her a story.

"That would be nice…" the Princess said.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup would spend the next hour trying to distract Elodie Morbucks from her cancer. After Bubbles' reading of the story, which was fraught with mistakes because she hadn't learned fully how to read yet, Blossom found a puzzle book and together, they all tried to solve page after page of puzzles. They weren't entirely successful, owing to their young age, with the Princess being the oldest among them in real age. Buttercup showed the Princess how her MP5 worked after that.

And throughout all of this, Elodie smiled genuinely, for once, in her deteriorating health crisis. It'd brought all the good memories back up - her time with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had been nothing but good. They had shown her what real friendship was like, unlike the poor kids her dad had bought as her play buddies and homeschooling classmates.

"Promise me something?" she asked just before the Girls left. Though she was speaking to all three Girls, she was looking at Bubbles specifically, as if directing the question at her, charging her with the responsibility of fulfilling the promise.

Bubbles hovered back to Princess, holding her hand. "I'll promise anything, Elodie, if it means you'll get better…"

"Will you come back next Saturday? Please?" Elodie asked feebly, but there was desperation in her voice. "The doctors helping me said that they'll put me in a machine to help me with my sickness. I'm scared and I really want you to stay with me."

"Of course, Elodie. I promise I'll be here next Saturday," Bubbles said confidently, hoping that it would enliven her terminally ill friend. But she realized that some detail was missing."Urm… What time will it be, again?"

Elodie closed her eyes, racking her brain for answers. She'd heard it from the doctor while her father was speaking to him. Being at an age that could be counted with a single hand, and having a debilitating illness did not help. But it surfaced nonetheless - being her father's daughter, gifted in mind, even if that mind was threatened with death, she was able to rake her mind for it. "It's at one o'clock."

Blossom floated up next to Elodie, followed by Buttercup. "We'll be there, Princess. We won't miss it for anything," Blossom promised as well. When Buttercup did not follow along with it, she gave her a quick horse-kick in the shin.

"Yeah, I promise! When you're all better, we'll have some mint shakes together, like before!" Buttercup added.


	99. Chapter 93: Trauma

**Chapter 93: Trauma**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 2120.**

Bunny knocked on the door to Dad's office. It was only polite.

"Come in," a woman's voice called out from within. Bunny opened the door slowly, afraid of what she might find in the office despite all the assurances that Dad and Mom could give. The youngest of the quartet slipped through when she had opened the door wide enough. She didn't dare look up at the woman. Instead, she kept staring at her feet. "Now aren't you the shy one? Bubbles won't be the only one now. Please, have a seat on the couch."

Bunny complied and stiffly walked over to the couch. She perched on the edge of it, still staring down, this time at the coffee table as if she might need to leap into battle. She heard footsteps, then the crinkling of the sofa cover. The woman in cardigan picked up a bowl of sweets and thrust it closer to her. "Would you like one or a few? Bubbles made sure to phone me about what kind of sweets you'd like…"

Looking down at the bowl, Bunny saw orange gummy candies shaped like carrots, sheathed individually in transparent packaging. She would be lying if she were to say that she wasn't interested. So, reaching out for the bowl of sweets, Bunny took just a couple of gummy carrot sweets meekly before looking up cautiously.

It was Miss Alice, the psychiatrist attached to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, and now she would be tending to Bunny as well.

"My, my!" Miss Alice remarked while adjusting her spectacles, smiling. Reaching out, she took Bunny gently by the chin so that she could take a good look at her face. "Your eyes, they're beautiful." Bunny smiled at the compliment, but then remembered that her teeth would usually put people off so she made sure to close her lips tightly. Alice didn't miss the facial reaction.

"I'm not bothered by it, Bunny," she said. "Your teeth, I mean. It's pretty normal - not all kids have straight teeth."

"R-really?" Bunny said.

"It's not my job to lie to you, little rabbit," Miss Alice said candidly with a laugh. "But it is my job to talk to you."

"Talk about what, Miss Alice?" Bunny asked.

"Anything really, especially something that's been bothering you," the psychiatrist said. "You can trust me, Bunny. Your father and I go way back. We've been friends for years. Sure, we have our ups and downs-" Miss Alice remembered how Professor Utonium had gone ballistic on her when he felt his Girls were threatened, but she also remembered how she had helped him deal with grief, and he was grateful for it. "-But our friendship is still as strong as ever…"

Bunny was still apprehensive about talking to a woman she had barely met. If she couldn't even divulge the secrets of her missions, then she was sure she couldn't talk about them to her - even though she wanted to. It hurt to keep such secrets inside her. Had she been allowed to, she would have told anyone about them, even a stranger.

"I know we've just met and we have a way to go before you'd trust me," Alice went on, and it felt as if she was reading Bunny's mind. "Before we jump down that rabbit-hole, why not let's start with whatever you want to talk about?"

Bunny did not reply immediately. Instead, she played with the couple of carrot sweets she had taken with her hands, unsure of what else to do.

"I'm sorry if it's all too intense for you - it is your first session, after all," Alice said with worry in her voice. It wasn't what she expected. Professor Utonium mentioned before she took on Bunny that the youngest of the four sisters was also the strongest, the toughest. She had read reports about Bunny, all of which didn't exactly gloss over her achievements in training, but instead described in great detail how effective she was as a black ops agent. When Alice finally met Bunny, she thought that Bunny would take after Buttercup, but that did not prove to be the case. "How about if we talk about something recent? How was today's mission?"

Bunny's eyes flitted up to Alice's, and upon realizing that she had made eye contact with her, she looked away again. Bunny had been to a mission earlier today while Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were flying off to hang out with a friend. However, unlike her other missions, it wasn't black ops. It was a mission her elder sisters would have to embark on had she not been available. It was the very first mission she could talk about, she remembered now, and now she couldn't wait to talk to Dad about it! But first…

"It felt like a normal day at first, when I had to leave to protect my family again…" Bunny recounted.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Townsville Port. Quickdrop Warehousing Co.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1525.**

It felt like a normal day at first, when Bunny had to leave to protect her family again. In and out - Bunny could not believe that she could actually get used to something like this, especially something her Dad wouldn't be proud of. But her Dad was safe because of her, even if he was wounded. Her sisters were safe, even if Blossom was mad at her, Buttercup couldn't care less that she existed and Bubbles was upset all the time and she was helpless to comfort her.

But the moment she reached General Blackwater, she knew that it wasn't a normal day.

"Today's operation is simple. You'll finally get a taste of what your sisters' been going through. While it won't be an off-the-books black operation, you'll still need to conceal yourself while you're on the way there to preserve your edge as a secret weapon," the general said to her while they were hiding out far from the mission zone as usual, in some windowless, poorly-kept and dimly lit office. He, Rook and a few others were hunched over a map. Bunny could just barely look over the top of the table. "We're helping the police this time. There's a homegrown American mafia in the warehouse here-" the general pointed out a building on the map. "Their leadership has been hiding here ever since they found out that criminal gangs are being targeted."

"What do I do, general?" Bunny asked, even though she knew what an operation usually entailed. Deaths, lots of deaths.

"Kill anyone who resists. Ensure the arrest of those who didn't, or those who couldn't put up a fight anymore," the general said frankly, bluntly. "At least this way, you won't have to feel as guilty as you used to about the lives you have to take. Yes, I know exactly how you feel, Bunny." What the general said made little difference, Bunny knew; criminals, especially the cornered ones, would surely resist arrest. She would then shred them or break them apart, and few could survive her rampage.

General Blackwater turned to Bunny, hunching down. In a rare instance of compassion, the general stroked Bunny's hair, running his hand across her deceptively soft, brown hair, out of the view of his fellow USDO officers, of course. "You are your father's daughter. Of course, you are."

"T-thanks, General Blackwater…" Bunny said; she couldn't think of anything else to say. There was something odd with the way he'd put it, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. General Blackwater seemed proud that she was Professor Utonium's daughter, but weren't they little more than enemies to each other?

"Don't thank me, Bunny. What I said does not deserve gratitude," the general said, but Bunny was stuck when it came to what he meant. As if realizing he had done something wrong, the general withdrew his hand. He opened his mouth, only to shut it again as if wanting to say something more but decided against it. "Let's just begin planning your operation."

And so they did. The American Mafia's leaders were holed up in a warehouse attached to the Townsville Port. Intelligence suggested six of them, backed by twenty made-men. Just like in Bunny's attack on the warehouse where a criminal conference was being held, there were many entrances into the warehouse, but most of them were locked or chained up or even barred to fortify the warehouse - except that these slipshod security measures would be their undoing, making escape almost impossible. It was a tactic that would have worked on conventional police or paramilitary raid, as it would likely result in casualties. However, with Bunny, it was a death sentence for the mafia; their stronghold would become their trap.

The major difference between the warehouses was that the port warehouse was larger and contained more rooms.

When Bunny took to the field, she only had one entrance to worry about, and it was guarded by an excess of eight made-men. With the operation being conducted in broad daylight and the lack of any need for concealment beyond avoiding civilians on the way to 'work', Bunny did not have to take great pains in creeping up to her targets. On the commencement of the operation, she had darted from shipping containers to shipping containers to hide only for the sake of maintaining the element of surprise. The moment she had reached cover behind a forklift that oversaw the American Mafia members, she broke concealment immediately by firing on the guards.

Shots rang out from her modded MP5. She was able to aim and fire in quick succession, and before they could even flinch, four of them were dropping dead, leaving the rest panicking. Two of them crouched where they were, afraid to even move. Bunny executed the rest while they turned their back in an attempt to flee inside the building. By the end of it, the only things moving were the wind and fedora hats that were still falling.

Wasting no time, Bunny sprinted forth into the entrance and pulled one massive gate shut, followed by another, ignoring shouts coming from behind her. Shots were fired, but she wasn't concerned even when she felt one bouncing off her nape. Picking up a crowbar from a fallen mafia member, she stuck it into the handles of the gates and twisted it all around, making it impossible to open the gates again.

Gunshots continued to rain down her back. Swiveling around, she returned fire, putting down a couple more gangsters before disappearing behind some shelves.

"What was that!?" Bunny heard someone shouting.

"Who's here!" someone else yelled.

"What the fuck is this!? Did you lead your copper buddies in here!?" a man interrogated another; the voice sounded important, cracked and slimy.

"I didn't! I swear!" the interrogated man claimed. Bunny thought the conversation was interesting, so she looked in the direction of the conversation with her x-ray vision; the shelves of the warehouse were no barrier to this as they weren't hidden behind too many of them.

As it turned out, there were dirty cops on the scene as well. Surrounding them were about a dozen members of the American Mafia. She recognized some of them as the key leaders of the mob, including the boss himself. Angelo the Frank, who was known infamously for collecting eyeballs from his enemies and pickling them for display in a secret room, somewhere. It was just rumors, of course - though with criminals in Townsville, who knows?

The mobsters, as well as their dirty cop friends, had begun fanning out in search of her. Bunny began sprinting towards the eastern rooms, which she knew housed the power room. Hopping over a window that was little more than a hole in corrugated steel wall, she began going through doors - a couple of them, before the third door opened on its own with one of them coming through. Without hesitation and second thoughts, Bunny unsheathed her knife and sliced the man in the throat as she hopped past him. The wound ensured that he couldn't make even a sound. He'd dropped dead nearly instantly from the trauma alone.

A second guard in the power room did not last much longer. The moment he turned to check what the commotion was, Bunny had already flipped her knife at him. The blade had gone deep into his eye socket, hitting the brain. The second guard fell on his knees, and before he fell over, Bunny pulled her knife out and wiped it on her thigh before sheathing it in short order.

Things were beginning to seem familiar to Bunny, especially when her memory of every event was so perfect. Her previous warehouse mission had a transformer too, and it had a huge breaker switch so similar to the current one that she wondered if machines could have families too. However, with no time to waste, she flipped it, plunging the entire warehouse into darkness.

This time, however, it wasn't total darkness. Coming out of the eastern rooms the way she entered, she could still see well enough without her night vision goggles. Sunlight, dim as it was from the late winter clouds, was still flooding in from windows and skylights. But now there were shadows everywhere, ideal for a little game of hide-and-seek.

As men were shouting orders and yelling into the void for answers, Bunny began laying down her traps: claymore charges rigged to explode on the tug of a string. She was running circles around the remaining bad guys before they could even reorganize themselves.

After positioning herself for the offensive, she began firing upon one search party, who fired back based on the direction of the noise she was making. Bunny was hardly flinching when bullets struck her everywhere, while men were dying left and right or getting wounded. Soon enough, they began running away - right into her claymore trap, which blew them up to little bits and pieces.

Without wasting any more time, Bunny made the jump on Angelo the Frank's group, tossing them a flashbang before raining bullets down on them. By the time the dust cleared, the only people still standing were hiding behind shelves and tables. On using her x-ray vision, she could see four of them: Angelo the Frank, who was clutching his wounded side, one of his remaining made men and the cops who were working for him.

It was at this time that Bunny and Angelo made eye contact for the first time. They didn't just exchange looks. They were exchanging hatred.

"What are you waiting for!? Get her!" Angelo the Frank ordered his remaining subordinates in a cracked, slimy voice. Sensing little choice, they rushed forward, firing their guns only to get mowed down. All the while, Angelo had remained behind. Bunny had thought that he was being a scaredy-cat at first, but then she saw the syringe in his hand. It was the same kind of stuff General Blackwater and Rook warned her about.

He'd injected it into himself before she could react, and before she knew it, his eyes had turned red and his muscles bulked up in an instant. With just a nudge, he'd sent a warehouse shelf down on her. Bunny was barely able to get out of the way of the falling shelf, and while she was busy with that, Angelo had unloaded his twin machine pistols on her; with his enhanced strength, the recoil meant nothing to him, and so all his bullets hit home, and Bunny was knocked off her feet from the force of almost a hundred bullets.

The pain was nearly unbearable. Dizzy and sick from the pain, it felt as if she could blackout at any moment. But the urgency of battle hadn't left her yet. Getting up as quickly as she could, she reloaded her modded MP5 and pointed it downrange as quickly as she could, only to find that Angelo had rushed up to her. Before she could fire her submachinegun, he kicked it out of the way before pistol-whipping her multiple times over the head; it was the first time she'd felt this sort of pain, and it was something beyond General Blackwater's merciful torture session.

Angelo the Frank didn't stop after that. He continued to smack her with his machine pistols, and Bunny could only do well to block them or take the hits when her arms failed her. Dozens of pistol whips later, Angelo's guns were broken, and so he tossed them away and slugged Bunny a few times in the face before picking her up by her neck.

"You're going to pay for fucking up my men!" the mob boss snarled at her as he pressed his face closer to her. Their eyes met again. Bunny could feel his hands going up to her face, clutching her face so tightly, it was impossible. How did a normal human being gain this much strength, even if it was through His Secret 2.0?

"Your eyes! Your pretty purple bug eyes! I want them!" Angelo shouted deliriously; he was under the influence of an enigmatic drug unknown to science, after all. Bunny was weakened. Her hands had gone up to Angelo the Frank's wrists, but for all her tonnes-strong muscles, she couldn't break the grip. She struggled and cried, and screamed when she felt his fingers going into her eyes, pressing into the eyeball that it felt as if it could burst any second.

Which was when it happened. Her eyes had emitted something, and it'd burned right through Angelo's. Some kind of purple beam; she'd seen her vision go purple in the meantime. She had seen videos of her sisters doing the same thing, but intentionally and confidently.

Bunny didn't stop emitting the purple beam, not that she knew how to, but it was all within the space of seconds, max. When Bunny had finally stopped firing the purple beam, all that was left of Angelo's face were two cauterized holes where his eyes were - and those holes had gone all the way through the man's head, slightly intersecting, looking somewhat like the silhouette of the infinity sign.

It was as if Angelo's body hadn't realized that it no longer had a face. But soon after this, with a sigh, Angelo fell on top of Bunny. It wasn't for the lack of strength that Bunny did not push him off herself. That insane moment, that surreal moment when she fired that purple beam from her eyes was still replaying itself like a rewound tape in her mind.

There were other distant explosions; other claymore traps she had set up were going off as panicking men who had lost their leadership was searching for a way out. There was another distant explosion, the sound of metal breaking and bending, gates being thrown open. Bunny could recognize it as something that wasn't her design. Someone else was entering the fray. She knew from the battle plans that it was General Blackwater's men. Captain Brian 'Brick' Griffin had been assigned to mop up any remaining resistance and arrest anyone who was still alive.

But she remained fixated on that moment she had fired her own beam with her eyes, unable to shake herself awake from that magical moment, when she was both afraid and emboldened when it felt both nightmarish and dream-like.

"Are you okay, Bunny?" a voice finally broke her trance. A male voice, deep and inquisitive and brimming with authority. She thought it was General Blackwater at first, but when she focused her eyes, she saw someone else. Captain Brian 'Brick' Griffin was staring down at her. He then bent down and pulled Angelo the Frank's corpse away from her. He extended a hand, and she took it. With strength she didn't expect from a normal human being, Brian pulled her up. "The general will want to know."

He'd said it without any emotions, without any passion. Bunny knew a long time ago that not everyone was fond of her.

"I'm fine…" Bunny said. But Captain Brick was looking at her funnily.

"There's something coming out of your nose," he said as he pointed at his own. Bunny's hand went up to her nostrils, instinctively mirroring the USDO captain. At the same time, she could feel something liquid snaking out of it. She wiped it away and saw blood on her fingers.

"Are you sure you're okay?" the USDO officer asked again.

"I'm fine, mister. I… I don't think it's mine," Bunny said even though she wasn't sure at all. No, she was pretty sure the blood was hers. Angelo's wounds were cauterized by her beam - though whatever energy it consisted of, she had no idea. But why was she bleeding from her nose? And in greater amounts than before?

In the end, Bunny thought that it might have been caused by Angelo pistol-whipping her before he got his final facial therapy done. He was high on His Secret 2.0 and stronger as a result. That seemed to make sense at first, but…

Something wasn't quite adding up.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 2131.**

"How do you feel about the entire operation, Bunny?" Alice asked as she wrote something on a paper on her clipboard. Bunny couldn't help but feel as though Alice was trying to uncover her secrets and judge her. But her demeanor, the reassuring tone of her voice and the grandmother-like look of Alice, even though she was far from that age, put her at ease.

"I... don't know," Bunny said, and this time, it was hard for her words to come out. "I'm protecting my family, so I'm happy I did it."

"You don't look happy," Alice said. She had been observing Bunny closely while she was answering her question. Her shifty body language and her facial expression told an entirely different story. To Bunny, how Alice knew might as well be a magical trick. Though she knew something about human expressions from Dad, and how they translate to intelligence she could use from General Blackwater, she wasn't as aware of herself as others.

In the end, Bunny couldn't say no to trusting Alice, especially considering that Dad had already put in a good word for her.

"I hate it," Bunny said. "I sound stupid, don't I? I said I was happy and now I said I hate it." Alice had a different idea in mind. Bunny's mental development had exceeded her expectations. Professor Utonium mentioned her Chemical X2 enhancement as a possible catalyst for accelerated development in Bunny, but Doctor Alice had a different idea. Sure, Chemical X2 might have given her high IQ, accelerated thought processes and photographic memory, but her environment had played a huge part as well. Her exposure to harsh training and the reality of law enforcement might have forced her to grow up incredibly fast.

"How you feel about the operation might sound confusing, but it's normal, Bunny," Alice went on to say. "Things are rarely so simple. Why do you hate the operation?"

"I don't like to kill. I hate seeing the blood and I hate that-" Bunny explained, but stopped briefly to take a deep breath as she felt herself losing control of her emotions. "Some of the people I killed… Didn't look like bad guys. I don't think some of them are. The police officers the other day-"

Bunny stopped herself immediately, realizing that she had almost divulged classified information - and General Blackwater had specifically mentioned not to reveal such information even to other USDO personnel barring he and a few men he'd whitelisted, including Rook. Alice wasn't on that list.

"What about the police officers? Which day are you exactly talking about?" Alice pressed on, determined to burrow as deep into the rabbit hole as she could manage, and in the process help Bunny. The professor had mentioned that Bunny had revealed nothing about her activities outside The House and it was worrying him. It presented a lot of ground to cover, lots of potential for repressed emotions and unresolved trauma. "If you would tell a friend like me… I'm sure it would make you feel much better."

"I don't want to talk about it…" Bunny came up with any excuse she could grasp at.

"It looks like it's hurting you on the inside, Bunny. It'll help if you talk about it. That's what I'm here for-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" Bunny yelled at her all of a sudden, slamming her fist on the sofa, shocking Alice.

"B-Bunny, calm down…" Alice said, backing off. The last thing she needed was another Buttercup.

"I'm sorry…" Bunny apologized, sobbing. Despite feeling apprehensive about it, Alice reached out to her, taking her hand. It felt so stiff, and she saw Bunny stiffening up. She could only guess that her past experience with police officers was traumatic in some way, though what it was exactly about was an open question. "I'm so sorry…"

"No, Bunny. I shouldn't have pushed you too hard," Alice said; she couldn't bear the thought of Bunny taking the blame for the session going south. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"Now… How about you eat your carrots?" Alice said candidly, hoping that it would alleviate the tension between them.


	100. Chapter 94: A Long Time Coming

**Chapter 94: A Long Time Coming**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 2133.**

"Is there anything else you would like to add about the operation at the warehouse?" Alice asked in the sweetest tone she could manage. A single outburst from Bunny was more than enough as a warning sign that things could turn upside down at any time - literally. Even the smart and normally nice and calm Blossom was prone to turning the office into a disaster zone. Kids were kids, even those that could fry a dozen men just by looking at them or turn over a truck with minimal effort.

"No…" Bunny muttered as she nibbled away at her gummy carrot, taking tiny bites out of it with her crooked teeth. It wasn't food to her, nor tidbit. It was as if biting into it helped with the distress she was feeling. She then stopped after that, before looking up at Alice. "Did Bunny do good?"

The look on Bunny's face was palpable; There were so many negative emotions running through her mind. Had she been a normal little girl instead of an enhanced human pressed into service as a black ops assassin, Alice would have had her committed to a mental institute for treatment.

"Yes, Bunny did great," Alice nodded. She picked up a third piece of gummy carrot from her bowl and handed it to Bunny. The enhanced little girl took it meekly. It was unbelievable how gentle her little hands were when she could have crushed her hand to a pulp with almost no effort. "Now how about if we talk about something more… positive?"

"Like what?" Bunny mumbled as she was chewing on her previous gummy carrot, the one she had been nibbling on. Alice thought it was an improvement, considering she had noticed Bunny's tendency to avoid food when she was in a negative mood. All the Girls, except Buttercup, had this problem.

"I think it'd help if we talk about… hobbies," Alice said, adding an air of mystery to the word of the day. "Do you know what hobbies are, Bunny?"

"It's things people do when they're free?" Bunny said.

"Very good, little rabbit. To add, we have hobbies because we want them. Hobbies are stuff we do for fun," Alice explained. "Where did you learn that word from?"

"Miss Nana told me about hobbies when I was with her," Bunny said, catching Alice off-guard. The psychiatrist would have thought that Professor Utonium would have been the one to teach her about hobbies. But it made sense. Alice had read the reports on Bunny. General Blackwater and a soldier named Corporal Nana Weston had spent an inordinate amount of time with her, effectively inserting themselves as additional parental figures in Bunny's life. Alice had concluded that it was Blackwater's method of getting Bunny to imprint herself on him, allowing him to control her, and it worked. It worked too damn well. "She had her own hobbies before she became a soldier. She was a ballet dancer and a singer."

"That's great! I think I've met Nana Weston before. She's a great lass. I'm glad you met her," Alice said, making it obvious what her age was, and how she was almost twice Nana's age. Though Bunny did not quite catch it because of her naivete, she at least got the part where Alice was senior to Nana. "I don't know how she got into the USDO last year, but yes, she's a very talented kid. She would've been a celebrity if she didn't get it into her head to be a soldier."

"She's really nice to me when so many people are mean to me. She never said a mean word to me and I don't remember her hitting me before too," Bunny said, her eyes distant as if she could see Nana right at that moment, her eyes watery. "She's just like Daddy."

Alice smiled. It was a moment she'd been waiting for, all this while. She'd set Bunny up for something good, something she could reach for on her own, and she had done it. Alice reached out and took Bunny's hands into her own.

"You've done it, Bunny," Alice said. "Remember this moment whenever you find yourself in a dark place. Remember Nana Weston, remember your Dad, and anyone else you love. Go back to your fond memories and don't let the darkness drown them. I don't know how long you'll have to operate, but it'd make things easier for you. Perhaps one day, when this is all over-"

"Will it really be?" Bunny couldn't help but ask.

"Yes. Everything has an end," Alice encouraged her. Bunny smiled too, and held Alice's hands too, reciprocating.

"May I remember you too?" Bunny asked, quite unexpectedly, taking Alice by surprise.

"Yes, you can! I'm flattered I've made an impression on you in such a short time," Alice said, her smile widening.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you before. I didn't mean it," Bunny said, becoming morose once more.

"It's perfectly fine. People yell at me all the time - I'm used to it," Alice reassured the distraught Bunny.

"People… yell at you all the time?" Bunny said, unable to believe that people could be so mean to such a nice woman.

"It's part of my job, talking to people. I dig out something that hurts them so I can finally stop the pain forever, but it can be so painful that I get lashed at," Alice said. "You're not the first person to do it, and you won't be the last."

"I'm sorry I did it. I won't do it again," Bunny promised Alice, her eyes firmly fixed on Alice's.

"You don't have to be so apologetic, Bunny," Alice said with a laugh. "It's my job to get yelled at anyway - sometimes, it really helps to get things off your chest."

"Okay…" Bunny fell silent after that, and so Alice returned to her clipboard, scribbling notes that Bunny could only guess at. Even with her x-ray vision, she couldn't tell what was being written by looking through the clipboard and pages of paper.

"Speaking of getting things off your chest - the warehouse wasn't your only operation today," Alice said. "Would you like to talk about your second operation?"

Bunny thought back to the second operation of the day. The operation had taken place after the first one at Quickdrop Warehousing Co. The moment she was reminded of it, she could feel the blood draining from her face, from her hands.

"No…" Bunny said. "I can't."

Alice understood immediately what she meant. Even to ask Bunny about it was a huge risk she was taking. Bunny had, in fact, protected her from certain consequences. Had General Blackwater found out that she had been trying to gather classified information from Bunny, he might have something in store for her that would make her wish she was never born. The worse part was, there would have been consequences for Bunny, too.

"I see," the psychiatrist said. "In that case, I guess we're done for the day. It's been nice talking to you, Bunny Utonium. I look forward to our next session this coming Wednesday."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Gangrene Gulag. Abandoned Villa.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1803.**

The world had gone dark early; winter still held sway even as it approached death as an old man would. Bunny found herself in a part of Townsville she would never have suspect existed. After her successful purge of Townsville's homegrown American Mafia's leadership, General Blackwater had ordered Bunny to move towards the slums, then to its worse-off neighbor, the so-named 'Gangrene Gulag'.

There was no other place in Townsville that could top the Gangrene Gulag when it came to misery.

Chief of Intelligence Rook had described the place in arduous detail during debriefing back at the Townsville docks. Where the slums were where the poor lived in, the Gangrene Gulag was where the utterly desperate eke out an existence. The people there were barely living, surviving on what little food they could find. Where the slums still had soup kitchens and homeless shelters operating in cramped conditions between barely-functional housing, the Gangrene Gulag was largely abandoned in terror by even the most idealistic charity organizations. While the police would occasionally risk venturing into the slums, the Gangreen Gulag was completely abandoned by the local government. Where the denizens of the slums took care of their own where the police were unavailable, the inhabitants of the Gangreen Gulag rarely do so.

And it was in one of those pockets of civilization where people still do that Bunny was ordered into. There was a huge, abandoned villa on the eastern end of the Gangrene Gulag. It was an old residence that had existed since the turn of the century, built back when the Gangrene Gulag was like Old Town, rich and full of culture and tradition. The owner was gone the moment it became obvious that the district was falling into ruin from the escalating crime since decades ago.

Now, the abandoned villa was home to a notorious gang, as Bunny had been told. While most of the inhabitants were guilty of only minor crimes such as petty theft, burglary, battery and public nuisance, five of them formed the center of the gang, who, despite being the de facto leadership of the gang, were usually the ones handling the biggest gigs, usually mercenary work, but they had recently conducted raids on Townsville proper, intercepting armored trucks, carrying out heists and aggravated burglary.

All Bunny needed to know was that the Gangreen Gang (appropriately named since they came from the area) had run-ins with her sisters before, resulting in Blossom getting severely injured last Christmas and Bubbles wounded mere days before she was born. General Blackwater had made sure to tell her this fact, and it had made Bunny bloodthirsty.

The moment Bunny was within range after taking a turn from a nearby alley, she raised her MP5 and opened fire on a man-woman couple guarding the entrance. They were punks in torn leather jackets and jeans, barely adults. And they were killed instantly.

There was no panic on the streets (which barely qualified as such), as crime was rampant there, and there wasn't even anyone on the streets. The few houses that were occupied in the area immediately had their windows and doors shut and barred as soon as there were gunshots.

Bunny sprinted through the empty doorway and right into the courtyard of the villa. There were several campfires at the courtyard, the wood bought by stolen money. Men, women and even children rose up from the fire when they saw the purple menace come through. Some of them - even the children - had guns, mostly ancient revolvers, and bolt-action rifles and old shotguns, but they were barely able to raise them when an explosion blew up one group - Bunny had thrown a frag grenade at them the moment she came through. She gunned down the rest of them, leaving no one alive, not men, not women, not even the children.

Darting into the building, busting down the front door in the process, she fired off shots indiscriminately, putting down anyone who happened to be in the way. Few shots were fired at her. The living room had another family who was huddled around a broken television with a fire in it. She killed them all first, and when the three guards there rose up to point their barely-functional firearms at her, she reloaded her MP5 almost instantaneously and exchanged shots at them. She was the only one left standing.

There were shouts of panic everywhere in the villa. It was only at this time when Bunny had to take in her surroundings for just a second, that she realized how filthy the villa was; it was filled with rubbish, ash and rats scurrying for the nearest hole. The smell was terrible. It was no place even for a criminal gang. Her rage precluded any further thoughts on the matter.

Running deeper into the building, she mowed down several gang members armed with old pistols and revolvers coming her way, her unpowered armor soaking up bullets before she opened the next door she came across. It turned out to be a bedroom, though it was barely recognizable as such. The moment she realized there was a man, woman, three children and several guards inside, she unpinned and primed another frag grenade and threw it in. Blocking the entrance, Bunny waited and while she did, she heard men, women, and children screaming inside, followed by an explosion. She opened the door after that. The room was painted in red, even a lit light bulb that the frag grenade had miraculously missed. Dead bodies and their severed limbs were all over the place. One man, another guard in a shredded leather jacket, moaned. Bunny aimed her MP5 at his head and fired, putting him out of his misery.

Continuing down the corridor, Bunny dispatched a few more gang members coming her way. There was a turn in the corridor, but before she could make that turn, someone else did it first, someone with a katana, and he swung the sword at her on the get-go, putting a deep notch in her armor as she backed away.

It was only after she put some distance between her and her new assailant that she recognized the man. Tall but thin, the man had green skin. He wore tan pants, black boots, a blue-orange trucker jacket over a white shirt, but the most prominent part of his attire was his angular shades. He had dressed down this time; the photos of him Bunny had seen was of him in mercenary combat gear.

"You! You ain't leaving here alive for busting up my place and folks!" He screamed bloody murder as he charged forward. Bunny had raised her MP5 too late as the green-skinned man - Ace was his name from the briefing - chopped it into two. Dropping her drastically shortened submachinegun, Bunny crossed her forearms when Ace swung his sword down on her once more. The kevlar on her forearms had caught the blade, but the sword had penetrated the armor. She shoved him away, only for the lanky man to swing his sword again, screaming in pure rage.

He'd managed several more well-directed sword-strikes, but Bunny had continued to use her armored forearms to block the attacks. Deep cuts were being put into the armor until there was blood. Then ace went for a fully wound-up swing-

But this time, Bunny had caught Ace by the fists. For a time, they were caught in a status quo, with Ace pushing his blade towards Bunny and Bunny pushing it away. However, it was broken when Bunny was able to push his blade further and further back using pure, brute force, before giving him a flying knee in the stomach, which sent him flying backward into the wall. He bounced off the wall, making a crater in it, before landing on the rotten wooden floor.

Ace got up as Bunny dashed towards him. In one fluid motion, he was able to swing his sword as he got into a half-kneel, but Bunny had kicked him in the stomach at the same time. It was like as if two magnets were repelling each other; Bunny stumbled back, clutching her chest, while Ace had gone through the weakened wall behind him.

"Leave him alone, you punk!" an old voice shouted, as if with what remaining energy it had. Bunny turned to look in the direction of the voice. There were rapid footsteps. Instinctively, Bunny's hand had gone to her pistol holster, drawing the weapon quickly and firing from the hip. Her superior hand-eye coordination made sure she was on the target…

And that target happened to be an old, bearded man in his seventies, wielding a katana. The old man fell and slide right up to Bunny, blood pooling. There was no way he could have survived that, as Bunny had fired several shots, and those shots had gone right through the old man's heart. Still, he continued to gasp and gurgle, and eventually, fall silent.

However, the old man had bought Ace some time. Jumping through the hole he was thrown through, Ace was going for a downward strike with his sword when Bunny noticed and struck him in the chin with an uppercut, sending him up into the ceiling, destabilizing the floor above. Rubble rained down on the three of them as Ace fell, crushing whatever remained of the wall he jumped through.

It was as if Ace's entire body was on fire. He twitched his fingers, only to realize that he had lost grip on his sword. Looking around, however, he saw that it wasn't far away. He reached for it, but Bunny had been watching him. She stomped on his hand and picked up his Duranium katana instead. With that, she gave him another kick in the face, breaking his angular shades.

"This is Bravo-Fifty. Primary Echo-Tango eliminated," Bunny spoke into her radio before driving the sword down Ace's back. The green-skinned man screamed before falling silent. Satisfied, Bunny reached for his scabbard and pulled it off, wearing it on her own belt. It was a little awkward, considering the size of the thing; it was like wearing the scabbard of a greatsword as she was small. She scampered off after that, determined to wreak even more havoc with her new weapon.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Gangrene Gulag. Abandoned Villa.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1814.**

When Ace came to, his mind was a haze, and for a time, he couldn't remember what had transpired before. It all came back to him slowly, but with each bit of memory, he slowly began to realize how dire things had become. Yes, it was all coming back to him now! The Gangreen Gang was out doing chores - scrounging for fuel for the fire, buying food and water, scavenging materials for making stuff - only he alone remained behind to deter any intruders. He was patrolling the walls around the villa when it happened: the screams, the explosions, the gunshots. They were attacked, he tried to defend his people, and now he had failed.

Looking ahead, Ace saw a dead body before him. It had a shrunken stature, a wrinkled face, and a beard. He knew who it was immediately, but the reality of it did not sink in as willingly. He didn't want to believe it; memories of the old man flashed before his eyes. Tears stung it.

"SENSEI! No, no, no! NOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, crying, horrified.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Gangrene Gulag. Abandoned Villa.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1817.**

How long Ace stared at the corpse, he did not know. Screams deep in the villa jolted him awake. His old teacher was dead - the same man who had taken him in when something, or someone, had turned him into a freak, was dead.

But his duty was to his village, and they were getting slaughtered by some kind of enhanced being like him. He rolled over on his back. Pain sprung up all over his body. He saw the mess on his chest. He felt his very core pierced. His heart ached, literally and figuratively. It was a miracle he survived with so much blood all around him; he'd chalked it down to his monster form.

There was no way he could save his people now, and the rest of his gang wouldn't be back until a couple of hours later. He closed his eyes, but tears came through regardless. He had never felt so helpless before. All his efforts to preserve what was essentially his family in this God-forsaken mess called the Gangrene Gulag had been for nothing.

Unless…

It would be like making a deal with the devil, but he had no choice. It was a longshot, but it was the only shot he had left. Reaching for a pocket in his orange-blue trucker jacket, Ace pulled out his trusty satellite phone. It was a miracle it was still functional, despite the cracked plastic hull. He punched in a number, his finger shaking in panic and pain, and held the phone up to his face. The phone beeped, thankfully. But the distortion in the beep told him that his phone might die on him anytime.

He had learned of the number from his connections in the Townsville Police Department. Police Chief Feig of Precinct 77 had provided it. Apparently, he had learned of it through an informant in the USDO itself.

"Hello? Who is this?" It took forever, but a young, female voice finally came through. It sounded sad, like the person on the other end was grieving, even.

"Blossom, it's me! Ace!" he shouted through the phone.

"How did you call me through this phone?" Blossom asked, confused.

"Please, I need your help! For your ol' pal!?" Ace pleaded over the phone.

"I'm not listening to you, Ace!" Blossom retorted. "You tried to kill Bubbles the last time!"

"But-"

"And you were stealing! You killed those men in that big truck! What if they were someone's daddy!?" Ace could hear Blossom going off on him through the phone. Whatever sliver of hope he had left had slipped away. His past had come back to haunt him, big time.

"Blossom-"

"No! You said you hate me! You called me names and said bad things about me! I feel stupid for thinking we were friends!" Blossom continued yelling through the phone. Ace remembered every word he'd said to Blossom on that day. They were sincere words, if tactless, and he was paying the price for it now. No, his friends were paying the price for it.

"Blossom, please! My friends are dying!" Ace made one final, hopeful push for help. But instead of coming around like what Ace hoped Blossom would do, there was only silence, before the sound of the phone being hung up. "Blossom-"

From then on, the only thing Ace could do was lie down where he was and listen to his village in the villa die screaming. It was no comfort, when eventually, there were fewer screams, coming from further away…

Until there was no more.

Ace squeezed his phone in anger and disgust as he was lying down there, immobilized still. How could she? How could Blossom do this to him? For all the claim the world had made that she was the very paragon of justice and law, Blossom had ignored him in his greatest time of need! Sure, they were at odds with each other, but couldn't she have understood that times were desperate, and she stood in the way of feeding an entire village of desperate souls?

"Blossom!" Ace snarled. "On the deathbed of my dead family… I swear revenge! You ain't seen nothing yet!"

He'd squeezed his satellite phone so hard that it broke in two, its electronic innards spilling out like the guts of a small animal. He dragged himself up to the wall, leaning himself against it as he looked at his dead sensei one more time. "And you, purple freak, whatever you are, I'm getting you too!"

By the time Bunny was time clearing out the abandoned villa, she was covered in blood, so much blood that she couldn't tell if any of it was hers. Her nose did itch, however, but after she sneezed, the feeling was gone. She wiped her face, but it was still slick with blood. Looking at her hand, she saw that, it, too, was covered in blood.

But it was over. The tears could come later. For now, there was a debriefing to attend.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**04 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 2135.**

"Bunny?" Alice had to call out to her several times before she could regain the enhanced little girl's attention. "Bunny!"

"Hmm?" Bunny turned to look at Alice. She had let her mind wander back to her second operation when she had killed the children and the unarmed by the dozens. Sure, some of the children were actually armed and she had to silence everyone in the area to preserve her status as a secret weapon and hide USDO involvement, but as a kid running on emotions and not logic, Bunny found it impossible to reconcile with her gut reactions to what she had to do. She felt utterly dirty, irredeemably evil. Her guilt was like a part of her body, impossible to shake away.

"Did you hear what I just said?" Alice asked and Bunny shook her head. The woman smiled kindly before giving her a squeeze in the shoulder and standing up. "Nevermind. Just… take care of yourself. I'll see you again soon."

She began packing hastily before leaving the room. Even though Bunny did not follow and had opted to stay in the professor's office, she could hear Alice speaking to her Dad using her enhanced hearing. It was then that she learned to trust Alice, for what it was worth since the psychiatrist had revealed not a word of her confessions to her Dad. Instead, she'd gone straight to her psychiatric report and advice.

Seconds ticked by, and Bunny could hear the professor's distinctive footsteps echoing in The House outside the office. She heard the door open. Getting off the couch, Bunny padded up to her Dad and hugged him tightly, rubbing her face in his lab coat.

"Hey there, little rabbit!" the professor laughed as he hugged Bunny back, running his hand affectionately down her hair. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Bunny cried. "I just miss you, that's all. It was nice meeting Alice."

"See? I told you you'll like her," the professor said.

"Dad…" Bunny said. "There's something I want to tell you."

"It's not about what you want for your birthday, is it?" the professor joked. Bunny did not laugh, nor did she go on. "What is it, sweetie? Hey… You can talk to me about anything…"

"Nothing…" Bunny said, deciding against telling him anything about her activities outside. It was like taking a sledgehammer to the chest, but it was a decision she had to make. "It's just that… I love you, Daddy."

"Aw, isn't that sweet?" the professor praised Bunny, before gently pulling her off him. He began leading her out of the office and towards the living room. "Now how about we get ready for bed? I'll be reading you and your sisters a story about Jack and the Beanstalk…"


	101. Chapter 95: Truth

**Chapter 95: Truth**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**05 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 0021.**

Sneaking through the airlock leading down to the labs, Buttercup floated down the stairs and into the labs. The lights were all switched off, but it didn't matter. Her eyes lit up when it became too dark and she began navigating her way to the professor's desk.

Dad had always told Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup not to touch his stuff down in the labs, and his warnings applied to everything, right down to the bookstands on his desk. The reason why Buttercup had obeyed him wasn't because of love or fear, but simply because she had no interest in whatever stuff he had down in the labs. Where Blossom was always fascinated by the various scientific instruments, computers, and experiments, Buttercup couldn't care less, preferring to spend her time looking forward to the next time she got to fight crime. At the very least, she would play with her toys to imitate those times, with or without her sisters.

Now, Buttercup had every reason to disobey Dad, and no reasons left to obey him. She knew that Dad had been lying to her, and everything that made life interesting for her had been taken away.

Coming up to the desk, Buttercup opened the top drawer. She had always seen Dad slipping things into it. It had aroused curiosity in her but briefly. She was always distracted by something else after that.

It became clear why Dad had been so secretive and evasive about his belongings in the lab the moment she opened that drawer. The first thing she saw was a framed photo of a much younger Professor Utonium hugging a woman who was decidedly not Selicia Goodwin. In his other arm was a girl who resembled Blossom, but Buttercup could easily tell that the little girl wasn't her Powerpuff rival. The plain eyes and brown bow gave it all away.

Placing the framed photo on the surface of the desk, she began going through the documents underneath. The latest one was dated today. Buttercup had been hard at work learning how to read, and though she couldn't understand half of what was written, it was just enough for her to understand the implications of it…

* * *

**B-50 W2 Report**

**DOC: 05 MAR (Sunday) 1989.**

**Created by: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Full Review of B-50 Capabilities**

Despite working alone as a one-girl army and possessing far less experience than Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, Bunny had been able to perform far better than them. While I have no data from the battlefield to support this, I have medical data to do so. She has, thus far, sustained very few injuries, and the superficial injuries she sustained had healed incredibly quickly. Where it takes Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup half a day to fully convalesce from superficial injuries, Bunny took only approximately 3 hours to do so.

I have been rigorous in my medical examination of her. She shows no anomaly in her body so far, and she has not complained of any irregularities with her bodies nor any kind of sickness. Scans of her internal organs and bones show nothing out of the ordinary - and by ordinary, I meant the new normal as expected of enhanced individuals.

Bunny returned from duty today, on 05 MAR 1989, with news that she had discovered some new abilities. After a quick dinner, I had conducted some simple experiments to ascertain her claims. The most dramatic of her acquisitions was her new ability to shoot some kind of 'purple beam', as she described it. Below is a quick snapshot of the results I have been able to obtain:

Targets used: 250lbs Steel Weights

**Target 1 - 5 yards**

Note: Target 1 has been used multiple times for the purpose of identifying the type of energy emitted by Bunny. Readings are as followed:

Thermographic imaging shows a negligible increase in temperature from 59°F to 134°F

Geiger counter reads a minor increase in radiation, barely any uptick. Radiation is neither lethal nor harmful.

A testing circuit is attached to the steel weight to measure any electrical current and voltage. Industrial ammeter and voltmeter were unresponsive. Electrical failure has been ruled out as a possible cause.

A lux meter set up nearby registers Bunny's 'purple beam' to be in the range of 1000 - 1200 lux. The reading is inconsistent, so an exact figure is impossible to obtain.

The steel weight itself has been cut by the purple beam.

Comparing Bunny's results with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, I was able to conclude that Bunny's 'purple beam' was actually a laser beam, like Buttercup's, except stronger. Stress testing shows that it is about 25% stronger, based on my calculations, which will be attached in the addendum for your inspection.

**Target 2 - 20 yards**

Note: the target has been completely penetrated by Bunny's laser sight with only a negligible decrease in performance. It took just 0.3 seconds longer.

**Target 3 - 30 yards**

Note: Negligible decrease in performance. 0.5 seconds longer.

**Target 4 - 40 yards**

Note: 0.6 seconds longer.

**Target 5 - 55 yards**

Note: 0.83 seconds longer.

Conclusion: Further testing is required. However, suffice to say, Bunny's laser beam does not lose much energy over long distances. This is expected, as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's infrared beam, ion beam, and laser beam do not lose much energy over long distances either. As with the older Girls, Bunny's laser beam will be useful as a tool and, in a last resort situation, as a weapon, with ranges equivalent to submachineguns and rifles, perhaps even sniper rifles.

Laser beams are not the only new powers Bunny has discovered. She spoke about being able to see through things and hear things from far away. I have applied the 'X-Ray Vision Blinder Test' for her claims of having x-ray vision and confirmed it. Furthermore, I have ascertained that Bunny's x-ray vision ability is stronger than Blossom's. Where Blossom's x-ray ability could penetrate only 5 half-inch-thick steel panels with months of experience and training, Bunny was able to see through 6 such steel panels without much of the experience and training Blossom had gone through.

Bunny's claims of extra-sensitive hearing have been put to the test in the 'Hearing Acuity Test'. She was able to hear from inside a car, with astounding clarity, everything I said in the test, despite the decrease in volume over time from 70dB to 10dB. Sounds at 1dB or below were described as 'soft' by Bunny. Only the complete cessation of sound had rendered the surroundings 'silent'. A second set of tests was conducted outside The House. Below is a quick snapshot of the results:

* * *

**Legend**

**Double Positive: Subject is able to hear AND discern the individual words and syllables (where applicable)**

**Positive: Subject is able to hear the sound**

**Negative: Subject is unable to hear the sound**

**1 yard (control test)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Double Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Double Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Double Positive (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Double Positive (Soft whispers)

10dB: Positive (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Positive (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Positive (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

Note: Test repeated with Sergeant Selicia Goodwin in a second control test. Selicia's hearing yielded negative results by the time the experiment reaches the 1dB phase of testing.

**50 yards (Bunny)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Double Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Double Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Double Positive (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Double Positive (Soft whispers)

10dB: Positive (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Positive (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Positive (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

Notes: This is astounding. In the previous Hearing Acuity Test, the distance is negligible. An increase in 49 yards in terms of distance from the sound did not diminish the results. Test repeated with Sergeant Selicia Goodwin. Results Below:

**50 yards (Sergeant Selicia Goodwin)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Negative (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Negative (Soft whispers)

10dB: Negative (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Negative (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Negative (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

Notes: This test proves that a normal human being, despite being trained to peak efficiency, is unable to discern speech at 50dB from 50 yards away, or even hear a sound at 30dB from 50 yards away.

**100 yards (Bunny)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Double Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Double Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Double Positive (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Double Positive (Soft whispers)

10dB: Positive (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Positive (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Positive (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

Notes: Bunny continues to astound me. She is able to understand individual words even at 100 yards even from a whisper.

**125 yards (Bunny)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Double Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Double Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Double Positive (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Positive (Soft whispers)

10dB: Positive (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Positive (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Negative (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

Notes: My hunch is right. Bunny's enhanced hearing begins to falter at 125 yards. Future experiments will determine the exact distance of reduction in accuracy of hearing.

**150 yards (Bunny)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Double Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Double Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Positive (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Positive (Soft whispers)

10dB: Positive (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Negative (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Negative (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

Notes: Whispering cannot be discerned from this distance at this point.

**175 yards (Bunny)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Double Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Positive (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Positive (Soft whispers)

10dB: Negative (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Negative (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Negative (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

**200 yards (Bunny)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Double Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Positive (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Negative (Soft whispers)

10dB: Negative (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Negative (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Negative (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

**225 yards (Bunny)**

70dB: Double Positive (Achieved with loudhailer)

60dB: Positive (Loud talking volume)

50dB: Positive (Normal talking volume)

40dB: Positive (Hushed talking volume)

30dB: Negative (Heavy whispers)

20dB: Negative (Soft whispers)

10dB: Negative (Heavy breathing)

1dB: Negative (Gentle breathing)

0.1dB: Negative (Pin drop)

0dB: Negative (None)

Conclusion: The following results were obtained in an ideal testing environment. There was no snowfall, and Captain Scott and his PTF guards were cooperative in helping to maintain a quiet environment. Her ability to hear things from afar may be reduced by loud noises and acoustically bad environments, but she will be able to hear noises far better than any human could - without using any form of technology. The applications of this are obvious in a combat setting.

More testing is required to explore her ability to hear. But there is one other thing I have observed. There are distortions in the air around her ears whenever she 'activates' her enhanced hearing ability. I believe Chemical X2 is being used to form a kind of 'air funnel' to improve her hearing. The conical shape of the distortion appears to support this hypothesis. Photos taken of the distortion have been attached in the addendum.

Her sense of hearing is by no means the only sense that has been enhanced. Her sight, like Blossom's, has received an upgrade as well. To investigate this further, I have put Bunny through the same Modified Eye Chart experiment that Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup, and Selicia had done. The results are astounding. To show why, I have put Blossom's old results and Bunny's results side-by-side together:

* * *

**Row 1 (20/200)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 2 (20/100)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 3 (20/70)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 4 (20/50)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 5 (20/40)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 6 (20/30)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 7 (20/25)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes. Fastest completion. No decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 8 (20/20)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes. Fastest completion. No decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 9 (20/15)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes. Fastest completion. No decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 10 (20/10)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes. Fastest completion. No decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes.

**Row 11 (20/5)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes. Fastest completion. Negligible decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes. No decrease in speed whatsoever.

Note: This is where Blossom begins to have difficulty reading the eye chart. Bunny, however, does not appear to be suffering from any difficulty.

**Row 12 (20/3)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes. Fastest completion. Negligible decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes. No decrease in speed whatsoever.

**Row 13 (20/2)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with no mistakes. Fastest completion. Slight decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes. No decrease in speed whatsoever.

**Row 14 (20/1)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with one mistake. Minor decrease in speed.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes. Negligible decrease in speed.

**Row 15 (20/0.7)**

B-47 (Blossom): Passed with three mistakes. Moderate decrease in speed. Shows strain.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes. Slight decrease in speed.

Notes: This is where Blossom's ability to see becomes limited. Bunny, however, continues to see remarkably well, with only minor difficulties in doing so.

**Row 16 (20/0.5)**

B-47 (Blossom): Failed with five mistakes. Significant decrease in speed. Shows strain.

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with no mistakes. Moderate decrease in speed. Shows strain.

Notes: This is the theoretical limit of Blossom's 'zoomed-in' vision, which is established to be able to zoom up to about x40 normal vision. Bunny, despite sweating through the exercise, has been able to get all the words right.

**Row 16 (20/0.3)**

B-47 (Blossom): N/A

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with two mistakes. Moderate decrease in speed. Shows strain.

Notes: Bunny continues to astound me. There is something else I noticed. Whenever Blossom used her enhanced sight, the luminescence of her eyes would increase by a perceptible level. There would be a displacement vortex forming right before her pupils that acts as an assembly of lenses, resulting in the 'zooming-in' effect. This effect is far more pronounced with Bunny the more she has to 'zoom-in' her sight beyond Blossom's theoretical limit. Her eyes were casting a purple glow on her form and desk, and the displacement vortex is clearly visible where it was barely visible with Blossom.

**Row 17 (20/0.2)**

B-47 (Blossom): N/A

B-50 (Bunny): Passed with three mistakes. Moderate decrease in speed. Shows strain.

Notes: This is close to Bunny's vision limit. However, she is stubbornly fast while filling up her vision test form, and the number of mistakes leads me to wonder if the increase is just a fluke.

**Row 18 (20/0.1)**

B-47 (Blossom): N/A

B-50 (Bunny): Failed with five mistakes. Significant decrease in speed. Shows immense strain.

Notes: We have finally hit the theoretical limit of Bunny's zoom vision. This means that she could 'zoom-in' her vision by an amazing x200 times normal vision! Had she gone further by just one more step, she would be seeing bacteria clearly on her desk!

Conclusion: The results speak for themselves, and the application of this is endless. Bunny mentioned that she had never pushed herself this hard when it comes to 'zooming in' her vision. Armed with this knowledge, she will be able to perform reconnaissance better; something a mile away might as well be a few yards in front of her with her enhanced sight. Her enhanced sight may also be applied as a makeshift microscope. While it may not pick up bacteria very well, things like fingerprints and tiny globules of blood in a crime scene will not go unnoticed with Bunny around.

While I was preparing Chemical X2 for the creation of Bunny, going through the motions as I experimented on guinea pigs to ensure its safety, I never would have imagined that this is what Bunny will become. I estimated a 50% increase in effectiveness. Bunny has gone above and beyond that. I am getting the same feeling as when I accidentally created Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup and adopted them as my own. It is thrilling, to say the least-

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**05 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 0036.**

Buttercup had stopped reading by that paragraph. While she couldn't understand half of it, some words stuck out. 'Creation'. 'Accidentally created'. 'Adopted'. She clutched her head; it felt as if it was going to explode. Sinking to the ground, the energy drained out of her, she could sense something worming out of that silver lining in her brain. Emotions she never really felt deeply before.

'Dad' had always told them that they were his children. She remembered it like it was yesterday, the day 'Mom' came into The House and entered their lives for the first time, in her dress uniform with all its military decorations no less. 'Dad' told them that she was their mother, that the reason why she wasn't around in the first couple of weeks of their existence was that she was on assignment. She remembered 'Dad' mentioning that 'Mom' had given birth to them, that 'Mom' had also given birth to Bunny.

Buttercup knew what 'created' meant. It certainly wasn't 'giving birth'. She had asked Miss Keane about that word before. It was commonly used in class. A clay doll, a paper pinata, and artwork were created. People weren't. Did it mean that she was created as a clay doll would have been? It was a frightening thought to her. Not to mention, they were 'adopted' too. Buttercup knew that word well. Blossom and Bubbles had talked to 'Dad' about adopting a dog or a cat. The class had adopted a pet hamster not too long ago. Miss Keane had mentioned the word once. It meant taking in someone or something that didn't belong at first.

Everything was clicking together quickly. It was then that Buttercup understood 'Dad's obsession with experiments and tests and subjects and guinea pigs. She was 'created', and she wasn't 'normal'. She was an experiment, a test, a subject, and a guinea pig. And as if that wasn't enough, if Bunny's experimental test results were any indication, she wasn't any good now. Even Blossom couldn't catch up with her. Bunny had become 'Dad's new darling now, and Buttercup felt like she had been pushed away even further. Not that being third place was anything, to begin with.

Buttercup had always known that she was never truly a part of the family, not like how Blossom and Bubbles were. She'd found herself cast aside all the time, her unique needs unsatisfied. No matter how much she tried to prove herself, she was always last in line for 'Dad's attention. All she had found out now was the evidence for it.

Wiping a single tear from her left eye, Buttercup continued rooting through the drawer. There were more old notes and documents confirming her suspicions and revelations. It was all but clear to her now. Putting it all back, she walked away. It felt like she was in enemy territory now, but surprisingly, she felt nothing more than that. She was never satisfied for all the time she had spent in this 'family', never fulfilled. There was never anything for her - not then, and certainly not now.

Her goals were clear now. Should the opportunity present itself, she would just fly away and never look back. If only her new, powerful friend would just give her a sign...


	102. Inter-Agency Meeting 03051989 Transcript

**Reply to Guest (Previous Chapter): Yeah, it gotta happen eventually. It's only a matter of when...**

* * *

**USDO Inter-Agency Meeting 03051989 Transcript**

**DOC: 05 MAR (Sunday) 1989**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Director Cliff: What is the agenda today?

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: We have a delegation from the Townsville Police Department - two separate delegations, in fact.

Director Cliff: Is that right? This is going to be interesting.

General Blackwater: The TPD has never gotten their shit right, ever.

Doctor Vanum: We gotta give credit where it's due though. Some of them are heroes, and they've lasted this long so far.

General Blackwater: Pah! What do you know, egghead? As it stands, even an apocalypse can't root out a police department in the US. They'll just turn into something else. Something Un-American.

Director Cliff: Is there anything else, Liaisons?

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: Sir, the second delegation from the TPD is requesting to meet only after the first delegation has left the building.

Director Cliff: Departmental politics, I take it. That's really interesting. What else?

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: Yes. The mayor of Townsville, Mayor Wilford, has something to discuss. He has brought along his advisors and mayoral security.

Director Cliff: Any idea what they want?

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: It could be anything, sir. He might want to make more arrangements for law enforcement efforts in the city - it's always been about that. It might also be something to do with the celebration they're planning next weekend.

Director Cliff: Yes. That. Ill-advised. Thoroughly, incompetently ill-advised.

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: Better not let him hear that, sir.

Director Cliff: Right. Anything else?

Liaisons Head Yorkshire: The FBI and the CIA both want to meet the USDO, sir.

Director Cliff: (laughs) Looks like we're becoming celebrities! Let's get to work, then, people. Townsville isn't going to save itself.

(5 minutes passed. There is some banter in the background. The first TPD delegation passes through the door, which could be heard opening and closing. Greetings were exchanged.)

Police Chief Feig: So this is how the insides of the USDO headquarters look like!

Director Cliff: Let's get straight down to business, shall we? We're all busy people here.

Police Chief Feig: You got that right. It's Sunday and you people are still out working? I'm really busting my ass here just to put on my uniform on a Sunday and walk in here.

Director Cliff: What can we do for you, chief?

Police Chief Feig: It's your… urm… What do you call that? Powerpuff program - thing. I'm dissatisfied with the turn it's taken.

General Blackwater: Is that right? Even when we're mopping the floor with criminals you and your TPD couldn't handle in decades?

Police Chief Feig: That's all well and good, but I prefer the Powerpuff Girls - those kids, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup - doing the job rather than whatever else it is you've been putting out there.

General Blackwater: You mean our soldiers? They are hardly fancy, chief, but they are getting the job done.

Police Chief Feig: Soldiers? Don't think I don't know what you federal types are up to! The crime scene at the port - the evidence aren't exactly pointing to soldiers who're 'hardly fancy'. What have you people been whipping up? Another batch of weird psycho mutants?

Central Motorpool Officer Longshot: You have no right to interrogate the general, rusty copper!

Police Chief Feig: Back off!

Director Cliff: (sternly) Last I recall, you are here to discuss the partnership and cooperation between the USDO and TPD, Feig. I suggest that we not deviate from this agenda.

Police Chief Feig: Like I said, I want Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup on the case, not whatever else you're using.

Director Cliff: Why? Why the obsession with the Powerpuff Girls?

Police Chief Feig: Call it a tradition. A 'rusty copper's hunch. Call it… camaraderie if you will. We, as police officers in the TPD, prefer to work with people we trust. And we've come to trust the Powerpuff Girls. Isn't that what you want? Isn't that what you've been aiming for?

General Blackwater: Director sir, we are still… primed to use our current model of policing rather than the former. Switching back to using the Powerpuff Girls will hinder the strides we've made in improving our law enforcement protocols!

**(Note: General Blackwater was avoiding any mention of B-50's existence and involvement in recent black ops missions.)**

Director Cliff: Hmm… (He sounds like he was mulling over his decision)

Police Chief Feig: I represent the TPD, and I am losing trust in the USDO. Do you want the TPD to lose trust in the USDO?

Director Cliff: Very well. The Powerpuff Girls will return to duty-

Police Chief Feig: Excellent, my friend!

Director Cliff: -After a grace period to allow them to rest and recover from their most recent operation.

Police Chief Feig: That works for me. Eh- how long is this grace period?

Director Cliff: (counting) Make it two days. They will rest today and tomorrow. They will back the TPD up from Tuesday onwards.

Police Chief Feig: I can smell a good deal when I see one. I'll take it.

Director Cliff: That goes for the both of us. Is there anything else?

Police Chief Feig: Just a few things. You do know that I'm the man in charge when it comes to cleaning up the streets, right?

Director Cliff: Apparently.

Police Chief Feig: It's going to be over soon. I can feel it. I'm going to need more help if we are to push our way to the end. Can I get a guarantee on that?

General Blackwater: Are you telling us that you don't have enough police officers at your disposal? Did the mayor flush his police funding down the drain this quarter?

Police Chief Feig: Oh no, nothing like that, of course. As you know - with the situation this delicate - officers you can trust are… limited in number. You get what I mean?

Chief of Intelligence Rook: Yes, we do.

Director Cliff: You have my guarantee on that. Trust between the USDO and TPD is important. We are, after all, after the same thing, aren't we?

Police Chief Feig: Yes. Eh - one other thing. Can my task force get more of those Duranium guns you guys seem to have in abundance in your armory?

Director Cliff: No.

Police Chief Feig: Fine. I knew I was pushing my luck anyway. I guess I'm done here. I don't know about you folks, but I still have a weekend to enjoy…. whatever is left of it.

General Blackwater: Be on your way then.

**(There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, footsteps and finally, doors being opened and closed)**

Director Cliff: Will the Powerpuff Girls be ready for deployment in two days, Blackwater?

General Blackwater: They will actually be ready by tonight; most of their injuries are mostly healed by now.

Medical Director Simmons: Are you so sure about that? I believe I've seen photos and documentations sent in by Professor Utonium. I wouldn't send them out so quickly after they'd sustained THOSE injuries.

General Blackwater: I thought you know better than that, doc. Those injuries are superficial even if they're hard to look at. By Enhanced standards, they're little more than cuts and bruises. You're too backward in your thinking, Simmons.

Medical Director Simmons: Getting chopped up by swords and machetes hardly qualify as minor injuries, general. I've seen how you've treated Bunny. I know you care about her, and how you care about Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup-

General Blackwater: You're out of line, doctor. Are you suffering from dementia again? You are becoming unprofessional, doc. What I feel has nothing to do with my job and our mission objectives.

Psychiatrist Alice: Blackwater. You're forgetting the psychology of the Girls! Can you imagine putting children through all that? Getting shot at, chopped up with swords and sabers and machetes- facing adults and degenerates who wish them dead?

General Blackwater: They'll have to get used to it.

Psychiatrist Alice: (sound of a chair being pushed back) I don't think they can! Why can't you seem to understand!?

General Blackwater: You're underestimating them.

Psychiatrist Alice: No, I'm not! I've seen them! Just yesterday! If they were any other bunch of kids, they would've been put in a psych ward by now! You care nothing about your soldiers! And you treat those kids like- like- they're expendable. I bet Bunny could be killed the next day and you'd just go on drinking your coffee like it's just another day!

General Blackwater: You lab rat! (chair pushed back, table was slammed) How dare you!? You think you know everything about me-!

Director Cliff: I think the three of you have bickered enough! We will discuss USDO matters while we wait for Mayor Wilford to show up.

**(10 minutes of status updates and organization responses to changes were discussed.)**

**(There was the sound of doors opened.)**

Mayor Wilford: Oh my, this place hasn't changed much since the last time we're here!

Townsville Liaison Bellum: It's mostly because the USDO is more austere than aesthetic, sir.

Mayor Wilford: Oh, nevermind. It's good to see you, Mister Cliff. Er- That was your name, right?

Director Cliff: Yes, it is. Please, have a seat.

Mayor Wilford: I apologize, my memory's been slipping lately.

Director Cliff: Now what brings you here, Mister Mayor?

Mayor Wilford: Hmm, yes. It's about something I've been planning for a while. It's something this town surely needs while it is undergoing this… high fever of crime and urban warfare.

CFO Silverslick: That's a good one, sir.

Mayor Wilford: Hmm, yes, thank you. We have a celebration coming up and I've decided that the USDO should be involved in no small part.

Director Cliff: I've heard of it. Humor me, Mister Mayor, what is it about?

Mayor Wilford: Why, gladly, Mister Director! Your Powerpuff Girls have been doing a lot for Townsville lately and giving them their victory parade is the least we can do. It's, of course, technically your victory parade too, of course - since the USDO are the ones who brought them here.

Director Cliff: You do realize that we'll be painting targets on those kids' backs, right? Anyone involved in this 'celebration' of yours will be vulnerable.

Mayor Wilford: Well, that is why I've brought half the TPD into this. I've even alerted the Townsville National Guards to be on standby for the event. It's why I've come, in person, to bring you into this. It would be nice to actually have the actual Powerpuff Girls at the head of the victory parade, rather than just balloon imitations…

Director Cliff: I'll tell you exactly how I see it. I think it's only a courtesy to be shared between leaders. I think it's a horrible idea, and I think it's premature, considering that we're still in the middle of the war.

Police Commissioner Davis: My top police chiefs are predicting an end to all this mess within months, if even that. They're losing and badly, director. Thanks to Police Chief Feig - I think you've seen him just now - we've been able to cut the head off the snake - no, the heads off the snakes - in record time. Thanks to your Powerpuff Girls, too, of course.

Director Cliff: Even then, it would be a security nightmare and a disaster waiting to happen.

Police Commissioner Davis: I'm putting three thousand officers on the Powerpuff victory parade. Yes, not a hundred, not a thousand - I'm putting three thousand officers to guard the entire route of the parade. I'm throwing in the cream of the crop - all the top dogs for this. I will have SWAT teams, snipers and even the STARS teams on the ground, with helicopters in the air. Even a foreign army would think twice before attacking the parade.

Director Cliff: Still, what will all this achieve? It feels like a luxury I would rather not have. We're in a bad neighborhood - no offense, Mayor Wilford - and you don't walk around with golden necklaces and rings and designer bags and sneakers in the middle of gang territory.

Mayor Wilford: On the contrary, the urm… Urm… Oh, fie! I'm sorry, I've lost my train of thought there…

Townsville Liaison Bellum: Director Cliff, sir-

Director Cliff: It's good to see you again, Miss Bellum.

Townsville Liaison Bellum: Yes, it is, sir. I think Mayor Wilford was going to say that the Powerpuff victory parade is pivotal. It'll bring hope to everyone. It'll tell every criminal in the city that it's no longer in their grip. The Girls will appreciate it. This parade is the Mayor's baby, and his way to say thanks to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup - and the USDO, which he really wanted to do.

Mayor Wilford: Eh- er- Yeah, that's all of it. I think. I know I might sound like a foolish old man, but when you've gotten to a certain age, you'd want to say everything you ever want to say…

Director Cliff: What do you think, General Blackwater?

General Blackwater: Morale and public opinion is an important factor to winning a war. I don't plan on this being a second Vietnam War. We could guard the victory parade with our soldiers and make it far safer than it already is.

Mayor Wilford: Oh, the USDO gets to be at the head of the parade too, by the way. Why not put your tanks and stuff up front?

General Blackwater: You know we have tanks?

Mayor Wilford: I assumed you have tanks.

General Blackwater: Of course we do. The Powerpuff Girls will be vulnerable. We will deploy our tanks, APCs, humvees and a marching contingent ahead of them.

Mayor Wilford: That just made the parade even better. It's a little heavy-handed, but I'm sure the crowd will appreciate it as a sign of the changing times.

Director Cliff: Mister Mayor, are you alright?

Mayor Wilford: Well…

Townsville Liaisons Bellum: He's not.

Mayor Wilford: I'm afraid so.

Townsville Liaisons Bellum: Early-stage dementia. It's been two months now.

Director Cliff: That's regrettable.

Mayor Wilford: I've been talking to Miss Bellum here - she's been telling me about your medical technology. I have a favor to ask…

Director Cliff: And I know what it is. Doctor?

Medical Director Simmons: Most of our advanced medicine are prophylactic, mayor. They were meant to prevent, rather than cure.

Mayor Wilford: Oh…

Medical Director Simmons: However, we've applied what we have to aging personnel before, back when our anti-aging medications were novel. Many of them showed improvements in mental and physical performance and were able to serve this country for far longer than nature would have allowed. I know, because I'm one of them.

Mayor Wilford: Well then, what are we waiting for?

Medical Director Simmons: I don't want to get your hopes up, Mister Mayor. I said 'many', not 'all'. There are many factors at play. You're too close to being a centenarian, and that's a huge factor. It's basically a coin toss. Even then, we don't know if your early-stage dementia will be completely reversed, partly or not at all. We MIGHT only arrest its development, but there's a good chance you'll be stuck in the early stage.

Mayor Wilford: When I approached the very hospital I built and gave my name to, they couldn't even give me a sliver of hope of coming back from this. They told me to retire, get my business in order and enjoy the rest of my days while I still can.

Director Cliff: Why not?

Mayor Wilford: Townsville needs me, now more than ever. I've seen the other candidates who're eyeing next year's elections. They're either incompetent or in the pocket of the mafia. This term and the next… That's all I'm asking for. It's all I need. If Townsville's ever going to see the sun again, we'll- urm-

Townsville Liaisons Bellum: We've discussed at length about this at his office. He's saying that it will take this term and the next to weed out enough crime and corruption for the next mayoral candidate to be clean. At least, that's the projection.

Mayor Wilford: I know it sounds egotistical, but it's all I have left. I knew all about winning in my earlier days. The last two decades had just been one shameful failure after another. I want to see it end, and I want it to pay off before my very own eyes.

Director Cliff: You and me both. We have the diagnosis and the prognosis, doctor. Will you begin treatment?

Medical Director Simmons: Immediately. Gotta save as many of his brain cells as possible!

**(5 minutes of an ongoing discussion on USDO matters. There was then the opening and closing of doors after that.)**

Director Cliff: Agent Mudler of the FBI and Agent Booker of the CIA, I presume?

Agent Booker: That's our name, yes. But that's the least of your worries, for now.

Director Cliff: Have a seat. What does the FBI and the CIA want with our fledgling agency?

Agent Mudler: Fledgling? I don't think so. But I'm sure we're not here for a history lesson, are we?

Director Cliff: I assume you've done your homework, then.

Agent Mudler: Always have. The USDO left quite a mess near Citysville's bridge. Grey humvee with a dead engine and six dead bodies, five in uniform. Sounds familiar? I have photos if you want.

Director Cliff: That's a God damn tragedy if there ever was one. They were good men. One of them ran the agency's logistics arm. He was irreplaceable.

Agent Mudler: Any reason why they were out there? So far away from Townsville?

Director Cliff: They were prosecuting a mission.

Agent Mudler: With an unarmed civilian on board?

Director Cliff: There were supply problems with our outpost in Citysville. Serious supply problems. You know how it is with counter-terrorist operations.

Agent Mudler: Any idea who attacked them?

Director Cliff: The Foundation did it, based on our own analysis of the crime scene.

Agent Mudler: The crime scene. It's odd, isn't it? That it took your agency twice as long as us to get there.

Director Cliff: Boy, no matter how you look at it, we're a fledgling agency, at least when it comes to 'open' operations like this. We're used to covert ops and intelligence gathering, not unlike your CIA buddy over there.

Agent Mudler: Right. The Foundation has access to military-grade explosives and armor-piercing rounds?

Director Cliff: Sometimes, yes. They may look like a ragtag bunch of 'freedom fighters', but they do pull surprises like that on occasion.

Agent Mudler: Like with their meta-humans? That's a believable story.

Director Cliff: It's a fact, and you better believe it.

Agent Booker: But we're not here to listen to it.

Director Cliff: Then why are you here?

Agent Booker: The FBI and CIA have been jointly investigating some - pardon my french - fucked up shit in Citysville, and we were handling your humvee mishap at the bridge jointly too. We would like to return to Townsville, but this time, in a joint operation with the USDO. How 'bout it?

Director Cliff: That's all well and good, but what use are the FBI and CIA? We've got intelligence and law enforcement covered.

Agent Mudler: We've been operating longer, and we have the manpower, something I understand you're still trying to build. We can help each other.

Agent Booker: Three agencies are better than one.

Director Cliff: Perhaps I did not explain myself clearly. What use are the FBI and CIA? If I remember my history correctly, the FBI was driven out of Townsville years ago, am I right? And I think the same goes for the CIA? The USDO has lasted longer, and we will continue to last.

Agent Mudler: The USDO hasn't lasted longer by much. We know why we failed. We can help you avoid the same pitfalls.

Agent Booker: The CIA, at least, has put a few men in Townsville as advance agents. We know that the forces at work here are moving against you, big time. If you think you've had it rough, they have more in store.

Agent Mudler: The FBI has put a few agents in Townsville too. I can concur with Agent Booker here. The fact that we have put our agents here in Townsville right under your nose should be a cause for worry-

Chief of Intelligence Rook: You're assuming that we don't know, of course. Agent Scullie was heading the FBI's advance team in Old Town, am I right?

Agent Mudler: Yes. You are.

Chief of Intelligence Rook: And Agent Mitchell is heading the CIA's advance team in the Tenement Area, I take it.

Agent Booker: How did you-

Chief of Intelligence Rook: Oh, I can't take all the credit. My predecessor's been monitoring the activities of rival agencies since this whole thing started. He's a great teacher, and I merely graduated.

Director Cliff: I would be more worried about my own advance party if I were you. Sit back down, Rook. I think we've shown our fangs long enough. The FBI and CIA are welcome to attend to their unfinished business, on one condition.

Agent Mudler: What condition?

Director Cliff: You will fall in line, and follow our lead.

Agent Booker: It's all we want; the same thing you've been providing the TPD. Inter-agency cooperation.

Director Cliff: I wouldn't call it cooperation. We're taking charge, and we're doing things our way because as far as I can see, we're making progress.

Agent Booker: Fair enough.

Agent Mudler: So when you ask us to jump, we ask you how high…

Director Cliff: You don't have to like it. This is not about pride here. We're about to solve a decades-long problem, save the lives of countless thousands and make the lives of millions better. I don't need more problems that could fuck it up, especially from other government agencies that should've known better. We're getting enough of those from the TPD.

**(10 minutes passed. Another group enters as indicated by the sound of doors opening and closing. There were more footsteps.)**

General Blackwater: Lieutenant Mullens. Finally, someone from the TPD I actually want to see.

Lieutenant Mullens: I'm not big on ceremonies. I'd rather walk the walk, but I don't mind the occasional chat.

General Blackwater: Lieutenant Wednesday. Sergeant Mullens and… Patroldog Stanley Talker.

Sergeant Mullens: You can call me Olivia.

Animal Subject C143: Ri'm surprised you row ry name. Don't think that ri've forgiven you.

General Blackwater: Right. Detective Mullens - is there a reason why that talking dog is here?

Lieutenant Mullens: He's a valued member of the task force. He's earned his place from the way he sniffs out the evidence and digs them up. The rest of my task force is busy. That talking dog is filling in for them.

Director Cliff: Shall we?

Lieutenant Mullens: I'm here for one thing and one thing only. The Powerpuff Girls.

Director Cliff: Your best buds from Precinct 77 just came by. We've already agreed to bring the Powerpuff Girls back into active service within two days. Now, if there's nothing else-

Lieutenant Mullens: It's not strictly about that. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup are running with the wrong crowd. Feig is a bad influence.

Director Cliff: Police Chief Feig has been using them to topple one major gang after the next.

Lieutenant Mullens: It's an open secret within the TPD that he's got connections with the criminal underworld.

Director Cliff: Don't all of you police officers? You mean informants, right?

Lieutenant Mullens: No. I meant that he's dirty.

Director Cliff: Proof?

Sergeant Mullens: Here. (Sound of chair moving. Pictures sliding on a conference table)

Lieutenant Mullens: We still don't have an ID on who that person he's meeting, but-

Director Cliff: So you have no proof? If it's such an 'open secret', why hasn't anyone done anything about this guy? Why didn't Commissioner Davis do anything about him?

Lieutenant Mullens: He's a weasel, that's why. Keeps his meetings and correspondences tight. He made damn sure to look like a big damn hero by solving all the big cases unaffiliated with certain gangs.

General Blackwater: No offense, lieutenant, but how do I know if this is all just some rivalry between the two of you? I've seen how it's like in the city. It's a jungle. Survival of the fittest. How do I know if it's not just you trying to one-up an otherwise clean cop? Just so you know, lieutenant. I don't like politics. I think they're a waste of time that only children indulge in. Explain yourself.

Lieutenant Mullens: As I was saying, he's been steering clear of most cases involving certain gangs. I've gone through his history. Most of his cold cases involved the Lombardi family. But he's a weasel, and he had made arrests on Lombardi associates and made-men - but those were nobodies, likely fall guys to make him look good. That means he's been making arrangements with the Amoeba Boys. It all makes sense. What better inside man than the man on top? A police chief, for instance?

Director Cliff: Still, it is just a theory, right? You said you have no evidence to support this.

Lieutenant Mullens: Which is why I need the USDO's help. My hands are tied in the TPD. It's a forest of red tape in there, and I'm being blocked by my supposed superiors at every turn.

Director Cliff: And how do you think we can help you with this possible betrayal?

Lieutenant Mullens: Take the Powerpuff Girls off Feig's hands. We don't know what he's planning. My investigations are going nowhere without them - the Amoeba Boys know that I'm onto them, and they've been beefing up their fronts such that I'll have to risk too much to even put my foot in.

Director Cliff: Rook, what do you think?

Chief of Intelligence Rook: If we take the Powerpuff Girls off Feig's hands and put them together with you, it'll be far too obvious a move and raise suspicions. There is, however, an… alternative.

Lieutenant Mullens: What alternative?

Animal Subject C143: Ri don't rike the sound of that…

Chief of Intelligence Rook: You don't have to hear it if you don't want to. I'll get my intelligence officers and agents to find evidence of Feig's involvement with the Lombardi family. Give us a few days and we'll have something.

Lieutenant Mullens: And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Are we supposed to just sit on our hands?

Director Cliff: I'm sure you'll find some other avenue of investigation to get at the Amoeba Boys. Leave this one to the USDO.

Lieutenant Wednesday: I have a few ideas in mind. The Lombardi have their claws in everything, including anything that would be considered vices.

(After about 9 more minutes of discussions, there is the sound of footsteps, and doors opening and closing.)

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**


	103. Chapter 96: Stalker of the Dark (Part 1)

**Chapter 96: Stalker of the Dark (Part 1)**

'Hey, sound recorder, hey Dad. Thanks for getting your friend to meet me. She's really nice and she talked to me about everything. She's so nice, she didn't tell you about how I yelled at her. If you ever found out, I just want you to know that I'm sorry. Anyway, we talked about my trip to the warehouse. I killed lots of bad men and women today. She helped me to feel better about it because talking about it helps, I guess.

I'm just sorry I can't talk to you about it. I wish I could, but I have to protect you and our family. Alice is right. It really hurts inside that I can't talk about it. But soon, Dad. Soon, we'll all live happily ever after and we'll talk about anything we want…

It's just… Some of it is really bad. I killed lots of children and some really sad people yesterday. I'm still thinking about it and I can't sleep because of it. They were really sad. Their clothes were dirty and all torn up and stuff, and some of them were thin and the way they look… Some of them had guns and they were shooting at me and I didn't know what to do! General Blackwater and Chief of Intelligence Rook told me I had to get rid of all of them or you'd be in danger, Dad. So I did.

But lots of them were just scared. Even those with the guns. I feel sorry for them and… I feel sorry for myself.' - Bunny Utonium, 03/05/89, 0103. Sound Record File 13.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenements. Run-Down Apartment.**

**05 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 2203.**

It was a dark night, more so because the tenements area of Townsville was barely lit, with some of the streetlamps under-maintained or intentionally broken by rocks thrown by vandals. Bunny was perching on the rooftop of a dilapidated water tower like a gargoyle, a hand on the katana on her back, still unused to equipping it. She had to put her night vision goggles on to be able to scout her next objective at all. Zooming her vision in, she could see guards at every entrance - literally every entrance around the apartment she had to enter. Using her x-ray vision, she was able to see everything. The marriage of high technology and her Chemical X2-enabled biological enhancements had enabled that.

It was going to be another long and bloody night. A night when she would surely have to kill blameless people who were just mixed in with the bad. Bunny heaved a sigh. She couldn't help but daydream a little.

The morning had started strangely. Blossom and Bubbles were quick to forgive each other and breakfast was a fun time for them. Buttercup, however, was even more aloof than usual. So much so that she didn't seem to have the same appetite that she was famous in the family for, and that was even with Mom's pancakes on the menu.

When Bunny tried to make Buttercup feel better by helping her cut her pancakes up and feeding her, hoping that perhaps Buttercup might smile at her and say a single kind word, all she got in return was a shove. Sure, Mom would defend Bunny of course, and Dad would give Buttercup an earful, but all it did was to drive an even bigger wedge between them.

They were up in their room after that. Buttercup had isolated herself from the rest of them by hiding in the walk-in closet. Bunny had thought about approaching her again but decided against it. There was just something about Buttercup that scared her; it was the hateful look that she would give her.

Blossom and Bubbles would then rope her in for their games. They had fun at first, playing with a kitchen set, Buttercup's fleet of road vehicles, which lay abandoned, and Bunny's wargame simulation. They had a little blindfold hide-and-seek after that, and Bunny couldn't help but use her x-ray vision. Bubbles was impressed, and Blossom was not. Still, things seem to be looking up. At least Blossom did not blow her top. Instead, the leader sister invited Bunny up to the roof of The House.

There, Blossom continued teaching Bunny how to fly. There were a few false starts at first, with Bunny bouncing in angles that caused her to crash and slide on the snow headfirst. But after that, it was smooth sailing, and Bunny was able to perform her double-hop effectively and reliably. However, flight had yet to be achieved.

'Mister Blackwater's going to kill us,' Blossom had said then…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**05 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 1125.**

"Mister Blackwater's going to kill us," Blossom said.

"General Blackwater. He prefers being called that," Bunny corrected her, only to get a glare from the leader of the quartet. "I'm sorry…" She would apologize several times over. Still, Blossom had remained scary throughout, crossing her arms and glaring at her. It was as if she had become much more angry and aggressive in the absence of Buttercup.

"She said sorry…" Bubbles stuck her neck out as she always did for Bunny. Blossom turned her glare on her instead, but with time, she seemed to calm down.

"You know, there's a way you can make up for that," Blossom said with a smile after that. It'd gotten Bunny's hope up. "I'll call it even if you tell me about all those adventures you've been having."

"Oh…" Bunny said. She found it odd that Blossom would keep requesting this despite rejecting her the first time. Couldn't she understand the meaning of 'classified'? "I'm sorry, Blossom. I can't. General Blackwater wouldn't want me to."

Blossom's glare and frown had returned then. Hard. Enough to startle Bunny with the possible consequences alone.

"Is General Blackwater your sister!?" Blossom scolded. "There shouldn't be any secrets between sisters, Bunny! There's always trouble each time there is!" She then turned to Bubbles. "Right, Bubbles?"

"Right…" Bubbles mumbled with her head held low. She knew what Blossom was referring to.

"I… I was…" Bunny had genuinely tried to say something about her experiences outside then, but too much was holding her back. Duty. Responsibility. Love for her family - talking about classified information could get her family in some huge, unfathomable trouble. "I really can't, Blossom. I'm sorry."

"You're not a Powerpuff Girl. You won't ever be a Powerpuff Girl," Blossom scolded.

"But-" Bunny cried. She had always wanted to be like her older sisters, to emulate them. Being called a Powerpuff Girl was everything to her. "I've been fighting crime and keeping you guys safe and-"

"You're lying," Blossom accused.

"I'm not!" Bunny said, this time more firmly. It didn't feel good to be misunderstood. It was worse when it was something that had hardly ever happened before. It was way, way worse, knowing that it was coming from someone she least expected.

"Shut up!" Blossom screamed. Bunny was going to say more when she felt a punch across her face; something else she didn't expect. She stared at Blossom, stunned. How could her big sister hit her like that? "Don't ever think about calling yourself a Powerpuff Girl again. You're not like us. Not at all!"

There was still so much that had been brewing like a dark cloud over Blossom's head. Dad had told Blossom everything about Bunny's achievements in the lab, the tests performed to probe at the limit of her enhancements. He had all but told Blossom that Bunny was better in every way. Though that wasn't the exact wording Dad had used, Blossom had interpreted it that way, and it didn't sit well with her.

Dad had broken his promise once more. He hadn't been spending much time with Blossom at all, and it was unlike him. To Blossom, it could only mean one thing. It was all Bunny's fault.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of the strife between Blossom and Bunny that day. Later that day, Blossom had walked in on Bunny, who was distracting herself from her sadness by maintaining her motorbike like how General Blackwater had taught her to.

Something on the bike had attracted Blossom's attention. Reaching out for it and gripping a handle, she pulled the object out. It turned out to be a katana, and it looked very familiar. The scabbard of the Japanese sword was of a crimson color, like blood, and the handle was colored the same way too. The blade itself was Duranium. Blossom could see the shimmering aura of the metal using her Duranium-vision.

Bunny stood rooted to the ground, dropping everything she had been doing. She didn't dare to look at Blossom for fear of setting her off.

"Where did you get this?" Blossom asked, her voice trembling with anger.

"Nowhere…" Bunny lied. She couldn't talk about her secret missions - she just couldn't.

"If you're not going to tell me, I won't give it back to you," Blossom said, hiding the sword behind her back. The weapon appeared huge behind her.

"Blossom! Stop! Give it back!" Bunny cried, circling her bike. She accidentally knocked it over. Tools she'd set on the seat of the bike had fallen over, clattering on the floor. Spare parts were scattered. Work was undone.

"Not until you tell me what you've been doing outside!" Blossom interrogated the distraught Bunny. She backed away from Bunny, who was coming closer.

"It's mine! General Blackwater gave it to me!" Bunny lied. Blossom didn't look convinced.

"I saw it somewhere before. It was Ace's!" Blossom revealed. "He used it to fight me and hurt Bubbles! You're a big, fat liar!"

"Give it back!" Bunny yelled aggressively before launching herself at Blossom, reaching for the sword. Together, they fell down on the garage floor, and all of a sudden, Blossom let out a bloodcurdling scream. Bunny scrambled off, wondering how she could have injured Blossom without using any offensive strikes.

Shockingly, there was blood on the floor. Blossom had left Ace's Duranium katana on the floor. The bottom of the blade was stained with blood. Looking at her hand, which was awash with blood, it didn't dawn on both kids that the older child had accidentally sliced her palm on the sharp edge of the blade in their tussle. But it quickly did, and both of them burst into tears on seeing it.

The bawling was so loud that it had attracted the attention of both Dad and Mom, who rushed into the garage to witness the grisly scene before them.

"What in Einstein's hair happened!?" Professor Utonium was close to screaming when he saw Blossom and Bunny on the floor. It was equally shocking to the man, as he wasn't used to seeing blood outside the operating theater.

"Blossom! What did you do!?" Selicia accused immediately, hands akimbo.

"She- Bunny- stole- and hurt me!" Blossom tried to explain in between her sobs, but it was harder than putting down a bad guy.

"I didn't steal that sword! It was mine!" Bunny, despite being younger, was able to keep her emotions under control enough to explain herself. Tears were still running freely, but she was easier to understand. "She tried to take it away and I asked her to stop but she wouldn't!"

Bunny appeared far more credible by a mile. Selicia was able to reach Blossom before the professor could. Instead of reaching for her injury, however, Selicia pinched Blossom by the ear and forced her to her feet by pulling her up by the ear.

"You better hope your hand doesn't hurt more when I'm done with you! Picking on your younger sister like that!" Selicia scolded as she pulled Blossom by the ear, leading her out of the garage that way.

"But Mom!" Blossom's cry grew faint as they went out of view.

"Are you okay, Bunny?" Professor Utonium asked as he half-knelt beside the youngest of the quartet. She hugged him without saying another word, nearly taking him down with her.

"Blossom's been mean to me the whole day!" Bunny cried. "I can't stand it!"

"Oh, Bunny," the professor said. How was he going to explain this? His own childhood was fraught with sibling rivalry. Eugene Upton, his younger brother, wasn't exactly a gentle soul. He was his father's son, a born marine, and it showed way too many times in his youth. "I'm sure Blossom didn't mean it that way. She's young... She's, well, born with a really young mind and body, and I guess she doesn't know how to express her sisterly love for you very well."

"I hate her. She doesn't love me," Bunny said, still full of grief.

"Honey, that's simply not true…" the Dad said. "You're just upset, that's all…"

"She said I can't ever be a Powerpuff Girl. She said I'm not like them at all," Bunny said.

"I see. I'll talk to her about it," Dad would say. His expression seemed to have changed. Was he angry? And just trying not to show it? "But just think about what I said."

Blossom did not have a good time after that. Mom was extremely rough with her while applying first aid. True to her words, her hand did hurt much worse after that, and that was before Dad started stitching it back up. Even after that, she would receive some tongue-lashing from both Dad and Mom, which was arguably even worse.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenements. Run-Down Apartment.**

**05 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 2204.**

From Bunny's perspective, it felt as if there was no reason for her to continue. Blossom despised her, and Buttercup shunned her. She couldn't help but focus on that. It was only when her thoughts turned to those who seemed to care about her that she found a reason to continue. Dad was waiting for her at home. Bubbles promised to give her extra flight lessons, and spend another day with her in the wind tunnel. Even General Blackwater came up in her mind, then Nana Weston. She remembered even Alice, and what she said about remembering who was waiting for her after the mission was over. It was all thanks to her that she hadn't frozen up longer than she did.

"Rook to Bravo-Five-Zero. Explain stationary position, over," Rook on the radio asked.

"Nothing, just looking, over," Bunny found a quick excuse, but then decided to start moving before Rook could say anything else. Sprinting forward, she jumped off the top of the water tower as hard as she could. In mid-air, she emitted an X-thrust, allowing her to 'double-hop' in mid-air, giving her enough speed to land on the closest apartment building.

She had been briefed on the mission before it started. It concerned a man named Paul Feig, a police chief with the TPD who ran Precinct 77. He was recently put in charge of a huge task force responsible for dispersing the numerous criminal gangs of Townsville. Rumor has it that he was corrupted and had been working for the Lombardi Crime Family, though his goals were unknown. He had been following through with the job he had been given personally by Commissioner Davis himself, so it was hard to pin anything on him.

What was known, however, was that though Feig had been given free rein to execute his role however he pleased, more than half the TPD was critical of him for how he had gotten so many crime bosses and their lieutenants killed. While no one knew the specifics, many suspected him of engineering their deaths. The Powerpuff Girls were used like tools, and he'd unleashed them with zero supervision - and who knew what Feig had said to the Girls? Even the crime bosses who didn't die by the Powerpuff Girls' hands had died by other means. Unidentified assassins would always happen to be there to carry out drive-bys or simple shootings to dispose of anyone the Girls let go.

Had the crime bosses been taken alive, justice would have been carried out with due process; much of their crimes and associated cases would have seen the light of day and be solved one after another. Stolen goods and reparations would have been extracted.

The USDO had a working theory that all this would be to the advantage of the Lombardi, as their criminal links with most of the gangs in Townsville would have implicated them, and when the many gangs' wealth had been left untouched, they would be ripe for the taking - and guess who knew best about where to find them?

Intelligence had worked all day to find out more about Police Chief Feig. Their agents and informants managed to gather that he would be meeting members of the Lombardi in the Tenements Area. Bunny's job was simple: she was to collect evidence for Feig's corruption and apprehend him on the spot.

Bunny continued hopping from building to building using the new ability Blossom had taught her. It felt like a magical moment to her. A reminder that, despite how mad Blossom seemed to be towards her all the time, perhaps there was sisterly love in her. Why else would she teach her such an important skill? Why else would she keep coming back to her?

It didn't take long for her to reach a high-rise that was close to the apartment building she had to infiltrate. Perching on the edge of the decaying structure, she surveyed the scene before her. Approaching it would be difficult without getting detected. The apartment had once been a luxury apartment, likely devalued because of the surrounding tenements and the urban decay infecting the neighborhood like a disease.

The apartment building was further away from the rest of the buildings and was likely chosen as a secret meeting place because of this. There were too many eyes at every entrance, all within earshot of each other. Floodlights and streetlamps were everywhere, and there was no way to deactivate them without digging up the cables deep in the ground and cutting them. There were no underground entrances that led into the interior of the apartment either, based on the briefing she had.

The only way was the hard way. And time was running out. A car drove up to the entrance of the luxury apartment, and out came a man in a fedora and duster. Bunny zoomed her vision in, but she could only see the back of his head. Still, it was convincing enough for her. She whipped out a camera and began snapping pictures.

Despite the urgency of the mission, Bunny opted to wait. General Blackwater's lessons came to mind. Patience was key. It was all like a game of chess. The pieces were moving, and opportunities would eventually present itself. She kept waiting, even as her mark had entered the building. Guards continued to patrol the building. Some remained stationary.

Minutes passed. It was starting to look hopeless, but then an opportunity did present itself. The eastward entrance's patrolling guard had gone around the corner, and the guard at the entrance had gone back in. It was perfect.

Without waiting another second, Bunny sprinted back to where she came from and dropped down from the rooftop and into an alley. Peeking out of it, she saw that the coast was clear. She sprinted again, this time towards the entrance, and she was there within seconds.

Opening the door quietly, she saw the stationary guard inside with his back facing her, drinking from a canteen. Drawing her knife, she pounced on top of him and slit his throat before he could even let a word out. Oddly enough, there was no one else. Bunny did not have time to study her surroundings when she made the kill, but in a few seconds after, she realized that she was in the lobby of the luxury apartment.

The indicator lights above an elevator attracted her attention. Taking a quick look at the indicator lights of the other elevators, she saw that they weren't moving. Putting two and two together, she realized that her mark had taken the elevator, and it was going up, its progress marked by the lights. It was on the third floor, but it had moved to the fourth.

The elevators were a no-go. It would be far too easy to get ambushed in one of them. Knowing this, Bunny took the stairs instead. The stairs were surprisingly bereft of guards. She stopped on the fourth floor, tireless despite the climb, and looked through the door of the landing with her x-ray vision to check on the elevator. It had gone to the fifth floor, then the sixth.

"Who the-" a man said. Someone had spotted her while coming down the stairs. Bunny had reacted quickly, turning her head and taking off his with her newly discovered ocular laser beams. The man's head rolled down the steps, and his body collapsed after. Identifying the man was an afterthought, but it seemed obvious who he was, judging by the pistol that had clattered on the ground, and the stereotypical fedora and suit that Lombardi soldatos wear.

Bunny sprinted up the stairs to the sixth floor, only to see that the elevator had gone up to the seventh. Quietly, she ran up once more, before using her x-ray vision again. The elevator doors had already opened because it was closing the moment she saw it. She listened intently, using her enhanced hearing, and she could pick up footsteps. She turned to look, x-ray vision still on, and she saw him. It was the same man but with dusters and a fedora. She saw a profile of his face. Overweight, but with thick bones and even thicker muscles underneath. Not that it mattered. Normal people were way too easy to overpower no matter their size.

Going back to the doors at the landing, she peeked out of it to see the mark approaching a door. Whipping out her camera once more, she took a quick snapshot before the man could notice her. He almost did, as he had turned to look. Bunny gasped and hid in the landing outside the common corridor, a hand over her mouth and nose as if the disguised police chief could hear her breathing.

She x-rayed the walls again and saw the mark knocking on the door before being let in. She listened for a few seconds for any movement in the corridors. Nothing. She went through the doors of the stairs landing and into the common corridor, sneaking towards the door the mark went through quietly. Had she been a rabbit, her ears would have been standing and peaked. When she was at the door, she peeked through it with her x-ray vision again. She could see the whole apartment unit. The mark was accompanied by a couple of men in suits. Likely Lombardi. They were walking towards a flight of stairs leading up to the unit's second floor. It was a luxury apartment, so she expected each residence to be much larger than normal.

_DING!_ It sounded so loud when her enhanced hearing was active. Another elevator had reached the seventh floor, and the metal doors were already opening. Bunny backed away, discovering that she was cornered.

'Hide!' she was telling herself. Only, there was nowhere to hide. The common corridor was little more than an elongated box. 'Please, Bunny, hide!'

A group of three men and a woman, all smartly dressed as if for a business meeting, had walked out of the elevator. Bunny drew her SMG and tensed up, unprepared for a confrontation so soon, but there was no way for her to hide. She could feel tingling up her spine, some kind of a pins-and-needles sensation running up her entire body.

Only, she realized something after that. The four Lombardi soldatos were just walking towards her, continuing down the common corridor as if she wasn't there. Confused, Bunny lowered her MP5. Her four enemies continued walking towards her, coming closer - close to the point where she could reach out and touch them. Out of nervousness, Bunny reached for the handle of Ace's katana, which was slung on her back. If she had to, she would fight with SMG on one hand and sword in another.

But there was no fight to be had. They did not even suspect that she was there. One of them produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door before the four criminals walked in.

The door slammed shut after that.

'What happened?' Bunny thought. She slung her MP5 on her back once more, and that was when her question had been answered.

She could see right through herself. And it wasn't because of her x-ray vision! Bunny put her hands in front of her eyes to look at them. She couldn't see her hands at first, and as if it was some kind of delayed reaction, her hands soon appeared, at first nearly transparent, before becoming translucent, then finally back to normal after that.

She had turned invisible, somehow, invisible… like some stalker of the dark.


	104. Chapter 97: Stalker of the Dark (Part 2)

**Chapter 97: Stalker of the Dark (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. The Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**05 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 2216.**

"Is the trap set in place?" a growling voice asked, echoing in the dining hall of the Lombardi crime family's massive mansion headquarters.

"Yes, Don Ricci, and I've made damn sure the stick's bigger than the carrot," Fedele Palladino answered while he was cutting up some rabbit meat on his plate. It was a rare treat, something hardly anyone in the city ever partook in.

Bossman laughed. "Why the animosity, Fedele? It's almost unprofessional," the Lombardi don said. Slim and Junior were too busy eating their own rabbit steaks to bother with talking. It was only when they were forced to split up and coordinate their own band of gangsters that they would flap their lips more. "So we have some animal loose in the city - it don't mean we get all angry. Just call animal control and sort it out, you know, read a newspaper while you're at it."

"That animal killed my buds at the warehouse district," Fedele said. He stabbed the piece of rabbit meat he had been eating. "I was thrown in jail because of her. The look the prisoners and the guards gave me… I haven't been in a cell for years. It was humiliating! I look like some helpless chump with my injured leg and a crutch. If my paid cops hadn't put me in a separate cell, I'd be dead in minutes. She's going to pay for that."

"You said you've seen her. Tell me again how she's like," Bossman asked.

"She's crazy. Had some futuristic armor on. Blew up everyone with grenades and bombs and shot down the rest of them. She sure likes purple - if only she's as girly as her favorite color," Fedele described, with no small amount of venom in his voice. "Cause if she was, I would have held her down and fucked her."

"I hope you're not serious. You know the rules, right? Anyway, sounds like my kind of girl," the mob don replied after chewing and swallowing another long slice of rabbit meat. "Would have loved for her to join my other girls - Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup."

"Then why did you give me the go-ahead for the trap?" Fedele asked, now confused.

"Back in the day, when I was just another run-of-the-mill soldato, I went to Las Vegas on a gambling trip. Remember that time, Palladino?" Bossman explained. "I went in as a stranger and raked it in big time at the cards table. I decided to try the slots after that, and I just kept losing. I saw the signs, and I ignored it. One of the casino attendants was watching me. They probably tweaked the machine. I lost half my earnings pushing my luck, and I spent the rest of it consoling myself with good food, good booze and good women."

"Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup was a gamble that paid off, and I know when to stop," Bossman continued. "This 'animal' that's been rampaging in the city, killing my men and my friends, ruining my business and my plans… needs to die. If she does, she ain't worth a gamble anyway. And if she doesn't? Well, I might need to gamble again in the future, see if I can show her the good life somehow."

"What was her name again?" Bossman asked.

"I heard that it was 'Bunny' from a friend's friend in the USDO," Fedele said.

"Bunny, eh? I like that name," Bossman remarked, before putting another slab of rabbit meat in his mouth.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Tenements. Run-Down Apartment.**

**05 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 2217.**

It was entirely unexpected, turning invisible. Even the naive Bunny could see the value in such an ability, and it was beyond just the wow factor. However, there was no time to celebrate, no time to experiment with it.

It was time. Bunny had been ordered to gather evidence of Feig's corruption. With the photos she had taken, she had more or less done it. Her second order was to arrest Feig on the spot - everyone else was just fodder.

She considered going in with just her laser eye beams blazing, but that would be too tiring. Instead, she raised her SMG. Coming up to the door, she reached for the doorknob and gripped it. With a single jerk, she managed to pull the doorknob off - along with the locking mechanisms inside - throwing it aside after that. Barging through, she fired her weapon at the two guards stationed in the residence's stairs. They were killed instantly.

Two more men in suits stood up at the living room, firing a hail of bullets at her, bouncing off her chest armor and face. She returned fire, and her bullets had gone right through their chest and face. They collapsed almost simultaneously together. With the entire residence's first floor guards gone, Bunny returned her attention to the stairs. Running up to it, she began ascending. A grenade was thrown at her by a guard behind cover left of the stairs, but she was able to catch it in mid-air and toss it back. There was a shout before an explosion rang out.

Another guard, shredded by shrapnel but still breathing, leaned out from the right, by the stairs, and fired his sawed-off shotgun down at her, but the pellets did nothing to her. He couldn't escape death when Bunny reacted within milliseconds, pumping five or six rounds into his head.

There was a door right before the stairs on the second floor. Bunny saw through it with her x-ray vision preemptively and saw a group of three men and a woman preparing to rush through the door. She glared at the door and emitted her purple laser beams, sweeping it across the door, putting a slit on it… and the neck of a gangster who was about to open it. Like the other man Bunny had killed with her lasers, his head had rolled off, leaving the rest of the body to crumble where it was. The three other bad guys in the room were smarter and had backed away instead.

Running up to the door, Bunny punched a hole in it, pulled a grenade off her armor, primed it and threw it in. She never looked back as she knew her grenade had landed among the group inside, a good position to kill or mangle them all. As she continued to scan the other rooms of the residence's second floor with her x-ray vision, she could hear screams coming from that previous room and then an explosion. Based on the silence that ensued after that, it was clear that they were either dead or too wounded to pose any threat.

That was when she saw him. The next room ahead was occupied by him. The corrupted police chief, Paul Feig. He appeared to be sitting on a desk of some kind, facing the door. He didn't appear to be caring about what was going on around him, nor was he accompanied by anyone.

Sneaking quietly towards the door, she readied her SMG and hid behind the wall next to the door. From there, she gave the door a horse kick so powerful that it was shattered against the wall. Whirling into the room with her SMG up and her teeth gritted, she said not even a single word, relying on the threat she was projecting alone to freeze her mark.

"You're under arrest," she finally announced to Paul Feig. His face was in full view, exactly like what she saw in the pictures. He was wearing a brown duster and matching fedora, over stereotypical detective-type office wear.

"I'm Paul Feig," the mark said, almost in a tone-deaf manner.

"I know, stupid," Bunny said venomously - she had no sympathy for the man, who she was informed was a corrupt cop, someone who wasn't doing his job and fighting crime as he should. Someone who imperiled her family because of a lack of principles. "Put your hands above your head!"

"I'm Paul Feig," he repeated himself, in the exact same tone and manner. His head started convulsing after that. The expression on his face changed from one of idiocy to enormous pain - that was until his head was convulsing so much that she couldn't really tell what his expression was.

"What?" Bunny uttered, confused as much as she was frightened by the man's strange behavior. The rest of the man's body then began convulsing as well. He began making a strange, high-pitched whining sound, like a robot gone wrong. She could then hear bones snapping, flesh tearing. Strangely, there was no blood. Bunny gasped, backing away, eyes and mouth wide with fear and shock.

The man's look began changing - his face becoming thinner, smaller. His hair grew longer, turning blonde. The man became shorter, slimmer. He changed until he was no longer a man, but a woman.

"Praise Him for my gift!" the woman cried in the worship of someone - or something. She then drew a pistol from within her duster, but Bunny was faster and she fired her MP5 first, putting several bullets in her chest. The woman fell over on her desk and was lifeless after that. But Bunny had aimed wildly because of her shock, so she couldn't be sure if she had killed the face-dancer (for the lack of a better name).

Not that she would have time to find out.

Something had jumped out of a room far to the left that was just out of view of her x-ray vision, something about the size of a short man, but with a gigantic brain encased in reinforced glass.

"Here's Jojo!" the being screamed as it raised something in its hand, throwing back a purple cloak.

Mojo Jojo! Bunny recognized the unique individual. But it was far too late for her to react to him. The thing in his hand resembled a kind of speargun, and there was a loud explosion when he pulled the trigger. An arrow of some kind, propelled by Chemical W-laced gunpowder, shot out of the speargun and went straight into Bunny, who was knocked back by the force. She fell to her knees, after that, as the shock had weakened her.

Bunny's left arm felt numb. Looking down, she was met with a ghastly sight: the arrow had pierced her armor and gone right through her left shoulder, and it felt like it was brushing her left lung.

Never had she felt more vulnerable than before. Raising her MP5 one-handed, Bunny tried to fire it, but Mojo Jojo had pressed a button on his speargun first. Something whirred and spun in the arrow - inside her.

PAIN! PAIN was all Bunny felt in her shoulder, then in an instant, her entire body when the arrow in her began squirming mechanically. Bunny had only fired her SMG out of pain, the shots missing entirely before she dropped the gun and fell to the ground, screaming and writhing in pain never felt before.

It felt as if glass shards had been packed inside her wound - not only that, it felt as if the glass in it were spinning as if in a blender.

"Yes, yes! Alas, I've finally field-tested my Agony Boltgun! Muah hahaha!" Mojo Jojo cackled in triumph. "Feel the pain! The suffering! Feel my AGONY BOLTGUN!" His thumb remained on the button near the boltgun handle, and Bunny continued screaming and kicking. Her hand had gone up to the arrow, but she didn't dare pull it out - not that she had any strength left to do so.

Desperate to get out of it, Bunny shot a quick pair of purple laser beams at Mojo Jojo, who had to get out of the way - and barely did so.

"You fiend! Taste my creation's higher setting!" the sentient chimpanzee remarked as he flipped another switch on his boltgun and depressed the 'pain button' again. What Bunny had felt before became ten times worse, such that she vomited whatever remained of her snack. She continued screaming and squirming…

Until she became still.

Blood was beginning to spread beneath her, seeping into the wooden floor, in between floorboards.

"Muah hahahahaha!" the genius monkey cackled victoriously once more. "You who are the USDO's greatest weapon can't best me despite your apparent superiority, listen if you're still able. You can't beat me despite my supposed obsolescence because I am smart! I am intelligent! I am full of wit! A genius! Wise beyond my years-"

Bunny hadn't really been listening as she was falling in and out of consciousness. The pain had been unbearable, too much even for her Chemical X2-fortified body. In between periods of darkness, when she could still think - barely - Blossom's voice came into focus, of all people.

_You're not a Powerpuff Girl!_

"Blossom…" Bunny whimpered.

_You won't ever be a Powerpuff Girl!_

"Please…" Bunny muttered weakly.

_You're not like us. Not at all!_

"-Greatest mind in the history of-" Mojo Jojo had been going on when he stopped as he thought he'd heard something from Bunny. "Did you say something?" There was no response from the enhanced girl. Mojo Jojo nudged her with his white-booted foot, but she wasn't moving.

"You can't be dead, deceased, expired! I still need to run experiments on you! Dissect you! Vivisect you to find out-" the enhanced chimpanzee had gone on to rant only to be interrupted when Bunny had turned and fired her purple laser beams at him, cutting a swathe around his stomach, not it wasn't enough to do anything beyond burning fur and cutting skin.

She bolted straight for the window as the chimpanzee screamed in both rage and pain.

"Warrrrgh! How DARE you!" the mad monkey screeched as Bunny jumped through the window. "Come back here!" He'd pressed the button on his boltgun before she began to fall.

Bunny could feel it in her shoulder once more. Gears and mini-sawblades in the arrow were eating away at her flesh once more, like mini-sized piranha hungry for her blood. Bunny shrieked as she fell seven floors down, her consciousness fading once more. She was unable to break her fall properly, landing on all fours instead, with the arrow driven deeper into her.

It was as if the whole world was nothing but pain then, but somehow, she still managed to push herself up to her feet and continue running, even as men were swarming out of the building to take potshots at her.

"Come back here! You were supposed to be incapacitated! That arrow took me three days to make! Three days!" Bunny could still hear Mojo Jojo shouting from the window she'd jumped through. "CURSES!"

Bunny just kept running, slamming through a steel grille gate with her good shoulder. She'd kept going, despite the grinders in the arrow still turning, still inflicting unbearable agony on her. She was in the neighborhood without knowing it, dropping to her knees at one point and she had to pick herself up again. With Mojo Jojo's absence, the arrow was running on AUTO-PILOT, grinding away at her.

_Oh, Bunny-_ Dad's voice appeared this time.

Running past screaming pedestrians and confused passers-by, bumping into some of them as she couldn't help her unsteadiness, Bunny instinctively worked her way towards her hidden motorbike. Before she knew it, Bunny had found it and mounted it. She was coughing out blood when she started it.

_Hey, hey-_ Dad had comforted her even from afar

Bunny drove her bike out, weaving between people expertly despite the suffering she was enduring, ignoring shouts from both the living obstacles and the voices in her radio.

_It's going to be alright- _

She was on the highway when it happened. The arrow in her shoulder wasn't done with her yet, and it had discharged an electric shock. Bunny couldn't control herself then, and she'd slammed into a car. Falling in and out of consciousness, she was spared from most of the crash that ensued. It was only when she came to a rest on the asphalt that she was finally granted peace in unconsciousness…

Time seemed to slip by after that. At first, she saw a crowd forming around her, then soldiers carrying her into some vehicle.

"Hang on-" she remembered someone telling her. Was it General Blackwater or Rook or someone else? She couldn't really tell.

"-She's fading!"

She remembered muttering deliriously about 'Jojo' and 'arrow', 'Paul Feig' being 'fake' and that it was all a 'trap'.

_Don't be afraid-_

And just before she ran out of strength, she remembered feeling that her hand was entirely covered in blood, that the vehicle seat she was put on was soaked through. After that, it was just darkness in time and space.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1043.**

Bunny opened her eyes. She had to squint from the flood of light she had wakened to. She couldn't make out where she was at first, but the soft, comfortable surface she was lying on gave her some ideas. The first thing she could make out was three circular windows before her, then the pink walls and ceiling, and mountains of soft toys. A pink kiddie table and chairs. Beanie chairs in a corner, colored pink, baby blue and lime. There was a purple one, but it was apart from the rest.

Had yesterday been a nightmare? For the first time in her life, her memories were a little fuzzy. She tried sitting up, but the pain in her shoulder made her think twice about it. Flipping her blanket over, she saw that she was topless, with bandages covering the entirety of her left shoulder. Her left arm was in a sling, likely to avoid putting pressure on her healing shoulder in case she decided to sit up or use her arm on impulse.

She was still wearing her military trousers. The only other things that were off were her boots. Whoever was taking care of her likely didn't want to move her too much.

"I see that you're finally awake," Mom said as she sat down beside her. Still tense, Bunny was shaken by her sudden appearance. She was so tired that she didn't hear her coming up to her. Reaching for her forehead, Selicia pressed the back of her hand against it, before moving it to her cheek. "Your fever's gone. That's great."

Bunny gripped Selicia's hand the moment she realized, belatedly, that she was her Mom.

"There, there, it's okay now," Mom cooed at her soothingly as she wiped tears away from her eyes. "It's over. You're safe."

Dad walked into the room after that, carrying a tray to Bunny. Mom sat the injured enhanced girl up carefully and slowly before setting up a bed table for Dad to rest the tray on. There was a tall glass of orange juice with some kind of black liquid fading away in it. A simple toast sandwich with eggs and cheese sat beside it. An image of a smiley face was burned into the toast. Bunny turned to smile at Dad, still tearful but enlivened by how much Dad and Mom cared about her.

"Here. Drink," Dad sat down next and picked up the glass of orange juice, holding it close to Bunny's mouth.

"What is that?" Bunny asked, referring to the black fluid in the orange juice.

"It's Chemical X2. It's rarer than Chemical X and more valuable. I'd say this glass of juice costs a few grands, at least," Dad said with a laugh. "You were running low, Bunny. You were really exerting yourself yesterday. Your blood loss did the rest." Bunny sipped at it, noting how desirable the Chemical X2 was that soon, she was gulping down mouthfuls of it as if there was some hidden desire in her to ingest the stuff. She would later take bites out of her sandwich, her appetite reawakened. She had never enjoyed such a simple pleasure so much before.

"What happened yesterday? How did I end up here?" Bunny asked as she swept crumbs from her chin.

"I can answer that," another person said from the door. A booming, gravelly voice that told of countless harrowing experiences. Bunny looked up to see who it was.

And it turned out to be General Blackwater, dressed in an officer's uniform with a beret.

"How is her wound, professor?" the general asked first.

"It was deep, and by all accounts, Bunny's shoulder was mangled - a normal person would be crippled for life, but not Bunny," Dad explained. He had never taken his eyes off Bunny. He stroked her hair out of adoration for her and Bunny smiled. "It's mostly healed now. Another few hours and she'll be back on her feet. Even Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup would have taken days to come back from this, and a normal human being? Months, maybe. Years, likely."

"Your services are appreciated, Professor Utonium. Now more than ever," General Blackwater said, not unkindly. Bunny's heart leaped, seeing that Dad and General Blackwater were getting along, at least for now. "I need a moment with Bunny if the two of you don't mind."

Selicia held Bunny's right shoulder and squeezed before sauntering out wordlessly.

"I'll see you later, lil' rabbit," the professor said before excusing himself and walking out the door. Bunny thought she saw his expression change. Dad was upset with something and wasn't showing it. It was something Bunny noticed adults do all the time. They knew really well how to hide their emotions. Bunny thought that it was admirable, but at the same time, too mysterious and frustrating, even.

Dad had closed the door behind him, and soon, it was just Bunny and the general. And silence, for a time.

Like Dad before him, General Blackwater marched up to Bunny, who was lying in what was normally Blossom's section of the bed, before sitting down next to her. The bed creaked from the trauma.

"How are you feeling?" the general asked, his voice surprisingly soft. "We were able to shadow you by following the GPS tracker in your armor. We picked you up as soon as we could."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… I did a bad thing yesterday," Bunny said, infantilized by fear. She had become immediately aware of what was going on; what was at stake. This was the general in the room, and she had just failed a mission yesterday. It was her first time, no less, and she didn't know how to deal with it. "Bunny bad!"

"Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time. How are you, Bunny?" the general asked again, taking Bunny by surprise. She didn't expect the general to be calm when she had thrown a mission - a relatively important one at that, too - without following through with it and figuring out what had gone wrong.

Still, she couldn't help but weep and tremble at the thought of having failed the general. This, on top of having experienced some horrifying things even by the standards of an enhanced black ops soldier - it was all coming back to her now. The face-dancer as her flesh molted and bones snapped to change form. Mojo Jojo flying out of the darkness, like a stalker of the dark. General Blackwater, in response to this, took her by her good arm.

"Don't fall apart on me now!" the general bellowed, but not in an angry way. "Stay strong, soldier. Don't let them beat you."

It felt like the general's way of comforting her. Though rough as it was, Bunny appreciated it. She smiled once more.

"My whole body hurts and I don't feel like moving," Bunny finally said.

"How about in an hour or two? Can you do that?" the general asked. It felt like a challenge, a good-natured one at that, something Dad would do while he was teaching her how to ride a bike.

"I'll try," Bunny said, smiling; glad that she wasn't being treated as a liability despite her perceived failure and her very real injury.

"Good. That's the Bunny I know," the general said. He yanked a tissue out of its box on the table next to him and started wiping her face. Despite applying as little force as he could, he was still quite rough; he was unable to help it. "You've overcome obstacles a man in the Special Forces could barely manage. Believe me, I know. This is just a minor setback. Now, talk to me, Bunny. What happened yesterday?"

Bunny thought over everything she had experienced in the Tenements Area. She could only remember bits and pieces at first, but as she got into the groove of it, her memory went into overdrive, enhanced as it was. Soon, it was as clear as day.

"Paul Feig wasn't really Paul Feig," Bunny said.

"What do you mean?" the general clarified.

"When I came in to arrest him, he changed into a woman…" she tried her best to explain it and knew that it wasn't enough. "She said something about 'Him' and her 'gift' and tried to shoot me but I shot her first…"

"The Cult of His Promise," the general surmised. "You mentioned something about 'Jojo' while you were bleeding out last night. Was he there? Mojo Jojo?"

"Yes. He did this to me. He had a gun that fires a big arrow at me…" Bunny explained. "He came out when the fake Paul Feig changed into a woman."

"A rabbit trap, in other words," General Blackwater said. "So, they've finally figured out that you were hunting them down one by one."

"I wish they didn't…" Bunny said. "My arm still hurts."

"Rest, soldier. You've done well," General Blackwater praised the little black operative. "We're leaving in two hours."

"Why?" Bunny asked.

"The Director himself wants to see you, and we'll need to redraw our plans; I think it's time I put you in the officer's room," General Blackwater explained. He pulled something out of his breast pocket. A pair of rank patches bearing two chevrons denoting the corporal rank.

"You're promoting me?" Bunny said rhetorically.

"Obviously."

"But that would mean that I outrank Bubbles and Buttercup…" Bunny mumbled, uncomfortable with the idea. Bubbles had been like a mentor to her, same as Blossom, and when Mom wasn't around, her protective nurturer. Buttercup, well, was Buttercup. Her love and attention were nigh-unattainable, which made it much more sought after. Would becoming a corporal finally make her proud of her, worthy of speaking to? Or would it make her an object of hate and jealousy? Bunny did not know and was almost too afraid to know.

"You've done more than them in a week, and more than what most soldiers could do in a lifetime," General Blackwater said. "You're better than your sisters. You'll soon be commanding them, I'm sure."

"But… I don't want to," Bunny admitted. "Blossom's the leader and…"

"She won't be for much longer. She's made a mess of things, all the time," the general said. "Now rest. You've earned it." With that, the general stood up but felt Bunny's hand around a few of his fingers.

"May I… Get a hug from you?" Bunny requested of the general. He sat back down, and curiously, turned to look at the door. It was still closed.

"Sure," he said, and gingerly leaned in for a quick hug with Bunny. Except she'd held on longer than that, extending it.

For the time being, the darkness was no more.


	105. Chapter 98: Agony

**Chapter 98: Agony**

**B-50 Status Report W2 03051989**

**DOC: 06 MAR (Monday) 1989.**

**Created by: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Bunny's Fall**

I wish I do not have to ever write such a report, but with Bunny taking on the role of all three of her prototype sisters as well as her own, I suppose it is only a matter of time if only because the laws of probability made it inevitable.

Bunny has likely had a run-in with the Chemical W-enhanced chimpanzee named Mojo Jojo. I recognize the principles on which the weapon used to wound Bunny has been designed - there will be more on that later in the addendum.

Bunny was severely injured during her mission. An arrow was shot at her. It managed to pierce her armor and bury itself deep in her shoulder, with the tip of the arrowhead even going through the back of her shoulder, but not completely through.

Bunny has sustained massive bleeding in her injury, losing 40% of her blood volume, measured during prepping for emergency surgery. Had it not been for her enhanced physiology, she would have died within half an hour. What is abnormal is that a wound of this nature, caused by a projectile such as an arrow, is not supposed to cause that much bleeding. The arrow itself is supposed to stem the bleeding. More on that later in the addendum.

Removal of the arrow required a two-hour-long surgery. This is further complicated by the fact that the arrow had gone through Bunny's armor. That it did not go cleanly through compounded the issues I faced during surgery. Furthermore, CT scans revealed several features of the arrow that had hampered extraction efforts. The shaft of the arrow is rougher than usual, and the arrowhead is barbed. Again, I have more details available in the addendum.

As a result of all these surgical obstacles, it became necessary for me to seek out the expertise of the combat engineer in Captain Scott's security detail, Staff Sergeant Nathaniel. With his help and his welding tool, he was able to separate the arrow from Bunny's (un)powered armor by cutting a circular hole around the arrow. The chest piece of Bunny's (un)powered armor was later removed by welder as well. Bunny's natural immunity to extreme heat and fire had allowed for this maneuver without any complications.

From here, there are only two options for the extraction of the arrow. The traditional route is to push the arrow through Bunny's shoulder such that the arrowhead emerges completely from it. The shaft can then be cut and the arrows be pulled out from the entrance wound. The other method, which I hesitated to use, is to cut open Bunny's shoulder entirely and extract the arrow that way. Due to the nature of the projectile, which would have hampered the traditional technique, I opted to open up Bunny's shoulder. The traditional technique would have caused even more massive tissue damage, and complete the already voluminous bleeding that Bunny had endured, risking death.

I would like to extend more credit to Staff Sergeant Nathaniel, as he was thorough in his examination of the arrow and point out that a few missing parts had dislodged at some point after Bunny's trauma. I was able to recover a few mini-sawblades and a small battery from inside Bunny. I believe I have a theory as to why the machinery of the arrow was damaged and shattered. Bunny had either tried to pull the arrow out or had accidentally fallen on it - while I do not know which of this it was, I do know that it had worsened her condition.

Returning to the surgery. The technique I improvised resulted in a further 20% loss of blood. However, Bunny's blood pressure did not fall by any critical amount, just 3-5 mm/Hg. This is likely due to Bunny's enhanced bone marrow producing more blood on overdrive, a phenomenon I have noticed in Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup too, whenever they had lost a huge volume of blood. However, I worked quickly, as if my theories on the way Chemical X, or Chemical X2, functions in the human body, Bunny could still die if her body exhausts its supply of Chemical X2. The use of Chemical X2 is accelerated whenever there is a need for the body to manufacture materials 'out of nowhere'; more Chemical X2 is converted to raw materials than the amount which is pulled from the higher dimensions.

Both Blossom and Bubbles had offered to step forward and donate their blood during the surgery, to their credit. While blood transfusion is certainly standard procedure for patients who have lost 40% or more blood, Bunny, like her older sisters, was an unusual case. While Chemical X and Chemical X2 has rendered the Girls' blood completely universal and fit for transfusion even into each other and even baseline human beings (but not without risk of possible Chemical X poisoning), I have no idea how Chemical X and Chemical X2 will interact in Bunny's bloodstream. In the end, as Bunny's cardiovascular condition was still stable, I decided against blood transfusion.

The surgical operation was almost a dissection. Bunny's shoulder had to be splayed open for me to remove the arrow with any hope of preventing any further damage to the surrounding tissues - though there is still collateral damage - especially to the Subclavian artery and vein, which were already half-ruptured because of the arrow. The surrounding musculature had sustained the most trauma, but that was the least of my worries. Thankfully, her bone was untouched.

It took more time for me to stitch her back together than it did for me to open her up.

The surgery began at 2319 on 05 MAR 1989 and ended at 0133 the following day. At 0735, I performed another CT scan on her shoulder wound to check for any potential complications or possible mistakes in my procedure. Sometimes, the speed at which I perform these surgeries scare even myself, not to toot my own horn.

What I found was the opposite. The wound appeared to be about two weeks old by that time, which is a testament to her healing factor. By my calculation, she will already have recovered enough by the time this report is finished at around 0750 such that she can be moved even roughly without complications. Near-total recovery is projected at around 1150, at which point she would have been discharged from a hospital had she been a patient there. Any trace of the wound after that will be minor. Scar tissues will disappear within the next few hours.

**Addendum: The Agony Bolt**

There is no other name more fitting for the arrow than 'Agony Bolt'. As mentioned earlier in this report, I believe it is the work of Mojo Jojo, that damned monkey that used to be my adopted friend. It is, unfortunately, designed with my core principles in mind.

'If you want to do something, make sure you put your heart and soul into it.' That was what I used to tell him. I believe in quality and perfection. Apparently, so does he. A regular Foundation engineer would have slapped together an improvised, barely-working single-use model, as their principles are all about preserving resources, time, and secrecy. Mojo Jojo would have perfected a design before crafting it with absolute care.

The arrow itself is an object of terrifying implications. The arrowhead is made of Duranium, which means that it is designed with no purpose other than to injure my children. Where he has procured the Duranium from, I have no idea. The arrow is also barbed, meant to make removal on the battlefield impossible without further injury and excruciating pain; removal in surgery was a pain in and of itself.

The shaft is aluminum, designed to be lightweight, the same as any regular arrows. However, what is found in the shaft is anything but normal. The shaft is hollow, with numerous slits from which sawblades could emerge and spin. The sawblades are aluminum, likely so that they are lightweight. This meant that they would not have damaged Bunny internally. However, their spinning would have caused an immense amount of pain, on top of the excruciating pain of being pierced by a large projectile. On taking apart the arrow, I discovered an axle and two motors inside, which are likely used to drive the sawblades.

However, that is not the end of it. There is a battery in the arrow shaft as well, which is likely what powers the sawblades across the shaft. On dissecting the battery, I discovered that it is powered by none other than Chemical W-laced blood, which has been refined to increase the concentration of Chemical W. This is likely done through simple evaporation after the blood is laced with anti-clotting agents. Mojo Jojo bled himself to hurt others. I did not teach him that.

If only that was the end of it, but it is not. The battery was dislodged and found in Bunny, but there are still copper wires attached to it. Following this clue, I discovered copper wires running in the shaft as well, which are attached to electrodes across the shaft. Bunny was electrocuted during or shortly after she was shot with the arrow. The immense power from the Chemical-W blood battery meant that the shock must have been intense. The level of depravity inherent in the arrow's design is disconcerting.

Lastly, the back end of the arrow is actually covered in the residue of spent gunpowder. When I performed a test to identify Chemical W in the substance out of a hunch, I did indeed find traces of Chemical W. This explains how the arrow could have penetrated Bunny's armor and shoulder. The arrow was likely shot like a bullet out of a gun. In normal, mundane designs, this wouldn't have worked very well, but with the use of gunpowder laced with Chemical W, the force would have been immense, enough to drive the arrow through Kevlar, then the flesh of an enhanced being.

In summary, the 'Agony Bolt' is the perfect projectile designed to inflict maximum injury, agony, and terror.

Mojo Jojo should be wiped off the face of the Earth for what he did to Bunny.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1234.**

Director Cliff's loud, bellowing voice could be heard even before General Blackwater and Bunny had entered his personal office. Someone was on the business end of an artillery bombardment of the harshest language known to humanity, and even when Bunny wasn't using her enhanced hearing, she could tell that it was unpleasant, and she was thankful that she was too tired to even want to eavesdrop on the unkindness of the director of the USDO.

They stopped outside the door. Bunny was thankful, once again, that the glass on the door was frosted. She didn't want to see the horror unfolding within. It was enough that she could see someone inside aggressively gesticulating and pointing fingers at a besieged recipient, who she was starting to feel sorry for despite knowing nothing about him - or her.

"Before you go in, Bunny, let me warn you about a few things so that you'll be prepared," General Blackwater got down and told Bunny. When was the last time he tried to speak on the same level and terms as her? Bunny could appreciate the gesture. "The Director - Director Cliff - he's a demanding man, a stern man, and he's… unkind, ruthless. But just remember that he's on our side, and he's one of the good guys. He's made sacrifices, made some really tough decisions for years, and lost a lot of things personally, so his… behavior is not exactly unreasonable."

"You mean he's like you?" Bunny said. At first, Blackwater thought she was mouthing off, perhaps out of bitterness, but the look on her face was too innocent and unguarded for that.

"Something like me, yes," the general admitted. "But we're two very different people. I'm willing to tolerate him and take orders from him because I know that he's on my side and highly competent. You should too. Bear with him, and continue with your duties after that."

Cue the door opening, and a woman clambering out from it as if a survivor of some natural disaster. A sobbing mess, she squeezed past General Blackwater without noticing him nor Bunny. It wasn't a good sign at all, and Bunny was further intimidated by what she must face. The woman was someone none of them had really met before. She was an administrator, caught in the wrong place and the wrong time.

"Now get the hell out of my office!" Director Cliff shouted from the inside so loud that Bunny could hear it from outside even without her turning up her enhanced hearing.

There were hurried footsteps after that, and the door opened once again. Chief of Intelligence Rook turned out to be one of those getting flogged by the Director's voice. The other was a man Bunny was unfamiliar with. Someone in tactical gear had graying hair and steely eyes. He was wiping the Director's saliva off his shades as he was walking out. This man, whom Bunny did not know was Agent Blake, looked down at her. They made eye contact but did not speak to each other as it wasn't the best time for it.

When the door was closed, General Blackwater knocked on it again.

"Get in here, now!" the beast within screamed, as if he knew who was outside. He might have, considering that he had a camera monitor in his office.

"I'll be waiting outside, Bunny. Go," the general said as he gently nudged Bunny towards the door.

It wasn't very often that Bunny felt weakness in her knees. This was one of those times, despite the lack of enemies to shoot at, and the lack of enemies shooting at her. It was worse than that.

The moment the door was closed, Bunny could feel her heart skip a beat, as though she was trapped.

"You!" Director Cliff snarled at the little form standing in the center of his office as he narrowed his eyes in pure hatred and disgust. Picking up a marble paperweight, he hurled it at Bunny. The heavy object struck her in the forehead, bouncing off. Bunny didn't dodge it, partly out of shock, but also because she didn't expect it from someone who was on the side of good, nor did she even dare to dodge it.

"Ow! Bunny shouted as she shielded her face prematurely, afraid that the Director was going to hurl something else at her. She'd seen his hand resting on something on his desk - but it turned out to be a trick of the light.

"Don't you start!" the Director yelled. "Get over here!"

Bunny obeyed him without question, even though the way he'd set the mood had frightened her. She'd caught him in a bad mood, and that was a severe understatement. The man was panting, like an overheating furnace. And like a furnace, Bunny could almost feel the heat coming off him, and his face was red. More than that, he looked like he was about to have a heart attack then and there.

"Do you know what you've done!?" the Director hollered at the now-shaking Bunny.

"I failed my objective…" Bunny said, using textbook words General Blackwater had taught her. There was some comfort in it, as textbook words tend to be impersonal. But no comfort was enough for her in the face of the Director.

"You're God-damn right you did!" the Director slammed his fist on his desk. "Oh, but if only you've just failed your objective, that would have been well and good. But no! You have no idea what you've done!"

Director Cliff circled around his desk, getting up close and personal with Bunny. Bunny shrunk from him as he got closer, but she didn't dare back away for fear of reprisals.

"You!" he pinned a finger on her armor, which hadn't been repaired at all even after the damage it sustained in her mission and the surgery after that. Half the chest plate was missing. "You've compromised everything!" He continued stabbing her with his finger. "I'll tell you what you've done! They know about you now. You were our deadliest weapon, our secret weapon. You let it go to your head and now… I'm not sure what you are anymore!"

Going back to his desk, he picked something up and showed it to Bunny. It was the front page of the day's morning newspaper. The headlines, like Director Cliff, screamed at Bunny:

**FOURTH POWERPUFF GIRL SIGHTED RUNNING IN TENEMENTS**

**CONSPIRACY TURNED FACT: USDO'S NEWEST KILLING MACHINE**

**IS THE USDO RESPONSIBLE FOR THE COP-KILLER OF '89? - AN EDITORIAL**

But that wasn't all. There were pictures of her on the front page too, one that was taken from behind her, and another ahead - with her face visible. They were low quality and grainy, but it was unmistakably her, taken while she was running away from the mission, an arrow stuck to her chest, tail tucked between her legs, like a rabbit hopping away from a predator. Bunny couldn't remember seeing cameras - she could barely even remember her traumatic escape.

"Now the whole world knows about you! This is a PR nightmare! Even our allies will be at our throats!" Director Cliff continued raving. "All because you got scared and ran away!" And with that, when Bunny least expected it, the Director threw the newspaper in her face. So shocking and hurtful was it, combined with his previous words and abuses, that it made Bunny sob, her face scrounged up in misery as tears started to run.

The Director had turned his back on her as the dam began to broke, but the moment he heard her sobbing, he turned around, angrier still, if it was even possible.

"Stop crying! You don't get to do that!" he snarled at her, and when Bunny couldn't control herself, he gave her a tight slap across her cheek, which hurt his hand. He rubbed it as he continued: "I said stop your mewling! There's still more- oh FORGET it! Get out! I'm done with you!"

"I'm- s- sorry-" Bunny mewled while she was still trying to wipe away her tears with her gloves, but there was always more. The Director would not hear of it, and instead took her by the upper arm, turned her around and started pushing her towards the door.

"Out! Out! OUT!" Cliff shouted as he kept pushing Bunny, whose apologies continued to fall on deaf ears, towards the door.

Director Cliff opened his door and thrust Bunny out of it. Leaning halfway out, he made eye contact with General Blackwater. He pointed at him as if marking him for execution. "I want you to scrap your war plan and redraw it from the ground up! And make it simple enough for that stupid bitch to follow! If she fails again, you take that lab rabbit out of my headquarters and shoot her!"

With that, the Director slams his door shut. He wasn't done hollering, however, as he could still be heard from the inside.

Corporal Nana Weston had joined General Blackwater while he was waiting for Director Cliff to be done with Bunny. Upon seeing her, Bunny had latched onto her, crying into her uniform.

"I heard about what happened," Nana said to the general.

"At least that part's over now," the general said to her in turn. "Why don't you spend some time with Bunny? It's lunch hour."

Nana stooped down and gave Bunny a hug. "You heard that, sugar? It's lunch hour. How about if we grab something to eat?"

"I don't wanna…" Bunny sobbed, rubbing her eyes as tears wouldn't stop falling. "I don't wanna do anything!"

"You know, I heard baby carrots are on the menu today," Nana tried to coax Bunny again.

"R-Really?" Bunny asked in between sobs, wiping another stray streak of tears away. Dad had talked about baby carrots before and how nice they would go with any dish. He hadn't gotten around to making it yet though.

"Yeah, and mash potatoes, yogurt, and fruits. It's all to combat this terrible thing we adults face called 'Monday Blues'," Nana said with a smile. "How about it?"

"Okay…" Bunny finally said, her sobs reduced to sniffles. It was like being with Dad and Mom again, except with Nana and Blackwater acting like her mom and dad.

"C'mon, smile a little," Nana said. With a finger, she pulled one side of Bunny's lips into a smile. It tickled, so the enhanced girl did so anyway. "There, that's much better. We're having lamb chops today - perfect for soldiers like you and me. Come on then, let's hop to it!"

With that, Nana held hands with Bunny and led her towards the cafeteria, ignoring stares from her colleagues, some of whom hated enhanced individuals like Bunny with a passion.

After lunch, General Blackwater would begin planning his future operations anew, and Bunny was involved, but there was little that she could say beyond nodding her head. Having been through the catastrophe that was Director Cliff, she was afraid of making any decisions or suggestions, or saying no to whatever trials they wanted to put her through.

From there, Bunny knew that things had changed from here onwards and that some of the challenges she would face in the future would be done so out in the open and in the light, just like how Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup used to do things and will continue to do things.

If anything, Bunny had done more to learn than to participate in the strategizing. She had learned about why Chief of Intelligence Rook had ended up like her. As it turned out, he had fallen for the bait just like she did. His men had been following Police Chief Feig around the previous day, the whole day - to his home near the TPD HQ, then to a bar, and finally to the Tenement District. He had theorized that the fake Feig had switched places with the real Feig in the bar, likely in the washroom as he had agents in the bar as well. The only blind spot had been the washroom - he theorized that his men couldn't enter it in time to witness the switch. By the time they got in, 'Feig' was already leaving his stall.

Bunny had also learned the identity of the other man who was with Rook. Agent Blake. General Blackwater had introduced him as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's former lead 'bodyguard'. Now, he had been taking on missions on the fringes of Townsville. Where the Powerpuff Girls were not available, he would pick up the slack and never once did he fail, at least until yesterday. He was the closest unit to the fake Feig's location, but by the time he'd reached the abandoned luxury apartment, almost everyone was gone. There was no Mojo Jojo, no 'face-dancer', and the majority of the Lombardi guards were ghost. He was only able to apprehend a few stragglers who had made the mistake of going for their drug stash first. He wasn't able to even make them talk, as they were low-level enforcers who knew nothing except to guard their area and grunt at orders. It was a total bust.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1442.**

After planning their operations, General Blackwater led Bunny to his office. Seating her down on the guest chair, he pulled a wooden case out of a drawer and put it down in front of her. The box was ornate, held close by equally well-crafted metal parts.

"Open it," he ordered the newly-promoted corporal. Bunny did as she was told, undoing the clasp on the wooden box and snapping it open. There was a combat knife with brown sheathe and handle inside, on a purple velvet pillow. "It's yours."

"Why? I failed-" Bunny said, but the general put up a hand to stop her from going on.

"That's the Director's word, not mine. You didn't fail. You were ambushed. I think it's victory enough that you've denied the enemy your death," General Blackwater said.

"But Mister Cliff said I've ruined everything," Bunny said, still discouraged by what she'd experienced in Cliff's office.

"I've told you that we're two very different people. I don't believe that. I think the war is evolving as it always did. It's time for you to go… 'conventional'. You'll be taking on more missions out in the public," Blackwater explained. "Why don't you try holding that knife? Get a feel of it and see if it fits you."

Bunny picked up the knife from the box. The first thing she noticed was that it was lighter than her own, despite being nearly the same size. Pulling the knife out of its sheathe, she immediately noticed that the blade was made of Duranium, based on its unnatural reflections. In fact, the longer she stared at it, the brighter it seemed to shine; her Duranium-sight was awakening.

"But- It's Duranium," Bunny said. "You said it's rare and - where did you get it from?"

"You see that spear mounted on the wall behind me?" General Blackwater pointed behind him with his thumb. "The metal's from that antique." Bunny stared at the spear. It still had a spear point - but how was it possible? That conundrum, however, didn't last very long in her mind. The spear point's shine was pure white, unchanging. It was dull compared to the Duranium combat knife in her hand. General Blackwater had commissioned a fake speartip to replace the one that was removed. "Remember that story I told you about the monster in that Egyptian desert temple? That was the spear I used to slay it."

"Anyway, I took the Duranium from that antique and had it reforged by The Institute. The spear tip was big enough for two knives," the general explained.

"But if it's big enough for two knives… Where's the second one?" Bunny asked, this time out of curiosity. The general then pulled open another drawer and took his utility belt out before dumping it in front of her. There was a knife sheathed on it. He pulled that out briefly to reveal the blade. Bunny caught a glimpse of it: Duranium.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Bunny said, still unable to believe how kind the general was, despite everything.

"You are a soldier under my command," the general said, looking away, as if afraid of making eye contact with her. Bunny found it odd. He was usually stern and unyielding, especially in the way he approached people. He tended to stare them down, establish his authority that way. His eyes were like cannons; his face the steel hull of a ship. Yet now, he wasn't himself. "A very important one. You were injured while carrying out my orders. Severely injured… under my command, my care."

"Does that mean every soldier under your command gets a present?" Bunny wondered with a smile. That the general seemed to care about her aside, the thought of a present-dispensing general was interesting to her. The thought of the general acting like Santa was funny. It was a shame she was born just a scant couple of months after Christmas - she couldn't wait to celebrate it this year! She had heard about it from Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, and it sounded like fun.

"No, not really," the general said, then looked at his watch. "Seems like time's flying like a jet. I'll drive you back home."

With that, the general got off his chair and started leading Bunny towards the motor pool of the HQ. Yet, Bunny had even more questions, more to talk about. Why was he spending so much time on her? Wasn't a general supposed to be busy leading his troops, especially during a war?


	106. Chapter 99: Feathered Wings

**Chapter 99: Feathered Wings**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1528.**

The moment General Blackwater pulled up his humvee at The House, stopping his entire motorcade of two other Humvees and an APC, Bunny got out of the front passenger seat and ran towards the garage. She had been worried about one other thing during the trip. Pressing the door button, the garage shutter began rolling up, but it was slow and it'd kept Bunny in suspense, so much so that when she was able, she ducked under the garage shutter so that she could see.

She had expected it to be gone forever. She remembered the crash on the highway, the high impact force, and the violence involved. But then there it was, standing by the family sedan, all fixed up and ready to go. It was her motorbike. She remembered metal denting and machine breaking, and yet here it stood, in one piece, as if never violated by that crash on the highway.

What was more, Blossom was standing beside it, along with a pail full of gray water. She had been cleaning the engine of the motorcycle when Bunny came in.

Bunny was stunned. Why would she be doing anything for her after the hostilities of the previous day?

"Hey, Bunny," Blossom said, sounding a little dejected, if contrite. "Listen, I-"

"Well, well, well," General Blackwater had come through, interrupting Blossom. "If it isn't that little bike. Looks like motorpool really did pull an all-nighter fixing it up for you, under my orders of course."

"General Blackwater!" Blossom gasped; she didn't expect the general to be visiting so soon. He had never really visited before Bunny came along, but it seemed as if he was here almost every other day ever since she came into the picture.

"Bravo-Four-Seven. Otherwise known as Blossom Utonium," the general said sternly. Blossom knew what it meant. Bunny had such a good impression of the general that she didn't think anything was going to happen. "Since you're here, I might as well spill it. Your performance has been terrible, your strategy and tactics substandard. A mule would make a better leader than you." Putting a hand on Bunny's head, he went on: "I've just promoted Bunny here to the rank of provisional corporal. She'll be acting as your second-in-command from now on. You keep this up, Blossom, and soon she'll be replacing you as the leader of the Powerpuff Girls, and you'll be listening to her from then on."

Bunny stared at Blossom, uncomfortable that General Blackwater had put down Blossom in front of her, all to prop her up. It wasn't what she wanted; in fact, it was the very last thing she wanted. Blossom's smile had faded long ago. There had been sunshine and rainbows in her, but now it was gone, replaced by more storm clouds. Blossom stared at Bunny as though she had committed the gravest act of betrayal.

"Yes, General Blackwater," Blossom said emotionlessly and monotonously, while her eyes were still fixed on Bunny's, at risk of emitting a pair of heat beams.

"Good. Oh, and by the way, I'm putting you, Bubbles, and Buttercup back on duty starting tomorrow. The police want to continue working with the three of you - for some reason," the general said before turning around and leaving. But before he completely disappeared through the shutter, he took one sideways glance at Blossom, pinning her with his eyes, before going away forever, leaving Blossom and Bunny alone.

Bunny folded her arms and hunched her back, suddenly feeling a cold, but it was more of a feeling of vulnerability more than anything. Before her stood an angry Blossom but was worse was that she had been so close to reconciliation - again. It felt as if whatever hope there was of a wholesome sisterly relationship between them was dashed - along with both Blossom's dignity as the leader of the Powerpuff Girls, and her chance to live the life of a normal little girl.

"It isn't what I want," Bunny said. "Blossom, please don't be mad."

"I've washed your bike. I thought I'd do something nice for you," Blossom said, with none of the joy that usually entailed such a task. "Have fun with it." And with that, she took off and floated away with her pail and rag in hand.

"Blossom, please! I'm sorry!" Bunny pleaded desperately with her, but Blossom didn't stop; she had either ignored her or didn't hear altogether.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1613.**

After encountering Blossom's cold temper, Bunny had also no luck engaging Buttercup after that. She continued to hide in the walk-in closet, obsessively whispering about 'a friend' and holding onto 'Blankie', and when Bunny opened the door and sat in the walk-in closet to join her, she was almost immediately shooed out - and that was Buttercup being nice. Bunny was just glad that she was beaten up and cast out of the dark closet for her trespasses. Was it a sign that Buttercup was mellowing out and beginning to tolerate her? Bunny could only wait and see.

Bubbles, as usual, was there to save the day. Dragging a dejected Bunny out into the snow-covered backyard, wearing their winter outfits, they played with the slowly-diminishing stock of snow at first, throwing snowballs at each other, building a snowman and even a snow fort, like what Bunny always wanted to do, but the biggest attraction was her continued lessons on flight.

"You know, Blossom, Buttercup, and I used to play with the snow a lot," Bubbles said, just before they started.

"Really?" Bunny couldn't believe it. She'd hardly seen them do that, though she had some ideas as to why.

"We've changed, I guess," Bubbles said, then smiled. "But I'm glad I got to play with you!"

"Me too," Bunny said, before giving her a warm hug. With how cold it was, it felt good, but the fact that at least one of her sisters actually wanted her to exist felt way better. They got to work on the flight lesson after that. Bubbles would demonstrate with some tricks she'd learned here and there.

She kicked herself off into a floating position before lifting herself up further, putting extra strain on the 'wings' on her legs. Her leg would be surrounded by a bright blue light that day, to demonstrate that the energy ought to be released from the legs. When she started flying in circles, she did the same thing, forming a bright, baby blue streak far more luminescent than usual, expending much energy. Bubbles then repeated this, but with her arms, showing that the thrust could come from any part of the body. She would then demonstrate how, through the use of both the arms and legs and even the hips and back, how flight control could be achieved.

She was like an angel, flying like a dove on wings of blue light…

"Just point your feet at wherever you want to leave! And point your arms at where you want to go!" Bubbles shouted down from a floating position several floors up. Bunny nodded, and after bending her knees to an almost crouching position, she sprung up high into the air like some overamped rabbit. But something was wrong; the X-thrust in her feet wouldn't last. She couldn't see any light emanating from her feet. She would have fallen had she not done a 'double-hop' in mid-air, pushing herself to greater heights.

But she wasn't flying, and when she started falling again, she got afraid and applied the same X-thrust, effectively doing a 'triple-hop'. Bubbles had to catch her before she fell, latching onto her back and giving her the mid-air buoyancy she was so desperately trying to achieve.

"It's okay to be afraid," Bubbles said. "I think that's how I learned how to fly fast. If you're afraid of falling, you won't fall, I guess…"

Bubbles stuttered after that. She wasn't sure how to describe the feeling of flight any better. For a moment, they hovered in mid-air as Bubbles thought of a way. "Urm… It's like you have to keep your legs stretched, like before you're going for a jog? Only, not too much, I think."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1652.**

While Bubbles was teaching Bunny the art of flying, Professor Utonium and Sergeant Goodwin had been watching from the balcony. They huddled together, in each other's arms, as they watch contentedly their meekest children being themselves and enjoying the moment.

"Aren't they beautiful?" the professor said as he gave Selicia a smack of his lips on her cheek.

"Yeah, Bunny's going to need it. She hasn't been having fun lately," Selicia said. "Good for Bubbles, I guess, for doing her job as an older sister. I just wish Buttercup would do something like this a little more often."

"You still haven't forgotten about Bubbles' drug problem, have you?" the professor said. "She's working really hard to avoid 'His Secret' - too hard, I think. I wish she'd talk to me more about it."

"She nearly killed you," Selicia said. "I can't forget that. I can't forgive her, either, no matter how much I try. Alcohol doesn't work either. I'd have to drink myself to death before it can change my mind about Bubbles."

"She was manipulated, sweetheart. You know how children are - they shouldn't be out there, for the same reasons why other parents don't leave their children alone whenever they go shopping in the mall," the professor said. He held her hand, squeezing it. "I don't blame you for being mad at her even after all this time. I think I would be too… If Bubbles tried to kill you - drugs or not. Love can blind you sometimes."

And Selicia had nothing to say to that. Beyond the surface, the professor still had no idea what she really thought of the Girls. She was still a woman full of mysteries. The professor had heard the stories, that she used to be a jewel thief coming close to working for the Foundation on a permanent basis only to be recruited by the Organization of the past. Even now, after living with her for a few months, he hadn't learned nearly enough. It was only because he was so smitten with love that he'd decided to jump the gun and get hitched with her.

Speaking of getting hitched…

"How are the cards coming along?" the professor asked.

"I've already mailed them out," Selicia said.

"I didn't think you meant it literally when you said you'd do it 'ASAP'," the professor said, surprised. Out in the backyard, Bunny continued to blunder in her attempts to fly, but at least she hadn't fallen flat on the ground yet. Instead, she was launching herself in random directions as she attempted to exert a constant X-thrust, only to fall short and end up with more mid-air hops instead, though the purple light emanating from her feet seemed to be shining longer with every next explosion of energy.

"The cards should be in the hands of our guests by now," Selicia added.

"Whoa. Just whoa. That's really 'ASAP'," the professor said, even more surprised. Selicia had started work on the cards two days ago, when they came in by delivery, and she had only started work on them at night back then. "But… how?"

"I got my friends in the security department to deliver the wedding cards," Selicia said. "The midnight shift security detail brought it back to HQ, and the administration department handed them out when their shift started in the morning. It must be news to them - the lecherous Selicia doing the impossible: getting married. Imagine the surprise."

"I guess that's one advantage of being an outcast. You don't have to mail those cards out to the far reaches of the planet. Sure makes planning the wedding easier when everyone I know comes from the USDO," Selicia went on.

"That makes the two of us…" the professor mumbled, his mind wandering back to his family, somehow, even when he'd said so many times that he would have nothing more to do with them. They were a proud military family. His father, Caleb Ulysses Upton, was in the USMC. He'd fought in World War Two, the Korean War and the Vietnam War and only retired by the end of it. His mother had served as a nurse in World War Two before becoming a typist in peacetime. She knew the horrors of the war against the Nazis, and nothing would shake her belief that wars, battles, guns, armies, and violence were necessary to turn the tide against evil. As for him, Thomas Lewis Upton - he resented it all so much that he had been called a disappointment all his life, even when he'd practically become the Einstein of his generation, standing next to the likes of Stephen Hawking, James Watson, and Francis Crick literally and figuratively.

Even Eugene Abraham Upton, his dearest brother, would eventually learn to hate him. For almost two good decades, they were inseparable; they were each other's best friend. Whenever one brother faltered, the other would pull him up. Thomas would help with his homework and Eugene would help him fend off the bullies. Thomas would verbally summarize Eugene's textbooks for him while Eugene would coach him in athleticism. At high school, Thomas was once beaten up and left for dead in the countryside by a group of hooligans without even the clothes on his back to survive with. Eugene would singlehandedly round them up, threaten them with pa's old revolver even if he could go to jail for it, before finding him and bringing him back, sick and a little worse for wear, but alive. Thomas would then repay the favor by helping Eugene win the heart of his future wife, helping him with the gestures, the little gifts and lines of poetry, and even setting in motion 'coincidences' that would force them to meet. Thomas would even help plan his dates. Eugene, being basically Tarzan in real life, would have been lost without him.

For a while, Thomas had like Eugene for who he was - a bit of a hippy, a wildman, and almost insane to the extreme as an anarchist. But as time passed, he began drifting towards his father and by the time the US entered the Vietnam War, he was already neck-deep in the muddy slosh of the military. The last time they were face-to-face, Eugene had called Thomas, in no uncertain terms and using the exact words, a coward, a hypocrite, a useless pacifist, and a traitor who should be shot. They'd fought and of course, Thomas lost that fight despite being the older brother. They never spoke again after that. They didn't even write to one another, and it had been more than two decades since the professor had cut all ties with his family. Sure, he'd met and written to his parents a few times after that, but those were as rare as solar eclipses.

And even now, Professor Utonium had no intention of ever introducing Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup, Bunny, and Selicia to his biological family, not during the wedding, and not even after that. Not ever.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1659.**

Bunny was still confused by Bubbles' instructions, but with time, she was starting to get it. By 'stretching her legs', Bunny realized that Bubbles meant exerting her legs. By 'wishing to be able to fly like Peter Pan's friends', Bunny realized that she meant focusing her mind and intention. Now, it was only a matter of practice, but she was making progress - the last time she tried flying on her own, she was able to push herself straight up for a minute before losing control. She'd let herself fall that way so that Bubbles could catch her.

"Okay, Bunny. Push yourself up like the last time, just keep that same feeling in your legs there, and don't forget to put your hands up, you know, like when you're jumping with joy!" Bubbles instructed her younger sister while she was still carrying her, holding her waist from behind. Bunny struggled to understand her instructions and how it related to controlling her Chemical X2. Blossom was better at teaching, but with the rift between them that was widening, she wasn't an option. "Don't be scared. I'll stay with you so you won't fall all the way down to the ground."

But she was getting used to Bubbles' expressions. On the other hand, Bunny enjoyed Bubbles' company. She didn't want to fail her because of how much she cared about her.

Bunny began flying again, straight up because it was easier without having to worry about control. Her X-thrust was weak at first, but she was just warming up. Soon, she was shooting upwards, slow compared to her smaller elder sisters, but she was beating her own record. Soon, she was flying for a minute, then one and half. It became two, then three. Looking down, she could see the whole neighborhood, the houses and vehicles getting smaller and starting to resemble toys.

"I'm doing it! I'm flying!" Bunny exclaimed in joy. 'Jumping with joy' was right, and now she was flying with joy.

"Great! Now push your legs back just a teeny weeny bit!" Bubbles said. Bunny did not understand at first, but she decided to try something - anything she thought was right - just so she could taste the drug of progress and triumph again. Even completing missions didn't give her the kind of innocent euphoria that finally learning something about flying did.

Bunny curled her legs up. Both of them screamed when they started plunging downwards at high speeds.

"Put them forward! Your legs - forward!" Bubbles screamed in shock. Bunny undid her stance at first, but it did nothing to slow her ascend. Then it suddenly clicked in her, and Bunny put her feet forward. This slowed her descend, and soon, they were ascending again.

"You did it! You're learning how to control yourself!" Bubbles praised her again. From then on, it was smooth sailing from there. Having learned her lesson from their near-disaster, Bunny changed her stance much more gently from then on. A slight curl in her legs was enough to direct the force she was exerting on herself to cause her to descend. A few degrees forward did the same when it came to ascending.

Furthermore, she had learned by accident how to control herself using her arms and the rest of her body. Bubbles had been right; fear of falling had been the trigger, and with some practice, she had learned to harness it to help control the forces the rest of her body was giving out. Most of this was upward forces to buoy her up. With enough flight time, even her arms were helping with forward motion and directional control.

After that, after interpreting Bubbles' instructions once more, which were becoming easier to understand, Bunny learned how to float on the spot, as if a swimmer treading water in the middle of a lake.

'It's the same as flying, but easier,' Bubbles had said. 'Just don't push so hard, and open up your legs - it helps with balancing so you don't turn upside-down!'

Before long, Bunny and Bubbles were flying side-by-side, though Bubbles had to keep slowing down and Bunny had to keep trying to catch up. Neither of them minded though; they were just having fun. Before the training started, Bunny had this overwhelming fear of flight. Now, she didn't want to go back down. But all good things had to come to an end; flying was tiring, after all, a drain on her already-diminished Chemical X2, and Bunny finally touched down like a Harrier Jump Jet.

"Hey, Bunny, you wanna hover all the way to our room?" Bubbles offered.

"Sure," Bunny was all too happy to accept it, so together, they floated their way through the back of The House and into the living room. Bunny was still unsteady as she was still learning how to control herself, but she was leaps and bounds better than she was just an hour ago.

By this time, Dad and Mom were already in the living room, just in time to see Bunny hovering in proudly, triumphantly. Dad had been reading a science journal, and Mom the newspaper.

"Aw, isn't that sweet!" Dad said. "Bubbles' stepping up as an elder sister, and Bunny's growing up so fast!"

"Yes, it is," Mom agreed, though the look she was giving Bubbles didn't convey the same meaning.

"Look, Dad, I'm flying!" Bunny exclaimed excitedly, happy that Dad was proud of her. She accelerated towards before stopped in front of her and letting herself fall into his lap. She landed heavily there, thankfully without her armor, weapons, and gear, but the professor still had to stifle a shout of pain.

"Good job, baby Bunny," he said, at first smiling bitterly from the pain, but when it faded, it was one that spread from ear to ear. Then something came to mind, something very important. "You know, I have a surprise waiting for you down in the labs. My, you're all sweaty - how about if you wash up a little and come join me downstairs by my desk? And take your time - give your slow and plodding old man a fighting chance!" the professor laughed. Putting Bunny on the floor, he began walking towards the airlock leading into the lab.

Bunny wiped some sweat off her brows. Dad had been right - she was all sweaty. She had been having so much fun that she had forgotten just how exhausted she was.

"Listen to your Dad. Run along now," Mom said. She had just started reading the newspaper. Not wanting to disappoint her, Bunny flew towards the second floor, trying her best not to blow a hole through the ceiling by carefully exerting herself. But something was wrong. Bubbles wasn't following. She turned to look and saw that Bubbles was still on the first floor. Bubbles was looking at her too but then gestured for her to leave her behind. When she was done, she climbed up the sofa and embraced Mom while she was still reading and wasn't paying her any attention. Mom, instead of returning the gesture, threw Bubbles aside but didn't so much as paid more attention to her than the newspaper.

Bunny retreated deeper into the overlooking corridor before either sister or mother could look up at her, afraid that she might somehow offend either of them. It was strange, the way they interacted. Shouldn't Mom be showing Bubbles some affection?

Regardless of whatever answer she might find, understanding their odd behavior would have to come later. She still had to follow Dad's orders and find the 'surprise', whatever it might be, waiting for her downstairs.

Walking towards the washroom, Bunny found that walking now seemed slow compared to flying, or even hovering, so she kicked herself up into a floating position once again before hovering towards the washroom. She was aching, but the thrill of flying more than made up for it - that was until she was about midway towards the washroom, she started feeling a sharp pain in her chest, and she collapsed on the floor, on her knees.

Bunny couldn't help but cough dryly, each cough harder than the last, hacking. She felt like vomiting, but with lunch many hours away, there was nothing to vomit. Holding back the gag reflex, she coughed one more time and felt something spattering her hand. Withdrawing it, she saw spatters of blood. She could taste it in her mouth, metallic and bitter. Bunny froze. She felt as if she was being watched. Looking all around her, however, she saw nothing. Afraid that someone might see her like this, she ran the rest of the way to the washroom and locked the door behind her.

Setting up a stool, she looked herself in the mirror to find blood dribbling down her lips, down her chin. Shocked, she washed both her hands and face. She coughed again, and whatever blood that remained in her mouth was spat out. She washed her mouth, and when she spat the water out, it'd come out reddish and ominous. Bunny gasped. What's happening to her?

Dad. He would know! Running out of the washroom, Bunny descended the stairs, then down to the labs. When she reached the foot of the stairs, she could see Dad in the far end of the large laboratory, putting something metallic and thin on a pedestal, which was standing on a table. Confused, she walked up to him, and he smiled back at her. When she'd reached Dad, he picked her up and sat her down on the table, right beside the pedestal holding the metallic strips of… something.

"Do you know what this is, Bunny?" Dad asked her. Bunny shook her head, confused. The professor picked it up, showing the curvature of the metallic strip, and the metallic wires lining one side of the strange device. Also, there were two of them. "These are what you call braces. They're for your teeth - they'd make them straight and neat, just like your sisters'. I've been drafting a new design specifically for you. Your toughness would make normal braces useless as they wouldn't be strong enough. Normal braces would eventually bend and break instead of setting your teeth straight."

"So I've added reinforcement to the structures here - and I've swapped the metal for Duranium," The professor continued showing Bunny his invention, pointing out the different parts of the braces. "It's going to cost a bomb, but if the USDO is willing to approve of hair-styling scissors made of Duranium, I'm sure they'd approve of this. All I have to do is send my little prototype here to the Institute, and they'd hammer out a Duranium copy of this. You could be wearing your very own braces by the end of the week!"

Bunny smiled, but it didn't last long. The fact that she had coughed up blood earlier was still fresh on her mind. The professor saw this and wondered what was wrong.

"Bunny, listen," he went on, before putting a hand on her chin and turning her head up so that they could make eye contact. Putting both his hands on her shoulders, he went on. "Yesterday was a close call. W-when I saw you yesterday, all bloody and unconscious in Lieutenant Blake's arms, I thought I'd lost you. I wanted to cry and scream - but you were alive. You're a survivor, you tough little nut, and so I helped you along the way."

"I- I'm sorry you have to bear this responsibility. I'm sorry that I created you to act as- as cannon fodder in place of your elder sisters. I've been remarkably selfish - I'm sorry for everything," Dad confessed, tears prickling his eyes and overflowing. Bunny was shocked that someone so strong like her Dad could cry.

"But I'm not sorry," Bunny struggled to speak. "I want to protect you, and Mom, and Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup."

"Just… be careful, okay? Don't forget that you still have to come home to the family you're protecting," Dad said, sniffling and managing to finally bring his emotions under control. "I don't know what I'd do if I lose you too. I think I'd die of grief. Every single time you go out, I feel like I'd go insane…"

"Dad, I…" Bunny wanted to finally talk about her coughing up blood, but stopped short of it. How Dad would react to the news, she didn't know now. The professor waited, but nothing came out.

"You were going to tell me something, sweetie?" he prompted Bunny.

"Nothing," she finally said. "Just… Thanks, Dad."

There was no point in telling him about her bloody coughs. Besides, if she could recover from major surgery in half a day, what's a little cough?


	107. Chapter 100: Minotaur

**Chapter 100: Minotaur**

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Hunter's Respite (Gas Stop).**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 2110.**

"I'll be fine, Dad," Bunny spoke into her flip-phone. Like her sisters, she was given one for ease of communication. "Thanks for the juice. I feel much better now. Love you too, Dad. Bye!"

Bunny had been deployed once more, just when she thought that crime had eased up a little. Not even 24 hours ago, she had been severely injured, and she had spent the rest of the day trying to recover as much as she could, only to encounter certain… hiccups along the way. Still, it wasn't too bad, seeing that she wasn't coughing up blood anymore.

The mission this time was strange, and it wasn't just because it was a conventional mission that would have befitted her sisters. The mission was noteworthy even before it started…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 2041.**

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The clown phone screamed at Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup, and Bunny while they were playing. Blossom and Buttercup were each on their own, while Bubbles and Bunny were having fun with chess - Bunny had decided to pay Bubbles back for teaching her how to fly by teaching her how to play chess.

As Bunny was the only Girl on active duty, she zipped up to the phone, more energetic than before after a regime of bed rest, playtime, and Chemical X2-laced juices. Picking up the phone, she answered it.

"Bunny. This is General Blackwater. A USDO patrol unit has encountered an enhanced being - a very dangerous one. They've cornered it in the store it raided. How are you? Are you up for it?" the voice in the phone said. Bunny was glad to hear it. If only she could spend more time with the old general! "We can try keeping it there until the morning. Your… sisters… could back you up tomorrow-"

"No, general. I'll be fine on my own," Bunny said while casting a glance on her sisters, who were miserable while apart from one another. She didn't like the idea of putting them in danger.

"Are you sure?" the general replied, uncertain about Bunny's decision. It wasn't like him at all, but Bunny figured that their growing friendship was likely to blame for his odd behavior.

"Yes."

"I knew you'd say that. I've sent some men to escort you to the mission site. Don't take your bike out this time. They'll be assisting you in every way," the general said. "Stay safe. Go right ahead, there's no time to lose. It's not easy keeping that… thing penned in."

The general hung up after that. Instinctively, Bunny trotted over to one of the porthole-like windows and looked out. There were three vehicles on the streets, all of which looked identical to each other, save for the weapons mounted on top. They were all Lamborghini sports cars, the exact same vehicles that used to transport Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup around back when they couldn't fly. The sleek speed machines were all gray and emblazoned with the USDO crest on the doors. Some men were leaning on the cars or hanging around it. Zooming her vision, she could recognize one of them. Lieutenant Blake.

"You're going to fight crime, aren't you?" Bunny heard Bubbles say. She turned around and saw that she was no longer sitting beside their improvised chessboard.

"Yes," Bunny said. "I'm sorry I can't play with you."

"No, it's fine. Thanks, Bunny," Bubbles said. "It's because of you that we get to be normal little girls… at least for tonight."

"Maybe we could finish our Chess game later tonight?" Bunny suggested, before going into the closet to drag her gear out.

"I'd love to…" Bubbles said as Bunny was changing into her uniform rapidly. After she'd bade goodbye to Bubbles one last time, then to the indifferent Blossom and Buttercup, Bunny did the same with Dad and Mom as she went on her way out through the living room. She had to reassure Dad over and over again that she would be fine before she could leave through the garage door - she needed to pick up Ace's Duranium sword first.

When it came time to meet Lieutenant Blake, she wasn't sure how she should approach it. Being a little kid, she couldn't help but be shy about it, especially since she would be meeting an adult, even if he was someone who was friendly towards her sisters.

It felt as if she was taking her all to approach the man. Her hands were clasped together, as she wasn't sure what to do with them. She looked up at Agent Blake, wanting to say something, to greet him, but nothing came out.

"Cat caught your tongue?" Agent Blake said with a smile. Bunny did not understand the expression, so she actually had to check her mouth if her tongue had disappeared, momentarily afraid that it really did. Agent Blake laughed. "It's nice to see you again, Bunny. You may call me Mister Blake, like your sisters, did. Your sisters are great kids - so I hope that we can be friends throughout this whole mess in Townsville." Blake extended a hand, waiting for Bunny to take it.

"It's nice to meet you too," Bunny said stiffly. She recognized the PTF soldier's gesture and took it - like all other adults, his hand would envelope hers in a handshake.

"Enough standing on ceremony," Agent Blake said. Putting a hand on Bunny's shoulder, he led her towards the Lamborghini speed transport in the center of the three-vehicle column. "Here, let me introduce you to your new ride."

Young though Bunny might be, she could appreciate the beauty inherent in the car's design. It was an experimental model, poached from Chrysler Corporation and their Lamborghini subsidiary. Unlike all other sports cars of the same brand and design principles, the speed transport had four doors and was longer than usual. It was declared a failure compared to the conventional models, which made it easy for the USDO to get their hands on them. The USDO had bolted light armor plates all around it and added a machine gun on top, but those additions did not blemish the beauty of the car.

"Wow…" Bunny gawked at the car, her mouth wide open. "Is it really for me?"

"Definitely! We used to move your sisters around, and now we'll do the same for you. Come, Bunny. There are people who're eager to meet you," Agent Blake led her to a group of soldiers that was forming around one of the cars. The lieutenant would introduce her to the entire crew: his second-in-command, Agent Fields. Sergeant Cromwell, the communications specialist. Sergeant Holliday, the team's sniper - who also served as the Girls' chef when Blake had to take over as the Girls' handlers for a few days. Sergeant Rutherland, assault specialist - and also the Girls' playmate back in the day. Corporal Zach, the ill-humored medic. Private Mcmire, the group's K-9 handler - if they ever needed dogs for purposes beyond occupying Bubbles. There were a few others who weren't notable because of their reluctance to engage the Girls, but they had since come to accept them.

The doors of the Lamborghini speed transport would fling open, like the wings of a bird, and Bunny was shepherded to sit in the shotgun seat - though it was a special treat for her maiden trip. "You'll be sitting in the back the next time," Blake laughed. "It's safer that way."

Soon, they were on their way. There was a good reason why Blake had put Bunny at the front. On the way to the mission site, they would talk and get to know each other. Blake would tell Bunny about the adventures Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup would have whenever he was their driver. He would tell her what he knew about the Powerpuff Girls' first day, back when they were simply known as 'The Three' (not counting the insults Townsville citizens would throw their way back when they thought that they were a menace). He would tell her about their subsequent efforts to fight crime, which all ended in… mixed successes, until the turning point at the Morbucks Industries Research Laboratories, or the Morbucks Labs for short.

Bunny wasn't entirely surprised by her elder sisters' mixed successes; she had seen videos of them. But it was in Blake's storytelling that she found the more unexpected elements. She had looked up to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup as heroines, in addition to being veterans, if obsolete and trained on a lower tier than her. She couldn't imagine them as freshly-born children who were as naive, meek, and clueless as her.

It was also in Blake's stories that she found what she was looking for; evidence and accounts of her sisters' competency and heroism. Despite their blunders, even in the first couple months of their existence, they were a force to be reckoned with, one that Townsville eventually began to trust. These days, mopping the floor with the strongest of the many gangs of Townsville was everyday business to her cherished sisters.

Bunny had always wanted to emulate them.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Hunter's Respite (Gas Stop).**

**06 MAR (Monday) 1989. 2111.**

It was time. The USDO patrol officer who had put the gas stop under siege had told them the full story. An enhanced being had come down from the woods to raid the gas stop. Eyewitness accounts were varied; they couldn't even agree on the color of the creature's fur. Some said it was white like a Yeti's. Others thought it was pink. Still, others claimed it to be gray.

But there were some crucial (and startling) similarities. It was clothed in a haggard and worn denim jumpsuit, had discarded some white camouflage, and was strong enough to push aside cars and rip doors from their hinges. It was armed literally to the teeth - not just with an old lever-action shotgun, but also with claws and yes, teeth. Sharp, monstrous teeth that would best be described as fangs.

What was more, it wasn't the first time the USDO, or the Powerpuff Girls, had encountered it. Bunny had seen security footage that had captured the creature, and she saw it crushing Bubbles like a porcelain doll. It was faint, but she heard bones dislocating. Bubbles' scream, on the other hand, wasn't as faint.

Knowing that this monster had injured her sisters had made her mad. Bunny wanted to dispense her own justice for that, a little tit for tat, an eye for an eye.

"As much as I hate to put a child on the vanguard, you're tougher than the rest of us," Blake said to her while they were in the final stages of planning the counter-raid. "Unless you're not up to it. Are you sure you've recovered enough? You took quite a serious beating last night."

"That was last night, Mister Blake," Bunny growled, not at Blake, but at the creature holed up in the gas stop. Like a wolf rather than a rabbit, she glared at the gas stop, actually seeing through it. She couldn't quite see it, as it was blocked by rows of shelves, but she could see its head poking out. The rest of its body was an unclear silhouette. There were hostages kept behind the cash counter. It was no wonder the TPD hadn't stormed the gas stop store yet.

"Just yell if you need assistance. We'll be right behind you. We're packing some anti-enhanced arsenal for this, but you'll need to get out of the way if you want us to use it," Blake said, but Bunny wasn't really listening. She continued to glare at the beast in the gas station, already imagining ways to exact revenge on her new enemy.

"Bunny," Blake shook Bunny by the shoulder. She turned around to glare at him, but then remembered that she was surrounded by friends. She stopped putting on her mad look, but Blake had already seen her that way. "Hey, stay focused, alright? We don't need you to get injured again."

"Yes, Mister Blake…" Bunny said.

"Let's get started then. Lead the way," Blake replied.

Weaving between abandoned vehicles and gas pumps, Bunny approached the store of the gas stop stealthily, with her eyes fixed on the purple giant inside. Her x-ray vision had been active all the while, so she knew when to hide and when to dash. Agent Blake and his men were falling behind, but they were keeping out of sight admirably well, considering their lack of enhanced abilities.

Bunny couldn't wait. She wanted justice for her sisters, especially Bubbles. With her eidetic memory, she could remember everything perfectly, and that included the security footage in which the purple man had savaged Bubbles.

Within moments, Bunny had made it to the window of the store. While she was hiding under it with her MP5 in hand, she continued to peek at her target via x-ray vision. He had been busy filling a shopping cart full of handpicked food, prioritizing canned, and packaged food. He wasn't looking her way most of the time, as if he wasn't concerned at all about a raid on his position.

Flashes of Bubbles screaming, getting broken. Bunny couldn't wait any longer. Jumping through the window, shattering it completely, she took cover behind a shelf of gumdrops, x-ray vision still active. Purple Man was now looking her way again, walking out of the aisle he was shopping in, heavy footsteps betraying his graceless motion.

Flashes of Blossom getting maimed, scenes reconstructed from Blake's stories. Bunny hopped out of her position, gun blazing, emptied within seconds. The Purple Man shielded himself with his arm; the bullets made holes in his denim. He recoiled briefly, but surged forward amidst the lead barrage, thrusting his old lever-action shotgun out, ready to fire, but by then, Bunny was already gone.

She had already retreated to an aisle before popping behind the Purple Man and unloading another magazine of 9mm rounds on him, all perfectly accurate and striking home because of the strength she possessed. The Purple Man had anticipated her and fired his own shotgun, which did little except dent Bunny's armor.

Leaping back into cover, Bunny slung her MP5 onto her back - she had been testing her target's abilities all this while. Conventional firearms were useless against the purple-furred beast, but the beast had one himself, and it felt different. The force was more powerful. The shotgun pellets shouldn't have dented her armor, and her chest shouldn't feel bruised.

"Grrrr! How many of you city pixies are there!?" the Purple Man bellowed. "Lumpkins' gonna teach the all of you not to mess with him!"

Bunny responded by hoisting herself up the shelf and firing a quick purple laser beam, forcing the Purple Man, who called himself Lumpkins, to again shield himself with his massive arms. She ducked back down just in time to avoid another shotgun blast. She'd done damage. She'd seen it: fur getting burned, skin turning red.

'I'm winning,' Bunny thought, and she would have fired more laser beams too had Lumpkins not crash into the shelf she was hiding behind, sending both she and the shelf crashing into the glassy beverage section. She felt glass breaking all around her, cans popping open, letting loose a hundred soda geysers shooting gassy liquid all over the place, drenching her in the sugary stuff.

"You're not going anywhere, y'runt!" Lumpkins howled, and even when she was surrounded by aluminum cans and glasses full of alcohol, she could hear him well. As it turned out, there was more work to be done before she could even come remotely close to 'winning'.

Bunny flew out of her freezer prison, hovering in the air. Charging her eyes up for a more damaging beam, she endured another shotgun blast before firing her twin purple beams, searing Lumpkins as he clumsily ducked into cover. Then, unexpectedly, Bunny saw that the cover was raised and thrown at her. She darted out of the way, accidentally bumping her head on the ceiling hard before falling to the ground.

She was reminded of Blake's worries. She could feel it in her veins the sensation of mounting exhaustion. It wasn't even physical exhaustion; it was something deeper.

Bunny opened her eyes. She could hear and smell him before she saw him. Heavy, rapid, thundering footsteps. Lumpkins was rushing towards her, the color of his fur turned red with anger. With her more fancy abilities unavailable, Bunny pulled Ace's Duranium katana out, but before she could fend off her attacker, she felt a massive kick to her chest, which had sent her flying into another store shelf, the impact cushioned by candy bars.

"I'll turn you into a tangled ball of yarn!" Lumpkins roared as he charged at her again. Bunny rolled out of the way, and the red-furred beast crashed into the chocolate-covered shelf. "Oh, you! Look at what you made me do!"

As Lumpkins was wiping chocolate off his denim jumpsuit and red fur, Bunny flipped herself to her feet. On realizing that she had lost grip on her Duranium katana, she unsheathed her Duranium combat knife and took her turn to charge at Lumpkins with it. The beast swiped his claws at her, but she hopped past him, delivering a slash in his arm, spilling blood.

Braking herself in mid-air, Bunny flew back the way she came, putting another cut in Lumpkins' forearm as he shielded his face from the assault. Repeating this maneuver, she aimed a stab at Lumpkins' eye, putting both hands into the blow, but this time, Lumpkins had ducked out of the way and grabbed her by the legs while she was sailing through the air. The monster swung her all around and slammed her against the ground, cracking the tiles underneath, making a crater. That single blow had winded Bunny, the pain almost paralyzing.

Lumpkins did not stop there; He lifted his feet and brought it down for a stomp, but Bunny had rolled out of the way, retrieving her Duranium katana in the meantime. She held both knife and sword in hand, crouching, but then felt pain in her lungs once again. She coughed, and once more, blood spewed from her mouth.

"No, no, no!" Bunny uttered, hoping that the blood was just from internal injuries sustained in battle. Nonetheless, she took off, running down the aisle they were in, turning invisible at the same time, fading away into thin air. Lumpkins had unslung his shotgun and fired, but his pellets missed. Bunny had taken a turn, avoiding getting shot in the process.

"Runnin' away like a coward now?" Lumpkins growled. "You better run all the way to your pa and ma if y'know what's good for you!"

While Bunny had turned invisible, he could still hear her footsteps, growing faint at first, before making a return. The store had been turned upside down during the fight as if a tornado had gone through the whole place. As such, it was impossible for Bunny to stay quiet for long. Lumpkins could hear the sound of glass crunching on the floor, and cans being knocked aside in a hurry.

Bunny was coming around Lumpkins for an ambush once more. He could hear it, the heavy skittering of footsteps from a weasel cub. Whirling around, he aimed his shotgun at the opening of his aisle and fired his lever-action shotgun twice in rapid succession, expecting to hit the invisible pixie in the face. Instead, he'd ripped open the tiled floor.

"Wha-? Come on out, you lil' coward!" Lumpkins taunted. "I've got a shell with yer name on it!" He pulled the lever, ejecting another spent shotgun shell, which he caught in mid-air with his pan-sized hand and kept. While he was doing this, however, Bunny de-cloaked right before his eyes, and by the time she did, she was already flying towards him, foot first. The purple beast shielded himself with his shotgun out of instincts.

There was the sound of wooden cracks and metal bending after that. Lumpkins was knocked off his feet, to Bunny's surprise, though he didn't fly very far - just a few feet. Landing on his back, he held out his shotgun, only to realize that he was holding two separate pieces of what used to be his prized possession.

"Ma boomstick!" Lumpkins screamed in horror, not that Bunny was sympathetic to his cause. Upon landing, she'd immediately jumped to land a stomp on his head.

But it wasn't going to happen. Lumpkins' fur had turned red once more, and he'd swept Bunny aside with a massive backhand, smacking her with such force that she'd crashed into a shelf, which fell over.

Lumpkins roared as he jumped to his feet, his fur growing redder, to the point of nearly glowing crimson. "Ya broke ma' boomstick! I'll kill you twice fer that!"

Bunny got up as soon as she could, wiping blood from her mouth. She kicked herself into a hovering position, an extremely unsteady one. Lumpkins charged at her, flinging his claws about, only to slice air as Bunny would fly left and right to dodge them. She threw a few punches after that, the first two pounding a face of hard flesh and bone, and a third blocked by a muscled arm. Bunny saw blood from the beast's mouth, but he wasn't stunned at all.

The massive beast counterstruck with another swipe of his claws. Tired, Bunny couldn't get out of the way, not fully. The Kevlar on her right leg was scratched. Pieces and powders of it fell. The force of it had sent Bunny tumbling to the ground. She flipped herself upright again, and before Lumpkins could take advantage of her disadvantageous position, she flew into a butterfly kick, doing nothing as she'd hit Lumpkins' arms (again).

But the move was disorienting. Tired, Bunny tried to brake herself in mid-air; she was wide open for an attack, and Lumpkins took advantage of it. Running up to her, he flung his fist at her as hard as he could, striking home, and once more sending Bunny flying into a shelf, knocking it over.

Bunny groaned, but there was no time to feel pain nor bleed. Coughing up blood, she pulled her katana out on seeing Lumpkins rumbling towards her. She delivered a slash to his stomach, but it was as if the monster did not feel it; she was smashed deeper into the shelf she was half-kneeling on when Lumpkins gave her an overhead blow with both his hammy fists.

"Urgh…" Bunny groaned as she watched Lumpkins withdrawing his fists, feeling bruises all over her body and blood all over her face. She could barely see. Her vision was blurred. But the shape of Lumpkins' fists coming down on her was unmistakable. Quickly, she pulled her Duranium combat knife out and thrust it upwards-

Only to get slammed even deeper into the metal shelf she was lying on, the butt-end of her knife's hilt forced into her chest, the impact painful, but nothing compared to Lumpkins' red, angry fists.

Lumpkins pulled his fists back once more. He'd felt something in his hand, so he examined the sensation. There was red on red. Something had sliced up his hand badly. Looking back down at Bunny, he saw what had cut him up - a knife, coated thickly in his blood.

The pain had brought him out of his berserk state.

"Tricky little city pixie," Lumpkins taunted Bunny, who looked like she might be on her deathbed. Half her face was bruised, and one of her arms looked limp, likely dislocated. "You're gonna pay for bustin' up ma boomstick! What d'you 'ave to say fer yerself f'that?"

After panting for some time and swallowing a glob of saliva and blood, Bunny reached feebly for her ear and spoke dryly and weakly into her headset: "Blake… Now…"

"What? Speak up, kid!" Lumpkins growled at her. But something broke his focus on the enhanced kid. Movement at the corner of his eyes. He turned to see, only to realize that he was surrounded. There were USDO soldiers at the windows and doors.

"Fire!" Blake ordered from the window. An explosion of gunshots ensued. Lumpkins could feel them in his arm and chest and stomach. Something huge but slower than a bullet struck him in the face, causing him to stumble back. A white mist blinded him, and he coughed as it entered his lungs, burning him. He swiped at the mist as if it was some physical enemy, but he couldn't get rid of the gas, and so he did what Bunny didn't expect: he turned tail and ran.

Bunny had taken a whiff of the white mist. She felt a wave of lethargy after that, and so she crawled away from it, as far as it could. Was it some sort of concentrated nerve gas? Or a manner of gaseous chloroform? It didn't matter, Bunny decided in the end, as long as it got Lumpkins to back away.

She could see the huge form of the beast through the thinning white mist. After grabbing the remains of his old shotgun and dumping it into a shopping cart filled with food, he picked up the whole shopping cart, pinning it between arm and hip, before scooping up a few containers of gasoline.

"You'll pay for my boomstick one day!" Lumpkins bellowed in the general direction of Bunny as he retreated amidst a hail of heavy gunshots, bullets that ripped through metal and concrete with ease but ultimately only served to hurry Lumpkins' retreat. "The things I do to survive the winter!"

With that, Lumpkins ran through the backdoor, enduring shots from the police outside as he rammed his way through the police line out of desperation.

Bunny slumped back down on her shelf, which had been her bed for the past tense minute. Another failed mission. The target was to be either killed or arrested. She had done neither.

'What's happening to me?' Bunny thought as she finally allowed herself to rest. She had been on a streak, on the fast-track. Now, she couldn't stop failing. Once more, she was injured, and it made her feel more like a burden than a protector of her family and the city.

The next thing she knew, Blake, Fields, and their medic, Zach, were looking over her, saying something, but by then, she couldn't hear them anymore, and soon, nor could she see them.

* * *

**A/N: If any of you have any feedback on how I can improve my writing, please do give it. I believe that the overall quality of my writing has been reduced by a number of factors, and any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated to halt this trend. While I may not implement every suggestion, it doesn't mean that I think less of you, whoever you may be ****(the reason could also just be lack of energy rather than disagreement)****. **


	108. Chapter 101: Escape

**A/N: Looks like it's this longfic's 1st year anniversary. Happy birthday, The Powerpuff Girls: Declassified! I didn't plan on releasing this chapter today, but I guess the stars have a way of aligning, and I couldn't add anything more to this chapter without ruining the flow of it. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 101: Escape**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 0735.**

The room was dark when Bunny opened her eyes. Room? Bunny didn't even know where she was. The last thing she knew was that she was in a gas stop. Before her were three circular port-like windows, and the only reason why she knew they were there was because of the starry night sky beyond them.

She tried lighting up her eyes, but the bioluminescence of her eyes wouldn't glow any brighter. She thought it was because she was drained; she did feel lethargic, after all.

"Dad?" Bunny called out but found that her throat was sore and her voice nearly muted. She coughed, and thankfully this time, there was no blood. Removing her blankets, she felt herself. Pajamas. Did Dad and Mom change her while she was out?

Bunny slipped out of bed, padding towards the door. But then two glowing orbs came into view before her, and Bunny jumped! Was that Lumpkins? No, Bunny decided. She remembered his eyes, those ghoulish milky-white eyes. Those 'orbs' before her were purple and glowing. They were actually her eyes, reflected off a mirror.

"Mom?" Bunny called out once again, only to get no response. Coughing once more, she padded towards the door, working off memory alone, nearly tripping on some kind of toy with wheels before bumping into the wooden door itself. She felt for the doorknob, taking quite some time to find it.

"Bubbles?" Bunny called out again as she opened the door. The corridor outside was just as dark. It was as if the entire house had suffered a blackout. She stepped into the corridor. She remembered vaguely that it was in this corridor that she bled from her mouth for the first time. She remembered feeling like she was being watched then.

The enhanced girl looked around her. She was getting the same feeling again, the feeling of being watched. Looking behind her, she thought she saw two orbs again, floating in the dark. Was it another mirror reflecting her purple, glowing eyes?

Not this time. The floating orbs were glowing red, not purple. Which meant- Bunny's eyes grew wide. She couldn't help but breathe rapidly, feeling faint from the hyperventilation. She wasn't alone, and the red eyes - they were clearly eyes - floated closer to her, accompanied by the sound of heavy, thumping footsteps. Feeling terror like never before, Bunny took off in the other direction, running, running as fast as her legs could carry her.

Despite being unable to see anything, Bunny could roughly remember where the stairs were, and when the required distance traveled was reached, she turned left. She began descending the steps twice at once, falling with each stride. But it was pitch black, and she'd missed a step as a result, slipping on the edge of the next step, causing her to tumble down the rest of the way, cutting herself on the edges of the steps, until she reached the foot of the stairs, screaming.

It wasn't supposed to be this painful. It was worse than getting shot by a terrorist with an assault rifle. She had come to a rest chest-first. Pushing herself up, she felt dull aches all over her body, especially at the joints. Her elbows and knees had suffered their fair share of knocks and jabs from the stairs. But she'd managed to get up on her knees. Something was slithering down her cheek and lips. Her hand instinctively went up to her face, wiping whatever it was away.

It was wet. Blood. Bunny could smell it even without her enhanced senses. But how?

The heavy footsteps continued above, coming down on her. Bunny looked up and saw the red eyes coming closer, still. She thought she could see pupils, and they were fixated on her. Frightened, Bunny ran - and it didn't matter which direction it was. She ran, knocking into couches and tripping over a coffee table until she thought she was in the kitchen - but she didn't have to guess for long.

The lights came on the moment she entered. She didn't remember motion sensors ever being installed in there. Nothing made any sense. But Dad was there, cooking. She could clearly recognize him even though he was facing away from him, due to his lab coat and black pants and leather shoes. There was the sound of spatula on metal pan, the smell of eggs being fried and scrambled.

"Dad!" Bunny cried as she crawled over to his feet and hugged his leg. "There's a monster in the house and I can't-"

Something was wrong. Bunny had hugged those legs plenty of times before, and it felt different this time. Too rough… Too out of shape. She fell back, crawling backward, away from the thing that wasn't her Dad. The thing stopped cooking. It'd started spasming, limbs twisting in ways that were unnatural. Reaching for its chest, it started pulling its skin and clothes off, revealing red skin underneath. Spines burst forth from the back of the creature that wasn't her Dad and hands fell off as if lobbed off by invisible axes to reveal claws from some hellish undersea monster crab.

Bunny bolted, she ran and screamed, and didn't realize that the house was no more. Something glowed white in the far distance. She ran to it. She could hear wet footsteps behind her, rapidly approaching.

When the glowing thing came into view, she saw that it was her sword. Or rather, it was the sword she had taken from Ace. Reaching for it, she picked it up by the hilt, and immediately, the sword glowed red. It was heavy without her enhanced strength, but if there was something she knew as well as her father's love, it was hardship and pain. She whirled around to face the demon, sword held before her in a standard Kenjutsu stance.

But it was nowhere to be seen. The footsteps were gone too.

"Bunny…" a voice, like a wind, whispered in her ear. Bunny turned to her right, then left, promptly, fearfully. There was no one around her. She whirled around to see if anyone was behind her, but again, there was no one. No, there was something else.

A mirror. But it was dark, and she could see only her glowing, purple eyes. The sword's glow itself had dimmed, as if its energy had diffused elsewhere. She did feel stronger… Walking closer, the first thing she noticed was that the glow of her eyes was no longer purple. They were red.

The second thing she noticed was that her skin had taken on a red complexion, and her face was no longer her own, but her demon's, with its excessive gothic make-up and leering eyes and mocking smile.

That was when it happened. She saw her nose falling away, then her ears. Her skin rotted away as if aged a thousand times the speed. Soon, there was nothing but decaying bones left - and her shriveled and bloodshot, still-glowing eyes.

She screamed, clutching her skull!

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 0740.**

Bunny bolted upright in her bed, screaming and clutching her face. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were already up and sitting at the pink kiddy table, fully uniformed and armored and armed for the possible deployment ahead, waiting for breakfast. Blossom and Bubbles flew up to her the moment she came to. Buttercup stayed behind - Bunny could die for all she cares.

"Bunny! You're awake!" Bubbles squealed with glee - she had been so worried - but the horror evident in Bunny's face had made her joy short-lived. In her blind panic, Bunny tried to crawl away from her sisters only to hit the headboard of their shared bed, so both Blossom and Bubbles had to seize her by the arm each before she did anything rash.

"Bunny, calm down! You're alright!" Blossom tried to reassure her.

"Yeah, you're safe with us!" Bubbles added. It was only at this point that Bunny stopped shrieking. Buttercup's only reaction was a palm to her face. She didn't like the noise this early in the morning.

"You fought really well against Lumpkins, Bunny," Blossom said, hoping to perhaps brighten Bunny's day.

"Yeah! The three of us couldn't beat him, but you were like all four of us, all in one!" Bubbles praised her too, enjoying the fact that Blossom seemed to like Bunny again.

"Y-you're not mad at me, Blossom?" Bunny asked meeky, afraid that the wrong word could sour things between her and Blossom again. Blossom let go of Bunny. She looked down on the pink of the blanket, her mind going back.

"Blake told me about you, and how hard you're fighting and how much you were hurting, and I… I shouldn't have treated you so badly," Blossom said. She fixed her gaze on Bunny's eyes firmly after that, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're going to try to become better sisters, aren't we, Bunny?"

Bunny was stunned. It was all she ever wanted. Blossom did not let her gaze falter… until Bunny nodded. And then Blossom smiled. Bunny smiled back.

"This is so sweet!" Bubbles exclaimed. "Group hug?" she suggested, and it was a suggestion that the three Girls did not hesitate to follow along with. But it felt incomplete. Something was missing.

"Buttercup, group hug!" Blossom ordered Buttercup, a hint of annoyance in her voice. Buttercup's only reaction was to turn her chair and body away from them while she hugged what appeared to be her only friend left - her Stoner Light Machinegun. "What's wrong with you?"

No one would ever find out what was wrong with Buttercup however, as the door opened and in came Agent Blake.

"Isn't that sweet? I swear, you Girls are all perfect little angels," the PTF soldier said. He, however, noticed something missing too, and turned his head to find Buttercup sitting all alone, pondering about… whatever it was that a Girl like her tend to ponder about. "At least most of you are."

"You told them about my mission yesterday?" Bunny asked the man.

"I had to. They were with your Dad late last night when he had to treat you - thank God you're not too badly wounded this time - They've overheard everything, so I kept them busy by telling them your story," Agent Blake explained. Walking over to Bunny, he handed her a canteen filled with… something. "Drink it. Your father mixed that up for you."

"But… Why tell them?" Bunny had so much to say, but she was blushing like never before. She took the canteen and smelled what was in it. It turned out to be Chemical X2-laced juice, and it was a stronger mix this time, likely made to replenish Bunny's Chemical X2 count faster. She took a sip of it, found it pleasing, before taking larger gulps.

"That mission wasn't top secret. Besides, your sisters deserve to know how good a job you did yesterday," Blake said. "You fought that 'Lumpkins' character to a standstill where a company of elite soldiers in a forest couldn't even pin him down."

"But… But… He's still alive!" Bunny said, now afraid. If he's out there…

"Yes he is, and I'm afraid he'll be back sooner or later. But thanks to you, I think it'll be much later," Blake explained. "It's basic psychology. I saw what you did to him. He was limping and wincing by the time he was running for it. He was slower than the last time I saw him, and from what I heard, even the police were almost successful in arresting him after the slugging you dished out at him."

"I hate to say this, but… Maybe we shouldn't kill him?" Blossom offered. She remembered the toll being exacted for killing. It still weighed heavily in her heart. Some of the people who died shouldn't have, and it ate at her soul. Thoughts of it, along with the accompanying sweat-inducing post-traumatic shock, would come and go like some insidious terminal disease. "He was just looking for food the last time."

Bunny was about to state an opinion on the contrary but thought better of it. The last time she'd done it, unknowingly, it didn't end well.

"Maybe we can try talking to him the next time…" Bubbles suggested too. "He stopped fighting us when Blossom tried to be nice to him - sort of."

"We can always try impounding him, but with an enhanced creature his size and strength? That would be next to impossible. The Anti-X your father provided didn't drain him as much as I hoped," Blake explained. "Killing him shouldn't be off the table. He's had time to learn and change for the better. He didn't."

The door opened once again, and Professor Utonium stepped through. Blake turned to look who it was. He nodded at him before taking his leave.

"Bunny! You're alright! You've got to stop scaring me like this!" Dad said as he hurried over to Bunny and sat down next to her, nudging Blossom aside, reminding her, once again, that she was second to Bunny. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Dad… It was just a nightmare," Bunny said. That strange dream from the dark was still fresh on her mind. They hugged.

"My poor little rabbit - traumatized to the point of having nightmares," Dad said. "Tell you what - I'm going to give you a warm bath, some good breakfast, and then it's back in bed for rest, okay?"

"But what about school?" Bunny asked. She had missed school the previous day, and she didn't want to lose another school day again. School day meant more time with her sisters, and the chance to hone some basic skills to fight crime better - overlooked skills like mathematics, communication and visualization (in more normal terms, art).

"Are you sure you want to even leave the house?" Dad said. "You took quite a beating yesterday, and I've injected you with anesthetics last night and the night before."

"I'm fine, Dad. I want to go to school," Bunny said firmly.

"And that's what you'll do," Dad relented. He stroked Bunny's hair. "Looks like you're growing to be really smart, you little genius you!" Dad cooed at Bunny

Blossom was incensed. Wasn't she the smart one? The little genius? She was shaking with anger when she realized, once again, that Bunny was taking away everything from her - despite all the effort she was putting into being nice to her! How unjust could the world get!? But Blossom kept it all down. Inside, she told herself to calm down repeatedly, as if it was a mantra. She remembered her promise to Dad even better than Dad himself - she had to be nice to her sisters. Sure, she meant Bubbles, but it felt like it applied to Bunny too. After all, the right thing to do was often the hard thing to do, right?

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 0745.**

Because of her insistence to go to school, Bunny had to rush through her bath (which was more like a shower) to catch up with the rest of her family. After putting on her uniform, armor, and gear, she rushed down to the breakfast table. There was no time for Mom to cook her a proper breakfast, so she poured her a bowl of milk and some Lucky Captain Rabbit King Nuggets. She couldn't complain though, as it was as good a breakfast as any, and her favorite animal was on the box, dressed as a pirate… and captain… and king. She couldn't decide which it was.

Dad had tried to get Bunny to sit in the family sedan after that, but Bunny was headstrong in keeping her chin up. Besides, she was required by standard operating procedures to keep her bike close, in case of emergencies and deployments. Flying wasn't the best option either, necessitating the bike, as she had yet to clock in enough flight time to be stable, and it would burn precious Chemical X2 energy she hadn't been able to recover for the past two days.

While the family got into the car, Bunny went to her bike and saw something from her nightmare. Ace's sword, the katana with a red handle. No, Ace's sword had entered her dreams somehow. Drawn to it, Bunny held the sword by the handle - and was immediately beset by flashes of her nightmare. The creature in the dark. The red eyes. Dad changing into that monster, and of course, she had turned into that red-skinned thing before finally… turning to dust and bones.

Bunny gasped, jerking awake as if she had fallen asleep again.

"Hey Bunny, you sure you don't wanna hop in!?" Mom shouted at her from the driver's seat, having rolled down the window upon seeing that Bunny had zoned out, or something, next to her bike.

"I'm fine, Mom!" Bunny yelled over the hum of the sedan's engine before putting her helmet on and climbing on top of her bike. With that, the entire family headed towards school, and on the way there, Bunny stared at the rising sun through her helmet visor, willing herself to be hopeful. She remembered Dad's story about Daedalus and Icarus, and imagined the father and son duo flying across the sky. Was that what they were going to do? Bunny remembered that Dad had told the story right up until the part where they had made the feathered wings. Maybe he would continue telling the story tonight?

Well, it was one more thing to look forward to.


	109. Chapter 102: The Trial (Part 1)

**Chapter 102: The Trial (Part 1)**

**B-50 W2 Report 2**

**DOC: 07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989.**

**Created by: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Additional Report on B-50's Expanding Capabilities**

Bunny has recently opened up to me about even more 'strange' things that were happening to her. She appears to have discovered some new abilities, some of them I have seen before, others unprecedented and quite shocking.

The first thing she brought up was how her ocular laser beams were behaving in her previous mission. They were burning, rather than cutting, or perhaps both. She appears to be insecure about her health, despite being created with an immune system that could kill anything instantly short of her own cells. Due to the chaotic nature of battles, there is the possibility that Bunny might have made a mistake in her observation. However, with enhanced individuals, one might never know. The scientific method should be abided by.

As it turns out, my hunch about my daughter was right. The test used was the standard shooting range using steel weights as targets, with some slight modifications. The range of the targets is fixed at 20 yards, with no paper targets at all. The results are below:

Target 1 - Major energy output is light. Laser beam.

Target 2 - Major energy output is light. Laser beam.

Target 3 - Energy: Light. Laser beam.

Note: Based on the results, it appears as if Bunny might have made the wrong observations. Another possibility is that her laser beam might have caused combustion in something flammable on her target. It is possible that her target was stained with oil, or gunpowder in some areas. Her description of her opponent that day seems to lend credence to this theory, as he appears to have manufactured his own ammunition and had been looting gas from a gas stop. However, I have decided to try something out. I gave Bunny a series of instructions, which is basically to will herself to produce heat beams instead of a laser beam.

Target 4 - Light. Laser beam.

Target 5 - Light. Laser beam.

Note: It appears that I am still getting negatives here. This time, I gave Bunny another set of instructions, which is to focus on what she wishes to accomplish. In this case, I told her to try her best to heat the target up.

Target 6 - Light. Laser beam.

Target 7 - Light and heat. Mixed beam.

Note: I am getting something here. The target has been simultaneously cut and heated up. The target has been heated up by 355°F, and cut 0.3 inches deep. Previous targets were cut as deep as 0.7-0.8 inches. This is significant. I instructed Bunny to continue.

Target 8 - Light and heat. Mixed beam.

Note: Results are similar, with only variations in the readings. The target was heated up by 328°F and cut 0.35 inches deep.

Target 9 - Light and heat. Mixed beam.

Note: At least Bunny is not getting frustrated. The same exercise would have frustrated Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup by now, but not her. She knows that she's making progress. She's such a genius darling!

Target 10 - Heat. Infrared beam.

Note: Bunny was able to produce a completely different beam, something comparable to Blossom's Infrared beam.

Target 11 - Heat. Infrared beam.

Note: Stress Test. Bunny was able to melt the steel weight partially. Thermographic analysis indicates a temperature of around 2671°F at the center of the melted region.

After a rest period of half an hour and a regime of Chemical X2 juice and Bugs Bunny cartoons, we (Bunny and yours truly, Professor Utonium) set out to test the limits on the spectrum of her ocular energy emission.

Target 12: Light. Laser Beam.

Note: She was instructed to produce an ion beam. The test produced a negative likely due to the difficulty of imagining a use and desired result for an ion beam. Neither can I imagine what is actually going on in her body and how she would have to 'flex' herself to produce the energy beam. She mentioned something about sensations. My guess is that it is as natural to her as running and walking are to us.

Target 13: Mixed light and charged ions. Mixed beam.

Note: To improve the chances of attaining the emission of an ion beam, I decided to sacrifice my oldest computer monitor and radio set. I gave Bunny the goal of disabling those devices without doing too much damage. The result was not exactly the desired one, perhaps because 'too much damage' leaves too much room for interpretation. Both electronic pieces of equipment were fried and caught on fire. The application of a fire extinguisher became necessary, though that's the least of my worries as I had to calm Bunny down. She thought she had made a mess and I was angry. I assured her I wasn't.

Target 14: Charged ions. Ion beam

Note: I gave Bunny a tighter goal of avoiding as much damage as possible while disabling the electronics. The result is positive.

After test 14, I have decided to cut the experiments short. Bunny requested a bathroom break, but she did not return. When I went to check on her after ten minutes, she was still inside and had only opened the door when I knocked. Something tells me she wasn't just taking a tinkle. I know Bunny, or rather, the inhumane training she was subjected to. She would never say no, perceiving it as failure, or insubordination. While she would not tell me what she was doing in the washroom, my bet is that she was tired, and would not tell me for fear of 'failing'. I have since been reassuring her that there was no 'failing' an experiment, but her mood did not improve even after that.

However, she insisted on showing me something else before we ended the experiments.

She could turn invisible. Astonishing! No words could express my surprise at seeing this for myself. I have included multiple videos of this phenomenon in this report. Please observe them carefully. You will see that she will fade away within a second, and after that, only slight distortions in the air could be seen, and even that requires lots of squinting and focusing to notice.

At first glance, this 'cloaking' ability of hers appears to defy science. Initially, I have multiple hypotheses to explain this, just waiting to be tested. One possible explanation I have is that she might have created gravitational distortions around her, bending light in such a way that none of it will bounce off her but instead go around her, achieving invisibility.

A second possibility is that she is mimicking and emitting light coming from all around her, in addition to absorbing those that would have reflected off her in normal circumstances. While this might seem unlikely, Chemical X and X2, as well as their effects, are largely still not well understood. The Girls' eyes have already proven them to be bioluminescent - this could just be the next logical step.

A third hypothesis I have involves higher dimensions. She could be phase-shifting between this dimension and the next higher dimension in order to render herself invisible.

The last hypothesis I have is the simplest of them all. It might have been that she could have gained a psionic power rather than a physical one. It might be a subconscious ability that causes selective blindness in everyone around her, enlarging the blindspot in their eyes to fit herself in, or simply preventing the brain of everyone around her from registering her.

Tests will have to be conducted next time. Bunny was already tired by the time she showed me her cloaking ability. However, I have been able to rule out several of the hypotheses through observations alone.

Bunny could not have phase-shifted between this dimension and the next. She would not have been able to interact with anything on Earth well if she did. She would have fallen through the Earth - her clothes should have fallen off. The fourth dimension (or the fifth, if time is included) is a very strange place. Had she phase-shifted into it, she would have reported seeing something from there, but she did not. In fact, there is also a good chance that anyone who moves through the fourth dimension might end up elsewhere other than where she was - and Bunny was walking around in the lab.

Bunny could not have developed a psionic ability either. I was able to capture her turning invisible on camera and view the footage. The footage itself shows her clearly turning invisible. If it were a psionic ability, I would have been able to see her in the footage even after she had applied her cloaking ability, as her psionic power would not have affected me while I was viewing it (away from her, might I add).

It remains to be seen how her cloaking ability works. We can only be glad that it works. This means a higher survival chance for Bunny. As her father, I'll take it any day.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1602.**

_Bzz! Bzz! Bzz!_ The clown phone rang when the Girls least expected. The Girls had expected it to ring while they were in school, and they had expected it to ring while they were at lunch. Blossom thought that it was because the Amoeba Boys had held their end of the bargain, putting a stop to many of their petty crimes throughout the city using their influence.

Blossom had tried to have fun with Bunny and decided to let her decide on their activities. Bunny had recreated a grand strategy game General Blackwater used to play with her using their Townsville map and some toy soldiers. It was pretty fun, Blossom had to admit, but the phone had interrupted them.

Bunny flew over to the phone, a bright purple line of light streaking behind her; it'd impressed Blossom. Bubbles clapped and laughed, glad that Bunny was getting a hang of flying.

"Hello?" Bunny had picked up the phone and greeted whoever was on the other side. Someone was blowing a puff of smoke before answering.

"This is Rook. I have an assignment for you. Bring only light weaponry and keep your (un)powered armor at home, Meet me down at the tea shop at Williams Street in Old Town," the intelligence agent said curtly, and when Bunny expected him to just hang up, he went on: "Remember: third floor, room three. I've signed in using the name 'Quinn'. Now get Blossom on the line."

After calling Blossom over, Bunny handed the phone to her. Blossom couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What would they need them for this time?

"Blossom. Police Chief Feig would like you to take down the boss of the local Black Brothers," it turned out to be General Blackwater this time. "Do you feel like killing anyone today, girl?"

"No… I don't wanna…" Blossom said timidly. It was as if her mistakes were staring down her back, warning her.

"Then don't. Feig wouldn't mind that you kill the Big Brother of the Black Brothers and his Mid Bros, but you have my permission to spare as many lives as possible," the general said, curiously. Blossom had never thought of him as a particularly merciful person.

Dad would walk in on them after that.

"Another mission?" he would say to Bunny, a bitter, sad smile on his face. How adults could come up with such mixed expressions so readily, she didn't understand. They were an enigma, something she hoped she would get a better grasp on months down the road.

"We're going too, Dad!" Blossom exclaimed, hoping to draw attention to herself.

"Yeah, Dad, but it's going to be different this time," Bunny said, with Blossom still repeating herself behind Dad in the hopes of attracting some fatherly eyeballs. All the professor did was to gesture for her to stop and quiet down. "I don't think I'm supposed to fight much today."

"I'm glad about that. Hey, listen, when you're back for dinner, we have a surprise waiting for you," Dad said. It was only then that he turned to Blossom, but he wasn't really talking to her: "Right Girls?"

"Right…" Blossom said dejectedly as she floated forlornly in her lonesome. Once again, she was second.

"It's going to be a big and wonderful surprise!" Bubbles exclaimed from her corner while she was slipping her kevlar vest on. She giggled after that, barely able to contain her excitement. Blossom knew what Bubbles was talking about, and she was already starting to regret her hand in arranging it.

Meanwhile, Buttercup was already done prepping to fight crime. She wasn't really even listening to the conversation. Right now, the only thing that even remotely appealed to her was the promise of an adrenaline-pumping battle. In the meantime, she was just sitting at the pink table alone, facing away from them, and stroking her massive LMG as if it was a pet.

"Thanks, Dad," Bunny said, before hugging him. "I'll be fine, I promise. I don't want you to be sad again." She'd managed a smile, even though she knew full well that something was off and she wasn't totally fine. Still, she was holding out hope that it was just another battlefield injury.

It was then that she understood how Dad could have such mixed expressions, such complexity. In the end, she had become something that wasn't much different.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Old Town. Williams Street. The Baker Tea House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1634.**

Bunny had found her new set of instructions odd. No (un)powered armor? Light weapons only? Just what would she be doing that would require the inversion of preparation? She had to dig out her rarely used conventional combat gear, which was designed similarly to her sisters', and she had left the majority of her weapons at home, bringing only her Duranium knife and a pistol along.

What was stranger was the fact that her mission was happening in broad daylight, and there were no instructions for her to disguise herself. When she stopped outside the place she was supposed to go to, she couldn't get used to how everyone was staring at her while she was parking her bike. And when she stared back at them, they would disperse and hurry along.

"Devil's child," one old woman hissed at her before walking away faster than old women normally could or would.

"Jesus, her eyes…" she overheard someone on the way into the Baker Tea House, using her enhanced hearing.

"A fourth Powerpuff Girl? How is that possible?" another civilian whispered to another behind her back.

When Bunny had finally gone indoors in the Baker Tea House, it was much better. There were few patrons in the confusingly versatile establishment, and most of them were either too old or too absorbed in their work to bother with her. There were rows of bread upfront, and tea was being served to the patrons. Apparently, 'Baker' was a pun sealed by family name and business decisions. A sign told her that there were rooms upstairs, making the place an inn as well.

Before she could go up the stairs, though, a receptionist got up from a desk and stood in her way.

"Are you looking for a room or a person?" he asked. He too, was pretty old, in his fifties. Bunny thought that he would be easy to overpower or kill if she had to.

"I'm looking for Mister Quinn," Bunny said plainly, waiting for the receptionist to respond. The receptionist returned to his desk. After putting on his spectacles, he began flipping through the pages of his guest book, then returning to the same pages he had gone through. It was only after going down the list twice that he'd seen the name. 'He's so slow!' Bunny thought.

The man looked up at Bunny from his guest book before looking back down into the list.

"You've already found his name…" Bunny said - in fact, she had already found Rook's alias in the guest book long before the receptionist did. The aging man straightened up before looking at her again. After looking at her up and down, he removed his spectacles.

"You know, aren't you a little underaged for… that?" the man, who was ancient compared to Bunny, said.

"Underaged for what?" Bunny asked.

"You know… that thing? The stuff your mom and dad don't wanna talk about? Sweetie, you don't have to cater to the perversions of a sick man if you don't want to," the receptionist said. "I can call the police if you want if there's some pimp hanging out just outside my fair establishment."

Red flags were sprouting all over the place when he offered to summon the authorities. From what she'd learned, there was a crooked cop around every street corner in Townsville. They would jeopardize the mission - whatever it was - and she wasn't in the mood of failing General Blackwater nor fail to protect her family again. An image of a wounded Dad flashed in her mind, and that set her off. Marching up to the receptionist, Bunny grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards her, pressing her face close to his.

"If you call the police," Bunny whispered to the man in a voice trembling with rage and oozing with threats. "I will break every single bone in your body. Don't do it."

Bewildered and shocked, more than intimidated by how strong the enhanced girl was, how oddly mature she was and her jagged set of teeth, the receptionist nodded several times. Bunny slammed him back into his seat.

It was only by that time that, belatedly, the receptionist recognized her for who she was. It wasn't some pair of contact lenses she was wearing, and it wasn't props she was armed with nor some costume she was wearing. She was the fourth Powerpuff Girl, as rumored by the newspapers and talking heads on television.

"Gee- I- I was just trying to help, you know," the receptionist stuttered as this fourth Powerpuff Girl was giving him the death stare. "Please don't kill me."

"I don't want to kill innocent people. I don't like it," Bunny said, unable to help the tear escaping her eye. The receptionist had inadvertently reminded her of her past deeds. "Don't make me and I won't."

And with that, she went up the stairs.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Old Town. Williams Street. The Baker Tea House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1639.**

After rapping on the right door a sequence of codes, Bunny was allowed to enter Rook's room. The man wasn't dressed in his usual suit. He was disguised as someone else, likely someone fictional. He was wearing a fake mustache and sideburns, a leather jacket, and jeans. He looked 'off'. It was no wonder the receptionist had suspected him of 'perversions', whatever that meant - Bunny had no idea.

"What am I doing today, Mister Rook?" Bunny asked from the get-go. For some reason, she couldn't resist sitting down on his bed. There was something in her that compelled it, a hint of tiredness, maybe, but it was very faint. "Why are you wearing a costume and I'm not? Why-"

"All your questions will be answered in due time, Bunny," Rook had been looking out the window. Turning around, he regarded her with a pair of scrutinizing eyes. Despite his shades - which was the only thing that didn't change - she could see the way he was looking at her. She couldn't resist peeking through his sunglasses. He returned to looking out the window again, at what, Bunny had no idea. "Things are changing quickly - so quickly. The more you know, the less you do."

"Shouldn't it be 'the more you know, the more you do'?" Bunny said, finding his expression odd. How could someone know less when he knew more?

"Nevermind," Rook dismissed it all before turning around again. "I've read a report from your father that you have gained the ability to turn invisible. Is that right?"

"Y-yes…" Bunny said,

"Show me," the chief of intelligence ordered. Bunny obliged, closed her eyes in concentration - not wanting to mess up her first demonstration to Rook - before letting that tingling feeling wash over her. Right before the intelligence officer, Bunny faded away into nothingness. The only clue of her existence after that was the depression in Rook's bed, shaped like a butt and thighs.

"That's…" the man was lost for words. Starting forward, he reached out to touch her. His motion was slow; he was almost afraid of making contact with her. He could barely see anything at all, just an odd, faint distortion in the air. Eventually, he did, and he ended up touching something soft. He immediately felt his hand being slapped away by what felt like an extremely solid mass of air.

"Ouch!" Bunny yelled before dropping her cloaking field. She was rubbing her eye while she was fading back into view.

"Sorry, sorry!" Rook apologized immediately, startled. "That's incredible! It's better than I expected!"

"So what am I doing today?" Bunny asked again, still rubbing her eye. Although there was no damage - not that the accidental eye-poke would have hurt even a normal person - but it was still painful.

"There's a police station in the area. Precinct 13," Rook explained, still enthralled by Bunny's performance. "I want you to infiltrate it. Enter the office of one Detective Marion. He will be there today. He is known for taking bribes to hide or plant shreds of evidence at crime scenes. Find anything that will serve as evidence for his crimes there. The TPD's Internal Affairs and the USDO's own Anti-Corruption Squad would love to have it."

"But what about-"

"I know. You want the man responsible for using your sisters, for puppeteering them to do the enemy's bidding. You're afraid he will do something to them, and you want him dead," Rook said. Bunny found little room to argue. "Not yet. This will serve as a trial run. Work out the kinks of your invisibility, if there's any. Learn the strengths and limitations of your stealth capabilities, and we'll find Feig and put an end to the threat he pose to your sisters."


	110. Chapter 103: The Trial (Part 2)

**A/N: This chapter turned out to be too long so I split it up into two. The third part of The Trial will be released a day after this.**

* * *

**Chapter 103: The Trial (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Old Town. Pioneer Avenue. Precinct 13.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1648.**

It had gone by without a hitch at first. Bunny had gone to the top of the tea shop and flown from rooftop to rooftop from there. Nowadays, with her presence known, it didn't matter anymore if she was seen by the wider public.

The TPD was another matter though. Bunny had to keep an eye out for any police cruisers and officers, as alerting them could put her target on his guard - causing him to even do something rash, like burning all his evidence. Thankfully, the path to the police station was well-hidden. Few normal people traverse the rooftops, after all. After leaping from one short apartment after another, and running across the roof of some terrace housing, Bunny jumped onto the roof of the police station.

Fading into invisibility, she let herself into a window on the top floor, inaccessible to those who couldn't fly, before landing with a soft thump. There were a few officers who happened to be walking in that corridor, and one of them heard it. The officer turned to look, only to see nothing before attributing the sound to her imagination.

Bunny was still unused to being invisible. Every time she thought she had attracted someone's attention, she would freeze, even break out in cold sweat and involuntary thoughts of failure. She would fear being seen, despite her invisibility, as if her mammalian brain, enhanced though it was, couldn't accept the fact that she could no longer be seen.

Gingerly, she began sneaking down the corridor, peeking at the occupants and contents of each room before moving on. She could read the signs, no doubt, but it would take too long - she was barely literate despite her best efforts. Heightened intelligence and enhanced brain processing and speeds could only help so much without the practice and experience that came with time. It was why she wanted so much to go to school - and it wasn't just for the fun and the feeling of normalcy.

Whenever a person passed by, she had to avoid bumping into that person. After several rooms and no Detective Marion, a group of officers had formed a wall unknowingly against her, and she had to fly up to avoid them. It was a close call, as one of them felt the wind that came with her flight, but again, the lengths a person would go to ignore certain stimuli when he couldn't see anything was a wonder.

Bunny would painstakingly scour through the entire third floor of the police station this way before concluding that her target wasn't on that floor. She was beginning to tire, the core of her being hollowed out. It would have been manageable had it just been the constant drain of her cloaking field, but she had to leap great distances and fly before she even reached the police station, and she found herself flying to avoid unaware cops all too often…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. New Harlem. Crowe Apartments.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1650.**

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had been briefed on the Black Brothers gang of New Harlem by the police chief Feig himself. They were said to be a highly hypocritical bunch, initially formed to protect the blacks in the district back in the 40s and 50s, but had since become a parasite living on the local New Harlem subculture, collecting 'protection money', smuggling in narcotics to the detriment of impressionable young men and women, turning them into either their piggy banks or workhorses (of many kinds).

Feig, in particular, had shown great disdain for the gang during his briefing, though why he hated this particular gang more than the others was a mystery to the Girls.

'They should be wiped off the face of this Earth, their kind,' the police chief had said during the briefing, in no uncertain terms. 'No one will say a thing. They resisted arrest, End of story.'

After being given the location of the gang's hideout, the Powerpuff Girls were off. Midway in transit to New Harlem, however, Blossom stopped both of her sisters and got them to float high up into the sky for a discussion.

"What now?" Buttercup asked, annoyed at Blossom. She had been looking forward to some bloodbath the whole time - she wasn't really even paying attention to the police chief of Precinct 77 as she was dreaming up many different ways to maim a man all the while. To suddenly be stopped on her way to a day of bloody fulfillment was more than what she was willing to take.

"Oh, so you can talk now?" Blossom criticized Buttercup sarcastically. She had rarely used that tone of voice before, but after enduring so much of what she saw as 'injustices', she couldn't resist it any longer.

"Blossom, Buttercup, please!" Bubbles tried to break them apart - though not physically… yet. "Be sweet to each other… We're sisters…"

"Fine," Blossom said, before crossing her arms and pouting a little.

"Hey, that's my pose!" Buttercup complained after crossing her own arms.

"Look, we need to fight crime soon," Blossom explained why they stopped.

"Well, duh!" Buttercup interrupted, earning herself a glare from Blossom.

"-And we need to talk about how we're going to do that," Blossom said.

"Do we talk to them first?" Bubbles guessed.

"That's close, actually," Blossom said, smiling. Good ol' Bubbles, the angel who had always been on her side. Every single time she had used the past to spite her had been regretful, and she was hoping to learn to stop that soon. It was hard, as it had become almost involuntary, but it was the least she could do for her sweetest sister.

"No way! I say we beat them into pulp, like usual!" Buttercup insisted. If Bubbles was the angel, then what was she? Blossom couldn't help but notice that Buttercup had always brought out the worst in her.

"I've just been thinking that we've been killing too much…" Blossom said. She closed her eyes, and summoned up an image in her mind of a Dad she recalled from the past before Bunny joined the family. "And I remember what Dad said… That some of the bad guys just aren't really that bad. We shouldn't even be killing."

"Yeah, poor Mister Pang and his friends…" Bubbles said, remembering their last encounter with crime, both physically and mentally traumatic though it may be. "Poor Mister Exposito…"

"I don't care," Buttercup said. "It was fun killing them."

"But it's not!" Bubbles argued.

"Yes, it is!" Buttercup countered with equal childishness.

"It's not!" Bubbles argued back. "Won't you be upset and angry if I kill you?"

"People can't be upset OR angry when they're killed, stupid!" Buttercup scolded venomously, ticked off further by Bubbles' extreme naivety (even by little children's standards).

"But Dad will be upset AND angry if we hurt people!" Bubbles fought back, holding back tears. "No one will like it!"

"Which is why we're not going to kill anyone if we can help it," Blossom decided.

"If we can help it…" Buttercup echoed Blossom's words, adding her own meaning into it, with an emphasis on the word 'if'.

"Buttercup! I'm being serious!" Blossom chided her when she noticed what she did there. "No killing, unless someone's carrying like a Duranium gun or sword or something!"

"And even then…" Bubbles' voice trailed off. "Can't we just… try to be nice? We could just take their toys away. Maybe these people are just grumpy… I know I would be if I live in a place so dirty and full of yucky little animals like cockroaches and rats…"

"Right. We could try using our handcuffs - when's the last time we've used them anyway?" Blossom said, pulling out one of her handcuffs and showing it to her sisters. "We kept carrying around a few of those and we've never used them."

"I hate this!" Buttercup exclaimed, looking away from Blossom. "Just when I thought I was about to have some fun! This stinks!"

Blossom sighed. She never expected Buttercup to understand. As was usual most of the time, Buttercup was Buttercup - just like how the sun would rise in the east and set in the west. "Let's go…" Blossom said dejectedly, starting to fly forward again. Bubbles followed eagerly, glad that things were changing for the better, and that soon, things would be back to how it used to be - bloodless and nicer.

Right there and then, dark thoughts were running through Buttercup's mind. She was actually considering killing her sisters then and there before making a run for it. Or to make things simpler, just simply flying off into the horizon, never to return. But the thought of just being on her own scared her more than she thought it would. Where would she even sleep? How would she eat? Where would she get water? How would she obtain fresh underwear and clothes? Armor? Weapons? Ammo? Grenades? How would she even find bad guys to kill?

"Buttercup, come on!" Blossom had stopped and yelled at her from afar.

"We need your help!" Bubbles called out to her.

"I hate this!" Buttercup screamed and gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to fly over to Bubbles and punch her teeth out. Reluctantly, she decided to play along… For now.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Old Town. Pioneer Avenue. Precinct 13.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1652.**

After descending down to the second floor, deftly squeezing past a rather fat cop holding a cup of coffee and a donut, Bunny began a new search pattern, first checking out the rooms on the eastern wing before setting out for the western wing.

However, a familiar feeling of unease was rising in her once more. It was that little itch in her nose, and as mere seconds passed, it had graduated to pain. 'Oh no! No, not now!' Bunny thought frantically. She remembered passing by the washrooms on this floor. Abandoning all thoughts of the mission, she retraced her steps towards the washroom. She felt like sneezing, and she couldn't hold it in for much longer, and so she flew into the women's washroom. It was only due to luck that there was no one there to notice the door, which seemed to open and close on its own.

She was barely inside when it happened. Clutching the sides of a washing basin, she sneezed into it. Immediately, she saw her invisibility field fading away from the mirror. She could see her own hands. But it was the sight in the washing basin that got her. There was a large splotch of blood there, as if from a serious laceration. 'What's… happening to me?' Bunny thought. Before she could complete it, there was the sound of a stall door opening.

Turning to the source of the noise, she saw a woman officer walking out of the stall, still working on her utility belt. It didn't take long for the cop to notice Bunny. Her response, however, took way too long - all she did was to stare at Bunny as if she was unable to believe that an 8-year-old equivalent wearing a set of dark purple military fatigue and black combat gear was floating in the air before her. She wouldn't get a chance to respond when Bunny zipped towards her, muffling her completely with one hand as she drew her Duranium combat knife with her other hand. In her panic, the police officer tried to draw her gun, but her utility belt had already fallen down on the floor as it hadn't been buckled yet. Slamming the female cop back down on her toilet seat, Bunny thrust her knife into her throat without hesitation.

The muffled scream did not last long as Bunny had cut below the vocal cord. Soon, it was just gurgling blood, mixed with air escaping from a hole in the officer's neck, blood spurting out in shocking volumes. Bunny had narrowly avoided a splash, though she still had spatters on her.

"I'm sorry…" Bunny whispered into the cop's ear as the woman convulsed from hemorrhagic shock and suffocation, before leaning back to look at her again. The cop's eyes were wide open in shock, life draining out of it rapidly, before slowly, very slowly, as if one was going to sleep, shutting for one final time.

When Bunny was convinced she was dead, she floated backward, horrified by what she had done. The female cop was a threat, but it didn't necessarily mean she was bad. She took another glance at the cop's face, which was half-covered by a mat of black hair. Tears prickled her eyes. The dead cop reminded her of her Mom, somehow. She read the nametag on her uniform. Officer Clarissa Adams.

"This is Rook. I'm hearing some strange stuff from my earpiece. What's going on? Over," Bunny heard Rook's voice in her own earpiece.

"I was caught, but I… killed the witness," Bunny whispered into her mic.

"Proceed with the mission. We will talk about this later. Over and out," Rook said and stayed silent as quickly as he came in.

Stifling a cry, Bunny proceeded to close the stall door from the inside. She locked it before flying out from above. Glancing at the door, she saw no one there. She focused on her hearing, enhancing it. No one was approaching. Quickly, she flew to the washing basin to wash off whatever blood she had on her blade and face, before turning invisible again…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. New Harlem. Crowe Apartments.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1657.**

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had introduced themselves the only way they knew how, or cared to do so: By crashing through the windows of the district's dominant gang, the Black Brothers. The only foresight and planning Blossom had managed was to scan the many windows of the apartment building in search of the gang's Big Brother.

And she'd hit the jackpot when she saw the surest sign of gang activity - a huge group of armed men. The Big Brother and his lieutenants, the Mid Bros, were holding a discussion in their ancient apartment when the Powerpuff Girls smashed through the windows and landed. All around them, guns were drawn. There was a symphony of metal clicks and clangs, one that Blossom had decided not to contribute to.

"Mister Lydel Lucas?" Blossom called out to no one in particular. She didn't dare move too much and hadn't seen where Big Brother was. The sofa was blocking the way, as were a few mobsters. "I wanna talk!"

There was a pregnant pause, a tense moment with dozens of itchy fingers on triggers waiting to be pushed. There were about eight men around a coffee table - the leaders of the gang, presumably. Around the Girls were twenty others, likely trusted right-hand men and buttons and bodyguards entrusted with the deepest secrets the gang could keep.

Hushed murmurs followed after that.

"The Powerpuff Girls? Talk?" one gangster said, though Blossom could barely make out the words. Buttercup heard It loud and clear.

"They're just playin', I know it," another one of them guessed.

Just then, someone stood up - a surprisingly young man in his mid-twenties, wearing an earthy-colored suit. Like most other mob bosses, he wore a lot of rings and a necklace, but unlike most other mob bosses, he had an earring on one of his ears as well - a short, golden thing hugging his earlobe closely.

"You wanna talk? So talk," Mister Lydel Lucas said, firmly but with a face that bore the kind of hostility an enemy would. He had only a cane in his hand, not a gun or a sword, but it had only done more to emphasize his authority. He didn't need weapons to project himself, to intimidate.

For some reason, Blossom could feel her entire body shaking with nervousness. When was the last time she had to negotiate? What was worse was that the distant wail of police sirens had added urgency into the mix, and Blossom knew that police sirens make criminals jumpy.

Blossom took in a deep breath before kicking herself up to a floating position so that she and the Big Brother could speak face-to-face properly. This had caused some alarm in some of the mob guards; where they had previously relaxed a little, they raised their guns again. The man himself gestured for them to lower their pieces.

"Urm… I'm supposed to kill all of you-" Blossom stated plainly, and was quickly interrupted.

"Is that the best you can do?" the Big Brother said. "I'm shakin' in my boots." His taunt drew some laughter, some understandably nervous, others arrogantly so.

"But I don't want to," Blossom said.

"Well, I really want to!" it was Buttercup's turn to interrupt Blossom, who promptly shushed her down.

"Is that right? Who sent you?" the Black Brothers boss questioned the leader of the Powerpuff Girls.

"Urm… the police?" Blossom replied, somehow gaining an innocent look despite the weapons and gear she was packing.

"And by police, you mean Police Chief Paul Feig and his posse?" Lydel Lucas guessed - and accurately too.

Blossom lowered her head in shame - for some reason she couldn't realize immediately, she felt shame for having followed the police chief's orders, and in effect, the Amoeba Boys'. It didn't take long for her to realize she felt that way because she had been led by them to kill a good number of people, almost too many to count.

"Yes…" Blossom admitted. The Big Brother laughed, looking around the room as he did. Some of his men laughed along with him.

"What's so funny?" Buttercup scolded. Bubbles had been silent the whole time - she shared Blossom's shame, though she had little to do with it as her body count had been very low.

"Now, I was thinking that it couldn't possibly be true - all that crap about you girls being all goody two shoes and idealistic and all that nonsense," the Big Brother said, gesticulating wildly, almost jubilantly, much to the Girls' confusion. "But I don't know, maybe it's not all fascist propaganda."

"What do you mean?" Blossom asked, confused. There were so many big words being thrown around, words she would not come to know until years later. As it was, she could only understand half of it, but it was the essential half of it: that somehow, against all odds, she had impressed the gang leader, and that they now believed her to be good despite… some of the terrible things she had done, things that she was sure these people knew about.

"Nevermind," Lydel said. "So tell me, Miss Blossom, what do you want?"

"I don't have to kill you, but I have to arrest you," Blossom said. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Arrest me? Hey! You come into my turf-" Lydel began shouting, infuriated.

"She's being nice!" Bubbles yelled suddenly. "She- we killed the others, but she's being nice now!"

"Too nice, actually," Buttercup added. Her LMG was twitching, rearing to go off.

"So we're supposed to just put down our guns and let you cuff us like a buncha niggers? Fuck ya'll and fuck that! I ain't going to some pig's pen to be treated like dirt!" the leader of the Black Brothers yelled aggressively; it wasn't a mystery to Blossom that she had offended him, somehow.

"But- It's not like that!" Blossom struggled to explain her viewpoint, nearly brought to tears by the harsh language dished out by Lydel.

"You're a bunch of no-good criminals who should've been killed a gazillion minutes ago!" Buttercup yelled back, frustrated at the lack of violence, and death, and gore, seconds away from just giving up on restraint and doing things her way - why she still relied on Blossom to decide what to do was beyond her. Was it a habit? Buttercup wasn't sure - but she was sure that it had something to do with that strange sensation coming from her head, that sensation that sometimes gave her a headache.

"Yeah, says a bunch of 5-year-old white bitches who know nothing about life!" Lydel shouted.

"We're four months old, actually…" Blossom corrected, a comment that raised a good number of eyebrows around the room. "Can't we just be friends?"

"Yeah, right. How bout if I put one between your eyes? And then we can talk about being friends." the mob boss threatened. Blossom did not reply. It was all happening again - all the violence, the hate.

"You can't beat us," Buttercup warned the gangsters all around the room.

"You have no idea what we're packing," Lydel said, and before anyone knew it, the room had become a thunderstorm of flashes and lead and explosions.


	111. Chapter 104: The Trial (Part 3)

**Chapter 104: The Trial (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Old Town. Pioneer Avenue. Precinct 13.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1655.**

It was a close call. Bunny considered herself lucky that she hadn't been discovered yet, but then again, the women's washroom wasn't frequented much, owing to the few female cops in the building; women from the public weren't allowed on the second floor. After that close call in the washroom, Bunny began going through each and every room once more.

Thankfully, she didn't have to go to the ground floor. She could tell with her enhanced hearing that the first floor was the busiest of them all. While hugging the wall, Bunny leaned out of a corner by the door, spying on the subject of her mission: Detective Marion. The man was thirty-something. True to his profile picture, he was Caucasian, with dark brown hair and blue-green eyes. And he was busy writing… something on a stack of papers.

Those stack of papers looked like evidence. She was so close and yet so far. With Marion on top of his papers, there was no way she could sneak them away without being detected. So Bunny waited, and waited…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. New Harlem. Crowe Apartments.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1701.**

It was absolute chaos in the cramped apartment.

"Buttercup, right, Bubbles, left!" Blossom had ordered quickly as bullets began to fly.

"No killing!" she added on the fly as she shot for the Big Brother, Lydel Lucas himself, but his Mid Bros and guards surrounded him, shielding him and firing uzis and other machine pistols at her. Bullets peppered Blossom, putting holes in her armor and uniform as she gave one guard an upper-cut, then another a punch across the cheek. She wrestled another to the ground, kneeing him in the face so hard, he couldn't even shout in pain as he'd fainted immediately.

Bubbles was aiming her ion beams at the feet of her targets, flooring them with the sheer pain of what could only be described as electrocution and burning rolled into one, though she did try to keep the intensity of her beams down to the minimum.

Buttercup, in the meantime, was doling out wallops that she wasn't sure could spare lives - not that she cared. All that mattered was that she was having fun. The sound of bone-crunching, however, was worrying to everyone around her.

In this pandemonium, doors were kicked open, and more men were streaming in. All three Girls looked and saw shining metal with their Duranium vision. Duranium! In the form of guns!

"Watch out!" Blossom screamed before flying into another gangster, knocking him out of the way - she flew into a group of Duranium gunners who were coming in from another room in the apartment. Knocking them all over the place before they could shoot.

But there was another group of them who were able to fire their weapons, and Buttercup was caught out in the open before Blossom and Bubbles were able to knock them out with their respective non-lethal ocular beams.

The vast majority of the Duranium guns hadn't hit home, of course, with some suffering chamber explosions and falling their own users while others simply too poorly machined to be accurate. Buttercup had brought up her energy shield, blocking the remainder, but she did feel one bullet in her stomach before falling over, her ocular laser beam slicing the ceiling and when she did.

"Buttercup!" Blossom screamed. Her sister! Wounded! Rounding about almost instantly, Blossom flew into Lydel Lucas, who had pulled an ornate pistol out of his jacket and fired a few rounds, only to miss when she flew in a wavy pattern. She collided with him fists-first, causing him to get blown off his feet, landing on his coffee table - all four legs of the furniture broke, as did the wooden surface such that the mob boss ended up lying in it as one would in a bathtub.

It was calm after that. The Black Brothers' leadership had been defeated. How many were killed from the misapplied force, Blossom had yet to count, but most of the Black Brothers were either moaning or writhing on the ground, which was a good sign.

Then there was laughter. Blossom recognized the voice to be Lydel Lucas'. She flew up higher than the sofa and found him on the floor, clutching his stomach. Lydel had migrated from his coffee table, for what purpose, Blossom did not know and didn't care to - what could the Big Brother accomplish with just a few feet of crawling?

"What's so funny?" Blossom asked, mad that the mob boss did not make the right choice for the sake of everyone. "Are you happy now? I didn't want this but you made me do it."

"Oh, nothing, just everything," the Big Brother said, wincing every so often. He stopped for some time as he nursed his stomach. "Getting beaten by a trio of girls - I ain't ever going to get over that - all that irony in your claims. And even after all that, you were right in the end-"

"It's over now, anyway. I'm bringing you in-" Blossom interrupted, pulling out a set of handcuffs. Lydel, however, went on as if he didn't hear her.

"-But I gotta do what I do and you gotta do what you do-"

"and I'm telling everyone you hurt my sister-"

"-you ain't ever gonna stop, and neither will I!" Lydel yelled and leaped for a Duranium pistol that Blossom had only noticed until now - she had been so absorbed in talking to the man that she had forgotten her surroundings.

He pointed the gun at Blossom and fired. Bubbles gave a surprised shout. Blossom saw where the gun was pointed and faded left. The bullet ripped through her earlobe. Blossom returned fire with a stunning infrared beam, knocking the mob boss out.

"Blossom, you're hurt!" Bubbles flew over to her, freaking out over Blossom's torn earlobe. The lower half had been pierced by the Duranium bullet with such force that it had torn the lower half in two. Blossom winced when Bubbles notified her of her injury, which had only begun to hurt after the fact.

"Buttercup's hurt worse," Blossom simply said.

With the Big Brother out of the way, Blossom turned to check on her wounded sister, Buttercup and saw that she was still on the ground, clutching her stomach. Her eyes were closed. Blossom flew to her side, cradling her in her arms. When Buttercup's eyes fluttered open, however, she pushed Blossom away, falling back to the floor and yelling in pain.

"Buttercup, what's wrong with you?" Blossom questioned her sister. She had been behaving oddly, giving the entire family the cold shoulder.

"Why do you even care!?" Buttercup said. Bubbles flew between them.

"Of course Blossom cares, she's your sister…" Bubbles said. To that, however, Buttercup had an odd reaction.

Buttercup snorted at the fact. "If only you know," she said vaguely.

"What do you mean?" Bubbles said, utterly confused.

"Forget it, I'm fine on my own," Buttercup averted the question. With gritted teeth, she forced herself to stand up, but after taking a few steps towards the window, she would have fallen down again had Blossom not held her up. This time, she didn't have the strength to fight her off.

"Let me go!" she'd still stubborn resist, however.

"Not this time, Buttercup. Like it or not, I'm helping you because I care about you," she said. Buttercup gave up after that and went limp in her arms. Her stomach wound was burning, and, though she would hate to admit it, it felt quite serious.

Taking one final look around, Blossom saw that very few of the gangsters were killed and some of them were coming round. One thing that Blossom noticed was that the few who were killed were on Buttercup's side of the battle. However, that would be a topic of discussion for another time as Blossom needed to tend to Buttercup's injury first. Just on time, police officers were streaming through the front door, backed by a SWAT team picking up the rear. All of them had their guns up.

"Powerpuff Girls! Good job busting these boys up!" the leading police officer, someone almost as shady as Police Chief Feig, said. After taking a look around and checking the pulse of one of the gangsters, however, he became less than kind. "They're all alive." He'd said it with some venom in his voice. It was clear what he wanted. "I think you Girls have done enough here. We'll do the rest."

"Please be nice to them," Blossom said. "We didn't-"

"I said we'll do the rest. Now get lost!" the lead police officer scolded.

With that, the Girls flew away through the window, with Blossom carrying Buttercup in her arms like a baby.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Old Town. Pioneer Avenue. Precinct 13.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1704.**

For nearly ten minutes, Bunny had waited for something to happen, anything that could give her a chance to grab some evidence and escape unnoticed. Yet, there was nothing so far. Detective Marion, the subject of her mission this time, had just been sitting there, writing, and writing. How adults could be so patient with scribbling paragraphs upon paragraphs of tiny little words was beyond her.

But just when she was about to try a more radical approach, a uniformed police officer walked into Marion's office and hand-delivered a letter.

"Here's 'it' for today," the officer said, in a rather deliberate and peculiar language. Bunny peeked at the two bent cops and saw Marion slip his partner-in-crime a wad of cash.

"Don't mention it," Marion said, putting multiple meanings into his words through a fake, deliberate tone. He waited for the uniformed officer to leave, then stood up, cracked his back, and made his way towards the door. Bunny knew what he was going to do - it was often what people with secrets do, after all - and stole her way into the office. The detective closed his door and locked it.

Returning to his chair, he lit a cigarette up and began taking a few puffs. Bunny hated the smell, so she tried to stay as far away from the detective as possible, and ended up sitting in a corner. This went on for a few minutes before the detective went over to his window and opened it up to let in some fresh air. A wintry wind blew in almost immediately, but it wasn't as cold as it used to be. In a week or two, it would be spring.

Pulling his half-smoked cigarette out of his mouth and leaving it on his ashtray, it was only then that the detective opened the envelope. Bunny let herself float up to see what he was doing.

He'd taken out a large stack of money as well as a letter. 'That had to be it!' Bunny thought - but she was powerless to do anything more. She had to be undetected, as it was part of the mission parameters. She'd thought about knocking the detective out and taking the letter, but she hadn't seen what it actually contained yet, suspicious though the detective was.

For a while, Bunny froze as the detective read his letter, unsure of what to do. She wanted to read the letter too, but she was afraid that she might lose control of her flight and collide with something, and neither was she confident that she could fly close to the detective without alerting him to her presence due to the wind. What if the detective decided to get up again? He could collide with her then! There was an endless list of things that could go wrong, and it was sweating Bunny out.

Instead, time had decided things for her. The detective stopped reading the letter before folding it up. Picking up his cigarette again, he started smoking it once more. After a few more puffs, he stuffed the letter into his ashtray and stuck his cigarette into it. Bunny was horrified! The evidence!

The fourth Powerpuff Girl had to actually physically stop herself from screaming when it happened. The detective, in the meantime, was rounding his desk in a hurry to walk out of his office. He'd done it so fast that he nearly ran into Bunny and would have, had Bunny not hovered sideways to dodge him.

Floating over to the ashtray, trying her best to ignore the horrible smell, Bunny had wanted to rescue the letter, but she had to look up at the door to see if the detective was looking. Every second became precious; the cigarette embers had given birth to a ring of fire on the paper, and it was spreading quickly. The detective couldn't leave as quickly as he'd wanted to either because he had to undo the lock on his door and open it.

After that, the detective went through the door, and as if to punish Bunny without knowing it, look around his room one last time before shutting the door and locking it from the outside. Bunny immediately fished the burning letter out of the ashtray and smothering the ring of fire after that with her palm. She opened the letter frantically to read it, and much to her dismay, much of the bottom half was ashes and unrecognizable even with her acute sense of sight.

_'M,_

_I got 3000 greens here for the murder at the Tenements, Javier Street Apartment 3, unit 5. I know the coppers who will be guarding the crime scene at 11pm today. I need you to pin it on a troublesome gang local to the area known as the Snakes._

_Also, your next hit of His Secret will be delivered to you this Friday. Use it while-'_

And that was all. Even Bunny could tell that so much had been lost. But it was not the time for her to cry over spilled milk, as she could hear agitated shouting coming from the outside. She peaked her hearing and heard someone, a woman, screaming about an officer being down and the building being infiltrated by a hitman. Not wanting to be found, Bunny flew out the window.


	112. Chapter 105: Surprise

**Chapter 105: Surprise**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1832.**

As Bunny rode her bike home, she was deeply disturbed by how her bleeding had become more severe as time passed, and she had too much time to think about it. After her very first stealth mission, she had to attend debriefing. Right after that, General Blackwater had sent for her, and so she had to travel to the USDO HQ - but it wasn't for a reunion with her mentor. She was given the honor of briefing the USDO's Anti-Corruption Squad, which required her to prepare and rehearse (and her eidetic memory helped) and finally attend the briefing as the speaker.

It was only when that was over and done with that she was allowed to return home. General Blackwater had wanted her to climb the ropes of leadership, but at that time, Bunny had only longed to return to Dad.

Exhausted from fighting crime, Bunny took her time while she drove home on her bike, slowing to speeds acceptable to the traffic police, not that it had stopped them from pulling her over. By the time The House was visible in front of her, it was turning dark, as whatever remained of the winter clouds continued to block most of the diminishing sunlight.

Something was wrong. The lights in The House had gone dark. Bunny's mind had immediately gone back to that time when The House was breached by the Smiths, and Dad was wounded as a result. Fearing for the worst, Bunny drove into the garage faster.

The garage, too, was dark. This time, her thoughts returned to that luxury apartment in the Tenements area, when Mojo Jojo jumped out of the darkness and put an Agony Bolt in her shoulder. For some reason, she recalled the terrifying look of the face-dancer as she returned to her original form. That memory still had the power to send chills down her spine.

Feeling the goosebumps, Bunny pulled her night-vision goggles over her eyes and switched it on. Something was up. Something must be up! Dad must be in trouble! Drawing her Duranium combat knife and pistol, Bunny crossed her arms for support, weapons pointed forward, and ready to fire and strike.

Ahead of her, the door between the garage and the living room was conveniently ajar. Using her blade, she pushed it open. Coming through, she scanned the left and right of the door for ambushing enemies. There were none.

The living room was completely dark. An even worse idea entered her mind while she crossed the living room gingerly, weapons still up. Was this all a nightmare? Would she meet that demon-thing in the dark soon, its eyes shining red?

After checking behind the couches and the stairs for ambushes, only to find nothing, Bunny crossed over to the kitchen, her arms shaking from fear and nervousness. What's happening? Thoughts that she had already lost her family kept flashing in her mind.

That was when it happened.

Before she could even enter the kitchens, the lights in that area were switched on all of a sudden. She was blinded as she still had her night-vision goggles on. Swiftly pulling it off, more out of reflex and pain than anything, Bunny squinted, unable to see clearly. Her hearing took over, and thankfully it did.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!" a choir was singing to her, the only thing stopping her from firing her pistol wildly. She recognized the voices. Dad. Mom. Blossom and Bubbles. Where was Buttercup? It didn't matter for now. Bunny was sure Buttercup was fine, just like the rest of her family. Lowering her weapon, she took in the rest of the lyrics: "Happy birthday to Bunny! Happy birthday to you!" There were others as well. Was it Agent Blake and his squad? She could hear even more voices, some recognizable, others less so, and still others, completely unknown.

Tears fell, and it wasn't just because of the sudden brightness of the light.

"You turned the lights on too fast, you blinded the poor kid!" Bunny heard Agent Blake say with a laugh, amidst the sound of party poppers going off and people blowing their party trumpets.

When her vision cleared, Bunny could finally see what was going on. Mom was holding out a massive birthday cake in front of her, and Dad stood beside her, an arm lovingly around her. Blossom and Bubbles were hovering behind them, blowing party trumpets. In the kitchen, Agent Blake and the core members of his squad were looking out from behind a counter. Alice was at the kitchen doorway, as was Doctor Simmons, Doctor Vanum, and some members of the USDO Research Division. Everyone was wearing conical hats, and Agent Fields had jogged up to her to remove her night-vision goggles and affix a purple crown on her head.

"Put away your weapons, darling, it's a special occasion," Mom said. "Make a wish and blow out the candles."

"I…" Bunny was about to make the classic mistake when Dad interrupted her.

"Ah, ah! Keep your wish to yourself," Dad said, before giving Mom a peck on the cheek. "Close your eyes and make your wish, then blow out the candles. It's tradition, honey."

Bunny did as she was told, stoppering her tears at the same time to the best of her abilities. She closed her eyes. Her lips were still moving as she thought about her wish, and when she was done, she opened her eyes and blew out the single candle on the cake. With her lung capacity, it was impossible for the candle flame to survive. It went out immediately.

It was only then and there, after executing Dad's orders, that Bunny let go of herself, and tears resumed falling and she sniffled and gasped, crying.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Dad asked. Blossom and Bubbles hovered close by.

"We didn't scare you too much, did we?" Bubbles asked.

"Nothing- I was afraid that-" Bunny struggled to speak. "Something happened- to all of you-"

"No way, it can't be!" Blossom contributed, and this time, she was genuinely doing so. "If General Blackwater made you a corporal, I'm sure you made sure we're safe."

"You mean it?" Bunny asked.

"Sure, I do," Blossom lied. No, she didn't believe it. But it was the right thing to say. It'd mend their relationship, and made Bunny happier. Dad would have approved of it.

"Two weeks old! I can hardly believe it myself," Professor Utonium said. "I can still remember explicitly when you couldn't even speak or walk."

"Me too…" Bunny said, embarrassed enough that she was blushing. Thankfully, no mention was made of how she couldn't control her bowels in the beginning, when her family and friends were all around her.

They would cut the cake after that. Numerous photos were taken for posterity. Fun and games were had, but it wouldn't last. Though distracted, Bunny eventually caught up with what happened to her sisters as Blossom and Bubbles were eager to open up about their adventures fighting crime. Blossom thought she did a good job, saving so many criminal lives when they could have died very easily. Bunny had kept it to herself as she didn't wish to ruin the occasion, but Blossom's ear injury told her that she had only been lucky to be able to return home alive. A few more inches, and Blossom might have sustained a fatal head injury. Buttercup was the greatest indicator of her sisters' inability to fight crime.

Bunny had found out that Buttercup had been shot in the stomach. The bullet had gone right through her energy shield before embedding itself in her stomach. However, the bullet was slowed by the shield and had stopped at the muscular wall of the stomach, springing 'only' a microscopic leak of her gastric fluid. Still, it was an internal injury that required a quick surgery and a night in the lab.

Only Bubbles remained unscathed, but since both Blossom and Buttercup were injured, she felt like an exception to the rule, and that luck had allowed her to avoid injury.

It'd proven Bunny's fears. Her sisters needed protection and certainly did not need to fight crime on their own. Why General Blackwater insisted on putting them back on the frontlines, Bunny could not understand.

Feeling sorry for Buttercup, Bunny took a couple of slices of her birthday cake and descended down to the bowels of The House. While everyone was partying upstairs, Bunny saw Buttercup lying alone on a patient bed, doing absolutely nothing but staring at the ceiling. How Buttercup could stand that, Bunny did not know. She didn't even have picture books with her, or toys. Topless, the bandage around her stomach was clear. It was thick, and Bunny could see faint traces of blood around the center. Buttercup still had her military trousers on, but she was barefooted. She was connected to an ECG and an alarm in case her vitals went off the scale. A bag hung far above her, containing fluids flowing down a tube, the needle, and into her vein.

"Hey, Buttercup," Bunny said, tried to be as friendly as possible. She knew how anti-social Buttercup was, but she had to try. Setting down the dish of cake slices, she clutched the border of the bed, smiling.

"What do you want?" Buttercup asked, no, interrogated her tersely, her voice dry, eyes still staring at the ceiling.

"It's my birthday," Bunny said, with an expectant smile.

"Big deal," Buttercup dismissed it all, singlehandedly wiping the smile off Bunny's face as if she had just slapped her. "I've celebrated like five of those."

"It's my first birthday…" Bunny asked. She thought about Blossom and how she had participated in the party despite the friction in their sisterly relationship. Why can't Buttercup be nice like how Blossom could be or sweet like Bubbles? "Aren't you happy for me?"

"Why should I be?" Buttercup asserted with increasing annoyance in her voice. She had wanted to face away from Bunny and her irritating mug with its messy teeth, but her wound would hurt whenever she tried.

"Because you're my big sister?" Bunny said, and by doing that, she had only earned a condescending snort from Buttercup.

"If only you know," she said. "I don't even like you. No, I HATE you."

Bunny was puzzled by what Buttercup was saying. How could it be possible that she would hate her? Shouldn't sisters love each other?

"That's not true," Bunny said, unable to believe the stuff that was coming out of Buttercup's mouth. "You're joking, right? You're really funny, Buttercup…" Bunny tried to laugh, but it came out bitter and lower-sounding than usual, succeeding only to annoy Buttercup even more.

"I'm serious, Braces. You're ugly, stupid, and annoying, and I want you to go away," Buttercup said and immediately stopped regarding her, leaving Bunny on uncertain footing, unsure of what else she should do, or could do. Shifting her eyes around, they eventually landed on the two slices of cake she brought down. They gave her an idea.

Picking up the plate of cakes, she brought it closer to Buttercup. Bunny had already eaten a slice, and it was delicious. The smell was equally sweet, like Bubbles. Who could resist it?

"Give it a try, Buttercup," Bunny insisted, pushing the plate of cake closer to her face. "Please?"

'Maybe if Buttercup ate some of her cake, she would change her mind?' Bunny thought, hopeful that things would change since so many things did.

"I said GO AWAY!" Buttercup roared, smacking away the plate of cake, shattering Bunny's hope along with the porcelain plate. Bunny backed away, clutching her hand - Buttercup had struck her in her rage - whether intentional or accidental, it didn't matter.

Bunny couldn't help but scrunch up her face in utter misery as she tried in vain to stifle her tears, unlike before. Crouching down, she wept as she picked up the pieces of broken plate and cake and hope. Half the plate was still intact, and she used it to scoop up the remains of the two slices of cake. After that, she straightened up, still sniffling and weeping.

"You know what I wished for, Buttercup?" Bunny said. Buttercup didn't look like she was listening, but she went on nonetheless. "I wish that we are one big, happy family. All of us."

Buttercup did not stir. She didn't even look in her direction. She didn't care. Wiping her tears away with one free hand, Bunny got the message: it was a hopeless endeavor, trying to get closer to Buttercup. With that, she walked away, leaving Buttercup alone in the labs. Going up the stairs, she wanted to rejoin the rest of her family and friends but realized that she couldn't let them see her like this. Halfway up the stairs, she sat down on the steps, setting the broken plate of smashed cake and hopelessness on her lap, a symbol of her misery to ruminate on.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1857.**

The Professor had been catching up with Doctor Vanum and the rest of his former subordinates from the USDO's research division during the party. Doctor Vanum remained the acting head of the research division, and due to his good work in synthesizing more Anti-X and designing weapons that employ them, he was on his way to securing his position as head of research in an official capacity. The USDO's research labs all over the continent had seen greater activity compared to previous months. Not only were they designing anti-enhanced weaponry, but they were also finalizing their power armor and mechanical infantry designs. This, however, was in collaboration with the USDO's sister agency, the Institute, which also had news.

The Institute used to be identical to the USDO back when both agencies were created simultaneously and had diverged in similarity only after a decade of differing leadership and focus. The USDO as the Organization became more militant, aggressive, and shadowy following repeated attacks by the Foundation and numerous ventures into fieldwork. The Institute remained defensive and isolated, and by the time the Foundation had set its sights on them, they were difficult to pinpoint. This made it ideal for the Institute to pursue the research of some of the most classified topics and technology. In time, they became more academic.

The USDO's scientific output was but a fraction of the Institute's, and much of what the USDO used had come from the Institute. The Institute had actually created two viable enhanced individuals long before the USDO did - the only problem was that they were unsuited for combat. One of them, however, was created with a brilliant mind and was soon put to work as a scientist and innovator. The other was highly nimble and prodigiously graceful, so she learned the ropes of security work. It was only recently that the USDO had outshined the Institute in scientific and technological progress, with the breakthroughs made by Professor Utonium in the creation of the Powerpuff Girls.

Now, the Institute was making steps towards going public, but in a different way from the USDO. They would secure funding and make key recruitment first, put all the pieces in place before emerging explosively as the USDTI, which was short for the United States Defense Technology Institute, positioning themselves as a national entity similar to DARPA (Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency), but dealing with more exotic science and technology, leaving more conventional pursuits to the latter. But unlike DARPA, they would be able to field their own forces. Given the choice, the professor would have preferred joining the Institute. Even their security forces were composed of individuals with achievements in the sciences, and would regularly volunteer as lab technicians.

Professor Utonium was deep in conversation with Doctor Vanum when he realized that Bunny was nowhere to be found. Searching all around him, he couldn't seem to find her.

"Dad!" Blossom flew up to the professor, holding a picture of a donkey with a tail pinned at the hind. "Look at this! I did this without using my x-ray eyes!"

"That's great, dear," the professor said dismissively without looking at her, his mind already filled to the brim with red flags, worried that something might have happened to Bunny. Which birthday girl would forsake her own birthday party?

"Dad, take a look!" Blossom demanded, desperate for even a little attention. However, Dad was set on finding Bunny instead. Taking Blossom by the sides, he plopped her down on where he used to sit.

"Blossom, have you seen Bunny?" the professor asked.

"No…" Blossom replied. She could feel it in her guts, once more. Bunny took precedence, again.

"How about if you talk to uncle Vanum here?" he said. "I'm sure he has plenty of stories to tell you. I need to look for the birthday girl."

Blossom gazed at Vanum dejectedly, hating it all.

"So, wanna hear about my molds and fungus collection?" Vanum tried to come up with the most interesting thing a kid would like, and Blossom hated that too.

The professor had gone off to search for Bunny. It didn't take him long to find out where she had gone. All he had to do was ask a few people where she was.

Going through the airlock and down the stairs to the lab, he encountered Bunny on the way down, sitting on the steps with a cracked plate holding two ruined slices of cake on her lap. Although he saw only her back, just her posture was enough to tell him that she was upset. Walking down to her, he sat down beside her, putting an arm around her.

"Are you okay, Bunny? The birthday girl shouldn't wander off from her party, you know…" the professor said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"Buttercup did this…" Bunny said, still weeping, lifting the broken plate of ruined cake for Dad to see. "She hates me."

"Nonsense," the professor said, even though he wasn't sure if Bunny's assertion was totally true. "She doesn't hate you. She's just… rough." And psychopathic. And murderous. The professor knew about Buttercup's… flaws, but decided not to discuss them at the moment. "You know how she's like. She'll warm up to you sooner or later."

"She said it herself. She said she hates me," Bunny said dejectedly.

"She did? Well, I think she's just mad," the professor went on to defend Buttercup, for both of the Girls' sake. "She was hurt quite badly today. She tends to get upset whenever that happens."

Bunny sniffled but had since calmed down a little.

"Really?" she asked, hopeful once again. Maybe she did catch Buttercup at the wrong time.

"I'm sure. I'll talk to her later. It'll all be fine," the professor said. "Why don't you go on up and enjoy the party? It's not right for the birthday girl to be all sad and alone on her birthday."

"Will you come with me?" Bunny asked.

"Sure," the professor said before standing up, holding hands with Bunny and leading her up.

All the while, Buttercup had been eavesdropping on them using her enhanced hearing ability. She resented Bunny for gaining the attention and favor of Dad. It was one thing she agreed with Blossom. Things had been going downhill ever since Bunny came into the picture. From being third place, she had been pushed down to the fourth place when it came to Dad's attention - at least that's from her perspective. She didn't like the idea of Bunny replacing her either - she wanted to fight! Why should Bunny get all the action?

* * *

**Security Report 03071989-B**

**DOC: 07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989**

**Created by: General Blackwater**

**Title: Tactical and Intelligence Overview**

As you know, the status quo has shifted significantly. While the Townsville Police Department was never trustworthy and clean, this problem has taken a whole new level with the assertions made by Lieutenant Mullens of the TPD's Lombardi Task Force. While Agent Rook has been directing the USDO's intelligence to ascertain the truth and appears to be on the edge of making new discoveries, I have decided to play along with the corrupted elements of the TPD for now, let my previous decisions follow through without any changes.

While this might seem bullheaded and tactless, the idea is to appear that way, let them think they're smart, and gaining the upper hand. The Powerpuff Girls will continue their law enforcement activities for whatever good it does - possibly helping whoever it was that could benefit from their intervention - and Bunny will help expose any underlying criminal intents in Police Chief Feig's law enforcement decisions. If and when we gain the intelligence we need, we will get the drop on our enemies within, possibly snap them up in one fell swoop without them suspecting it.

In other news, we have hit a new milestone in recruitment and troop deployment. We have just passed 1000 military personnel in Townsville (1032, more accurately), and this is with the casualties we have been suffering. This is important, as our current model of police-style law enforcement requires huge manpower. This will mean that we will be able to deploy more patrol units to assist the TPD in maintaining social order and suppressing crime.

Lastly, our research department has only been able to report inconclusive results when it comes to our biochemical warfare armaments. The Anti-X grenade launcher they have developed is promising, even though it has done little in its first field test. If Agent Blake's observations are correct, enhanced individuals appear to be weakened by this, and this has forced the one they were combating to retreat. More field tests will be needed to see if the Anti-X grenade launcher and the eggheads that produced it is of any use.


	113. Chapter 106: Sibling Rivalry

**Chapter 106: Sibling Rivalry**

'Dad… Mom… Blossom. Bubbles. Mister Blake, Miss Alice, Mister Simmons, Mister Vanum… Thanks for celebrating my birthday. I was feeling really down that day. I can't tell you about it but… I killed a policewoman. She just came up behind me and… I wasn't supposed to be seen. She seemed nice, too. She looked like Mom. She didn't even try to attack me when I flew up to her and cut her throat with my knife. Her name was Clarissa Adams. Poor Clarissa Adams - I'm so sorry (cries)

There's- there's one other thing. It's getting worse. I haven't said anything about it before, not even with Mister Sound Recorder here because I've been getting hurt bad... But… There's something wrong with me. I think I'm sick. I kept sneezing up blood or coughing up blood even though I wasn't hurt. I'm scared… I just hope it's like one of those flus you talked about getting when you were young. Maybe I'll be fine in a few days. I just feel… tired sometimes.

I wish Buttercup would be nice to me. Please be nice to her too, Dad. Maybe she's just like me? Maybe she's keeping some secrets she's forced to keep? Sometimes, I'd feel angry or really upset that I can't talk to anyone about these secrets. Maybe Buttercup's the same way? Just that I kept my anger down and Buttercup kept having accidents with her anger…

Sometimes I wish you'd know everything about my sound diary without hearing them. Would General Blackwater consider it 'leaking top-secret information' that way? I feel so alone like this…' - Bunny Utonium, 03/08/89, 0114. Sound Record File 14.

Addendum: B-50 went on to make up for previous days by making more sound recordings. Below is a list of subsequent sound files made in the early morning of 08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989.

Sound Record File 15: The content concerns mainly B-50's mission to arrest Police Chief Feig and how it went awry. She would go on to elaborate on both physical and mental trauma sustained, including a dream she had soon after the failed mission. She talked about feelings of disappointment at herself and having disappointed General Blackwater and Chief Intelligence Officer Rook, despite the two mentioned senior officers expressing no such thoughts to her. Some time was dedicated to her encounter with Director Cliff, and the further trauma she suffered, as well as General Blackwater and Corporal Nana's attempts to help her overcome them.

Sound Record File 16: She talks about her encounter with the enhanced being known as Lumpkins, and again, her disappointment with herself as well as grief that she could not put down the creature and thus end the threat it poses to her family.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1021.**

"Mac, stop!" Bunny pleaded with her classmate as she pushed him away with no small amount of force. He had been harrying her for some time ever since he'd seen the gear she had been packing. Undeterred, Mac reached for the katana on her back again, only to be pushed away. "Stop!"

Mac, however, wasn't discouraged. He continued making advances, laughing idiotically, as Bunny kept him back.

Blossom knew exactly what to do. She had been Mac's target for 'wargear molestation' until only recently when Bunny came in with something cooler in his eyes. After all, what's an MP5 submachine gun or a flashbang grenade compared to a real Japanese sword?

"Miss Keane! Mac's at it again!" Blossom called out to her teacher. Miss Keane slammed her book down on her desk, frustrated at Mac's repeated offenses.

"He's trying to pull my sword out!" Bunny complained.

"Mac! How many times must I say it?" Miss Keane scolded, wagging a finger at him. "Stop touching things that don't belong to you! Especially when it's a sword scavenged from a defeated enemy!" This time around, however, Miss Keane was confused by her own statement, by the ambiguous morality of it all. She had heard from Bunny's show and tell where she had gotten the sword from, and she had repeated things from it. Regardless, she pulled Mac towards the corner-time corner before he could object to it, or poke holes in the logic of her statement. It didn't take a rocket scientist to notice something wrong with what she had said, nor did it take much education to do so.

It had been frustrating for Miss Keane as of late, how the realities of a crime-ridden city seem to be seeping into her classroom more and more. It was making her job so much more difficult, and the double pay was starting to look less and less appealing, even if it did help her with her rent… and car maintenance… and cable TV money… and cat food… Well, her role as a care-giving, children-loving teacher mattered more.

The incident, on the other hand, had reminded Blossom of how insignificant she had become. It was show-and-tell day, but the moment her classmates saw Bunny's red-handled katana, they lost all interest in the stickman-robot she'd made with popsicle sticks and thumbtacks. When it was Bunny's turn for show-and-tell, Bunny had broken away with the program entirely and submitted to the demands of the class by talking about her sword! It was totally unfair! Blossom, Bubbles, and Bunny had planned their show-and-tell as an item, with Bubbles' self-made doll with moving parts and Bunny's mechanical guardian complementing her stickman-robot (though all of them were almost the same thing).

When the colorful face of the Powerpuff hotline started ringing again, it felt like comfort to Blossom. Seizing this opportunity to be important again, Blossom raced for the clown phone while Bunny was still reeling from Mac's wargear molestation. Picking up the phone possessively, she screamed into the receiver urgently, excited when she won the 'race': "Hello!? Mister Blake, is that you!?"

Blossom and Bubbles had a blast last night talking to Blake and his squad. He had so many stories to tell about his adventures while patrolling the outskirts of Townsville. In a way, Blake had given Blossom the paternal attention she was being starved of by Bunny's entry into the family, and she only wanted more of him… more of Dad, even if it had to be through a substitute.

"No," the voice on the other end of the clown phone said curtly, emotionlessly.

"Oh... Who-" Blossom was about to ask, but the man on the other end had read her mind.

"Chief of Intelligence Rook. Shouldn't Bunny be on the phone?" the man questioned the Powerpuff leader, reminding Blossom, like everyone else, of her waning influence and importance.

"Anyway, doesn't matter. I have something here that requires all four of you to pitch in- three of you, I mean, since you've indirectly caused Buttercup's incapacitation," Rook explained, never failing to put her down like General Blackwater. "The TPD has issued a warrant for the arrest of one of the most dangerous gangs of Townsville, besides the Lombardi. Police Chief Feig wants to brief you three himself. Fly to his office at Precinct 77. Pass the phone to Bunny."

Blossom did as she was told, and handed the phone over to her youngest sister.

"Hello?" Bunny greeted the man on the line.

"Bunny. You'll be encountering Feig today. Do not engage him. I repeat, do not engage him," Rook instructed her. "We have no proof that he's working for the bad guys yet. You'll work with him as an ally - we'll deal with him next time. Pass the phone back to Blossom."

Bunny returned the phone back to Blossom, who put it up to her ear.

"Bravo-four-seven. Bunny will be assisting you due to Bravo-four-eight's unavailability. Take good care of her. She's more valuable as an asset compared to you. If there's nothing else, I'm signing off. Get a move on and do your job."

It was only when Blossom was done with the phone call that she noticed that Bunny was standing beside her. Blossom couldn't hold back the frown on her face any longer. For a moment, they stood where they were, silent, as if in a standoff.

"Aren't you going to ask what that was about?" Blossom asked, at the same time trying to keep herself from blowing up once again - she knew she couldn't, and shouldn't, do it - not in front of Miss Keane and her classmates, not when she was slipping in popularity with them while Bunny had overtaken her as the star of the class.

"I don't need to. I heard everything," Bunny said, only to piss Blossom off even more, and it showed big time. Bunny had enhanced hearing, a fact that Blossom knew - and it was a fact that only served to anger her more, as Dad did not fail to boast and gush about how Bunny was gaining the ability of all three of her elder sisters, and more. He'd done that in front of Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, and he had done it yesterday at Bunny's birthday party. It was a fact that reminded Blossom of her apparent inferiority. "Are you mad at me?"

"N-no…! Not at all…!" Blossom struggled to speak, her voice shaking, a half-roar that was a confusion between restraint and anger. Taking in a deep breath, she called for the team to fly off once again in service of Townsville.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts, North. En route to Precinct 77.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1043.**

"Isn't this great!?" Bubbles cheered as the unprecedented team line-up was flying towards the Precinct 77. "It's the first time we're going to fight crime with Bunny!"

"Sure it is…" Blossom agreed unwillingly as she led her fractured team towards the meeting with Police Chief Feig. She didn't want to call her team the Powerpuff Girls today. As far as she was concerned, one of them wasn't a Powerpuff Girl, and would never be, not with the way she had been humiliating her despite all the kindness she'd been showing her.

"Am I a Powerpuff Girl now!?" Bunny exclaimed with joy at finally being able to fight crime next to her sisters.

"Of course you are," Bubbles proclaimed-

"No, she's not!" Blossom yelled in anger, stopping dead in her tracks, and Bubbles stopped simultaneously by virtue of her Sister Sense. Bunny had a delayed response, and had to turn around to rejoin Blossom and Bubbles.

"But, why?" Bubbles asked, which had only served to boil the rising rage in Blossom even further. Bubbles seemed to be sticking up for Bunny more than her lately, which was something she thought was unacceptable.

"Because I said so! I'm the leader!" Blossom finally exploded, showing her provisional lieutenant patch to both sisters. "And she's not a Powerpuff Girl!" She'd said that while pointing an accusing finger at Bunny as if she was some enemy in disguise. And when she was done, she flew off towards the precinct, only to stop when she sensed that Bubbles and Bunny weren't following. Looking at them, she could see the shock in Bunny's face and… Was that disgust on Bubbles' face?

"Are the two of you coming or something!?" Blossom shouted at both of them. Bunny and Bubbles exchanged looks, and now Bunny was upset. Bubbles patted her on the back when she saw how miserable she looked.

"There, there, Bunny," Bubbles comforted the youngest of the quartet. "I'm sure Blossom will start calling you a Powerpuff Girl after you show her how good you are at fighting crime!'

Bunny smiled, and Bubbles smiled back. Together, they followed Blossom. It wasn't long before they started descending down to the helipad on the roof of Precinct 77, as per standard operating procedures.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts, North. Precinct 77.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1051.**

As the Girls proceeded downstairs from the roof of Precinct 77, towards Police Chief Feig's office, they could hear all sorts of commotions - phones ringing, people screaming bloody murder or threats of additional charges, footsteps and running all over the place. It was a busy day at the office, and Precinct 77 was larger than most other police precincts on the outskirts. Blossom was silent as she led her same-aged and younger sisters. All Bubbles and Bunny could do were exchange stares, but Bunny was especially uncomfortable, especially considering what happened the last time she was in a police station.

People stared at them all the time. It was near impossible for a normal human being to get used to a Powerpuff Girl as being in the presence of one was still akin to winning a lottery ticket. This was all the more true for Bunny, who was an entirely new story in Townsville.

Before long, Blossom was knocking on the frosted glass door of 'Police Chief Paul Feig' (as it was printed on the door).

"Come in, come in," the police chief called out to them. Blossom opened the door, and the three of them entered.

Feig was on the phone, growling some orders into it. Upon noticing that the Girls were in, he muttered a quick 'call you later' before slamming the phone down. When he noticed Bunny though, he froze, appearing as though he'd seen a ghost.

Bunny locked eyes with Feig, aware that this was the man who'd been sending her sisters into what were essentially perilous war zones time and time again. She would have sliced him in half with ocular beam or samurai blade had there been no doubt that he was truly corrupt and working for the Lombardi dons. As it was, for now, there was no proof of that - the face-dancer might have just used his image to lure her in for an ambush, and might not be working with Feig after all.

All Bunny knew was that she couldn't attack Feig since she was ordered not to.

"Blossom, Bubbles… Who is this?" Feig asked, appearing more stoic than usual. He tended to be a bit more… passionate about his role whenever he had to talk in person.

"She's Bunny, Mister Feig. She's our youngest sister," Bubbles introduced Bunny, walking over to her to put an arm around her playfully. Blossom, on the other hand, froze - she felt like she was losing control. Now, everyone was acting without taking her into consideration, as though she was invisible.

"That makes sense, I guess," Feig made something up on the fly, before turning to Bunny. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his sweat, seemingly in a hurry to get rid of it. "You're famous on the news, missy. Congratulations. But fame won't help you in the nitty-gritty world of law enforcement, especially with the mandate we've been handed today, and today isn't like any other…" Feig was all fancy words today, all the Girls noticed, though only Bunny found it suspicious. Big words tend to have lots of meaning, some hidden inside words, some hidden by words.

"What kind of bad guys are we visiting, Mister Feig?" Blossom asserted herself. She didn't like Feig terribly much, but she found satisfaction when he turned to her.

"The worst of the worst, the most dangerous gang, right up there next to the Lombardi - just that they are far more destructive than the Lombardi Crime Family, of course," Feig explained, still revealing nothing about the gang as if he was some storyteller trying to build suspense. With Blossom and Bubbles, it was working. "They're the Russian Mob, and they've been smuggling all sorts of military-grade weapons in and out of Townsville. More than half the guns pointed at you belongs to them, or had once belonged to them. Whatever weapons you can think of, they have it. Break them up, and you'll liberate half of Townsville and certainly earn your mayoral surprise!"

"You know about Mister Mayor's big surprise?" Bubbles asked, squealing with excitement. Mayor Wilford's surprise! It was hard for her to believe that it had inched so close - it felt like a lifetime ago that the mayor had tipped them off about it back in early February.

"Why, of course," Feig said, with a smile that, again, Bunny found suspicious. "I am an important man, after all. It would be unbecoming of me to let that slip under my radar…"

The briefing would later move on to some of the more boring but routine exchange of details. Feig would give them the address of the (formerly) secret location of the Russian Mob's leadership meeting, followed by directions, 'just in case' they got lost, as well as how the police would assist them - or wouldn't. Same as it always was under Feig's leadership, the police units attending to this mission would only be there to clean up after the raid was over - one of many other things Bunny found suspicious…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. En route to Sander & Son's Imports.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1114.**

Something had been bothering Bunny ever since her meeting with Police Chief Feig, and it wasn't the late winter wind that was always threatening to throw her off-course. It wasn't even her suspicions of Feig that was ringing alarm bells. In fact, Bunny had no reason to distrust Feig's claim that the Russian Mob was highly dangerous. If it was all a game, Feig would have lied about the Russian Mob's strength to get them to drop their guard.

It took her some time, but she eventually understood why she was on her guard. It wasn't just Feig. She was supposed to be protecting Blossom and Bubbles, and now they were heading towards a potentially life-threatening mission. Feig mentioned that the Russian Mob had every kind of weapon at their disposal. Did that mean that they had Duranium firearms as well?

"Blossom!" Bunny called out to her leader sister, fighting against the wind for dominance over the soundscape. "Blossom, stop!"

"What!?" Blossom yelled over her shoulder, but she wasn't stopping. Working up some courage, Bunny grabbed her by the flightpack and shoulder and pulled her back. Blossom was forced to stop and hover least she risked spinning out of control. Bubbles shot forward, noticing this a little late, and had to wheel around to hover next to them. "What do you want, Bunny!?"

"It's… It's going to be really scary and dangerous!" Bunny tried to explain. Without being given time to think, it was the best she could manage.

"Of course it is!" Blossom said, still looking really mad. In fact, her anger didn't look like it had dissipated even a little bit. "That's how it is every time we fight crime!"

"But you've always come back hurt and- and-" Bunny argued, but she was at a loss for words. Blossom was being aggressive, and it scared her a little. "Your ear was bleeding yesterday, and you were hurt really bad before that! What if you can't win this time?"

"Oh, is that what you think?" Blossom folded her arms while she hovered, offended by what Bunny said. "You think I'm not good enough!?" She hovered closer to Bunny, who had to take her all not to back away.

"Blossom, Bunny cares about you…" Bubbles tried to intervene and had actually come between them, only to be pushed away by Blossom.

"I've been fighting crime for months before you were even born and you've only been doing it for a week!" Blossom yelled and stuck a finger into Bunny's Kevlar shoulder. "I know everything and you know nothing!"

"General Blackwater said you should listen to me…" Bunny said. "And- and-"

"And what?" Blossom interjected.

"It's too dangerous, Blossom. Let me fight alone - you won't have to do anything and I won't tell Feig or General Blackwater," Bunny pleaded with Blossom. Again, it took all her courage to negotiate with her, because she knew that Blossom wasn't in the mood to talk. "Please?"

At this point, Bubbles had given up on trying to be the intercessor. She didn't know who to support this time. Bunny shouldn't be going in alone, but at the same time, Bunny wasn't wrong either. Everything she said was true, and what she said made sense.

"No, no, no!" Blossom yelled at Bunny - she's had it with her. Without saying another word, she resumed her flight towards the Russian Mob's hideout, but Bunny surged forward and seized her by the arm. She flew backward, braking Blossom forcibly in effect.

"Let go of me, stupid!" Blossom screamed at her.

"Blossom, please! It's too dangerous for you!" Bunny insisted.

"I said let go of me!" Blossom repeated herself before tearing herself free from Bunny's grasp.

"I don't need your protection! Argh! I don't need you at all! Why don't you go back home! You're useless! Go on, go cry home to Daddy! You're a waste of time! Sometimes I just wish you're DEAD!" Blossom shrieked madly, a picture of near-insanity.

"Bloss! You don't mean that!" Bubbles cried. What Blossom said to Bunny made Bubbles cringe. She remembered being on the wrong end of Blossom's rage once, and history was repeating itself again.

Bunny was downcast, and Blossom's mean words had cut really deep, deeper than even Mojo Jojo's Agony Bolt. She was just trying to protect Blossom. She liked her, despite the friction in their sisterly relationship. She had been kind before, and Bunny wanted to repay that kindness. But now, Blossom's 'dark side' had shown itself once again.

For a moment, she felt like obeying Blossom's wishes, no matter how irrational it was. But it didn't feel right. She had seen how badly mangled Blossom could be whenever she fought crime, and those were just the small fries! What would happen to Blossom, and Bubbles, should they engage the Russian Mob on their own and without Buttercup, Bunny didn't dare imagine. Buttercup seemed like a prelude of what was to come. Blossom, while in a better mood yesterday, had told her all about the Black Brothers, and they didn't seem all that tough. The Russian Mob was second only to the Lombardi, or so Police Chief Feig claimed - if the Black Brothers could take down the toughest of The Three, what would the Russian Mob do to her sisters during a firefight? Or worst, if they gained the upper hand and even beat them?

"Well!? Are you going home yet!?" Blossom screamed at Bunny some more.

But Bunny had made up her mind.

"No, I'm not going home… You are!" she declared, before heating her eyes up quickly and firing a pair of infrared beams at Blossom.

The effect was instant. Blossom had fainted on the spot as smoke rose from her kevlar vest. Losing control immediately, she started falling head-first. Bubbles stared at Bunny in disbelief, unable to understand what just happened.

"Bubbles, please catch Blossom before she hits the ground," Bunny said to her kinder sister. She knew what she must do now. Where there was misery from Blossom's outburst, Bunny had become serene and calm. "I'm going to fight the bad guys now."

With that, she flew off. Bubbles continued to stare after her, before flying down at maximum speed to try to catch Blossom before she hit the ground, as Bunny advised her to do so.


	114. Chapter 107: Ambition

**Chapter 107: Ambition**

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. En route to Sander & Son's Imports.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1119.**

Following the smoke coming from Blossom, Bubbles flew downward, diving towards the ground to intercept her before she hit the floor. Bubbles had never fallen from this high before, and she wasn't sure if Blossom could take such a height without getting injured.

The only good thing about flying high was that it gave Bubbles plenty of them to reach Blossom before her leader sister reached the floor first. Fifty floors, forty-five, forty. Bubbles had never been this afraid of flying ever since her first time traversing Townsville by flight. Thirty-five, thirty. It was as if the ground was rushing towards her, and not the other way around. It was as if the district full of warehouses was a wall of concrete, coming towards her.

Twenty-five, twenty. Bubbles was getting closer to Blossom. Just a few more yards… Fifteen, ten floors. Bubbles force herself to fly faster, but it was exhausting. eight floors. Six floors. Blossom had fallen into a valley formed between two warehouse-offices. Four floors high, Bubbles swiped for Blossom's arm, only to miss. Her heart skipped a beat when that happened. Three floors above ground, Bubbles made another attempt when she managed to inch a little closer, grabbing Blossom frantically by the Kevlar vest. Spinning herself upright, Bubbles flew in the opposite direction.

She could have sworn she could feel the street below with her toes just before she had beaten her inertia and started ascending. A close call, too close. Pulling Blossom up close, she hugged her from the back before airlifting her up to the roof of a nearby warehouse-office before setting her down.

Despite the massive forces at work, Blossom hadn't come to yet. Bubbles knelt down beside her and tried to shake her awake, but even that did not waken her. Putting two fingers on Blossom's neck, she felt for a pulse - it was hard at first, something which frightened Bubbles as she thought that Blossom was dead, but she found it after the initial scare. It was slow, but it was there.

Bunny's purple infrared beam had burned Blossom in the shoulder - at the very least, Bunny did not aim at any vital areas. Still, the heat was strong enough to melt a part of Blossom's vest. Concerned, Bubbles began stripping off her sister's vest. Underneath, Blossom's red uniform was burned too, so Bubbles had to remove Blossom's shirt.

What Bubbles found underneath that was both a concern and a relief. Blossom's shoulder had been burned red, but it wasn't severe. Still, it was a concern as the impossible happened: Bunny had injured Blossom on purpose, and it was all in the name of protecting her. It was something Bubbles couldn't agree with, no matter how mean Blossom was being towards Bunny. Why did it have to come to this?

While she waited for Blossom to return to consciousness, Bubbles set to work treating her, cutting off a fine layer of dried, partially-blackened dead skin before applying antiseptics and a roll of bandages from her personal medkit. Blossom had slept through all this, which was, again, both a concern and relief to Bubbles.

When she was done, Bubbles sat down on the floor, her knees pushed up to her chest as she hugged her legs. Something terrible had happened. Scratch that - lots of terrible things were happening. Bunny had injured Blossom, and she had flown off to fight the Russian Mob on her own. Now, Blossom wasn't waking up… Tears spilled out when the reality of the situation struck Bubbles hard, the trauma of both Blossom and her close call with the ground returning for the debt it was owed. Bubbles cried, alone and unsure of what to do.

Time passed, and the only way Bubbles could measure it was by her teardrops.

"This is Flight Control Five. What's the situation, over?" Bubbles' radio came to life, exactly when she wanted to be alone. Bubbles wanted to report what had happened at first but thought hard about it. She didn't want to get Bunny in trouble, no matter how wrong she was in doing harm to Blossom. She'd heard what Bunny said. She didn't hurt Blossom out of malice but did it out of misguided protectiveness.

Bubbles took a deep breath and tried her best to stop crying. Flight Control Five was impatient, however, and he continued to hound her while she tried to regain her composure.

"N-nothing, Mister Flight Control Five, we were just talking about how we could beat the bad guys," Bubbles lied.

"Why are you and Bravo-Four-Seven stationary while Bravo-Five-Zero is at the mission site? Over," the man behind the flight control questioned. How did the flight control people know about their locations and activity? The mystery of it resurfaced in Bubbles' mind. Had they been watching them? Bubbles did not recall ever seeing anyone on rooftops tracking them with binoculars or similar devices.

"We're… waiting for the signal from Bunny…" Bubbles lied. She had learned the art of deception during her darkest days. While it wasn't something she was proud of, putting it to good use was one way of making up for her past mistakes.

"Very well, Bravo-Four-Nine. Flight Control Five signing off," the voice in the radio said.

"Bunny… Stop…" Blossom mumbled in her unconsciousness, loud enough that Bubbles heard it. Turning around, she scrambled to Blossom's side. However, as she was afraid that Blossom might still be in a bad mood, she kept a distance and waited.

"Blossom…?" Bubbles murmured to her. Blossom's eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was the steely gray sky above, and a blob resembling… someone. Was it Bunny? Bunny! Blossom pushed the Girl she thought was Bunny away from her, before scrambling to her feet and backing away, a hand cupping her burn wound. She screamed in pain as the burning sensation returned. "Blossom, it's me!"

"Stay back! Stay away from me!" Blossom yelled defensively, her back meeting the roof railing. Her vision took time to clear.

"I'm Bubbles, don't you recognize me?" Bubbles tried to reassure her. It was only when Blossom's vision was sharper that she calmed down a little. The leader of the quartet clutched her head. It, too, was burning, and she could feel a headache coming on.

"What… happened?" Blossom asked, leaning against the railing behind her. Her short-term memory loss terrified Bubbles, who thought that Bunny had broke Blossom beyond fixing - or something.

"It's Bunny - she's gone off to fight the bad guys on her own…" Bubbles said, anemic. For all her powers, she felt helpless. There were so many problems - too many for her to handle.

"The- the Russian Mob?" Blossom said, rubbing her head. Slowly but surely, it was all coming back to her now. She was really mad, so mad that she couldn't immediately remember all the terrible things she had said to Bunny - or maybe it was just that she was coming out of her heat-induced fainting spell. But she remembered she was arguing with Bunny. There was a flash of purple after that, and the next thing she knew, she woke up where she was - where was she exactly? It didn't matter - it was all back now. "Bunny! How long was she gone?"

"I don't know… A long time ago?" Bubbles said, now feeling useless. She hadn't checked the time despite wearing the watch Agent Blake gave her.

"We have to go now! Bunny- the bad guys-!" Blossom slurred a little as she gave herself a running start to flight. Picking up Blossom's stuff, Bubbles hurried along beside her and pulled her to a stop.

"Are you sure you should be flying, Bloss? You don't look so good…" Bubbles said while handing Blossom her military top, jacket, and vest, which Blossom threw on haphazardly. "Remember what Dad told us? We shouldn't be flying if we're too tired, too hurt, or too sleepy…"

"Thanks, Bubbles," Blossom said as she was wiping sweat from her forehead as she adjusted the multiple layers of fabric she had just donned, leaving some opening for her still-sensitive burn wound. Bunny had done a number on her, and it was only a single burst of heat beam, likely one that wasn't very strong judging from how Bunny took practically no time to charge up. "Maybe you could hold my hand while we fly? I really don't want you to have to carry me. I can do it on my own… I just… need a minute."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Sander & Son's Imports.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1143.**

Even before Blossom and Bubbles had landed next to the Sander & Son's Imports warehouse, they both already knew it was too late. Too much time had passed, and though it had only been half an hour - a mere moment to an adult - it felt like forever to the kids. Smoke was rising from shattered windows. There were dead bodies at the entrance. The entrance was a cargo bay door, and it had been torn open, the gigantic shutters left on the ground.

Touching down, the Girls inspected the bodies - there were six of them in all, and they had all sustained gunshot wounds, some to the head, others to the chest…

* * *

**20 minutes ago…**

Bunny looked over her shoulder again for the umpteenth time as she flew headlong towards Sander & Son's Imports at maximum speed. She knew she was slower than them because of her limited flight hours, and she had that paranoid feeling that Blossom and Bubbles were going to catch up to her in an attempt to stop her, but she was proven wrong every time she looked behind her.

She couldn't believe what she had just done. It felt like a crime, knocking Blossom unconscious with her heat beam - a technique Blossom herself had taught her after her birthday party. It felt like a betrayal, but it had to be done. If her previous tirade was anything to go by, Blossom wasn't being very rational despite her intelligence, and that could easily have gotten her killed. History had proven that Blossom (and Bubbles, and Buttercup) were not natural fighters, and what was more, her own recent failures had proven that the stakes were higher, and missions more difficult. The bad guys were fighting with teeth and claws to survive, and the Powerpuff Girls didn't have the teeth and claws to match.

In the distance, Bunny could already see Russian Mobsters guarding an entrance. She had zoomed her vision in, so she was still too far away for them to see her.

There was simply no time to plan the operation thoroughly. For all she knew, Blossom and Bubbles could be zipping towards her at any moment now. A frontal assault was in order.

Bunny turned invisible the moment she felt like she might be seen. Raising her MP5 in flight, she took aim and fired. The guards were far out of effective range, but with her visual acuity, hand-eye coordination, and flight altitude, it mattered little. She began firing while she was 1,500 feet away from the guards. Like a fighter jet, her ammunition was felt first before she was seen. At such a distance, she couldn't always make the shot and so she shot the men several times over.

By the time she had reached the effective firing range of her weapon, there was no longer the need to fire it.

Flying up to the building, she landed close to the cargo bay area. The men were guarding a cargo bay door in particular, not that it mattered. Gripping the shutters by a corner, she tore the whole thing off with a grunt. Sparks flew as the metal and mechanisms operating the shutter tore and broke under her post-Herculean strength. Her cloaking field dissipated by her will - now was not the time for stealth. More Russians were shouting in surprise from the inside. When the cargo bay door came loose, she threw it a fair distance away and rushed inside…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Sander & Son's Imports.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1145.**

Walking into the warehouse with their guns drawn, Blossom and Bubbles came across more bodies, but these were different. A few of the Russian mobsters were shot dead, but beyond them, the affair became far more grisly. A few were split in half, their entrails lying in bloody heaps on the floor, or strewn about like ropes for lifting cargo. Still more were either beheaded or cut up with massive rifts in their bodies.

Looking behind them, all they saw were bullet holes, craters in the walls and floor, dying fire and shattered furniture. The mobsters had fought back, and on picking out the battlefield for weapons, saw that Bunny had been right about how dangerous it was. Using their Duranium vision, they could see Duranium firearms among the corpses, alongside some serious-looking firepower, even if they were conventional. AK-47s and RPGs, various machineguns, and even an anti-tank cannon emplacement. Awed though she might have been by the array of weapons, Blossom wasn't convinced that she couldn't handle it. Bunny was wrong at every front, that was Blossom's verdict, completely wrong. She was older, and the leader; she knew best.

Hovering up, the Girls searched the surrounding for more clues, and Bunny. However, she was nowhere to be found. Had she overcome them without losing her life? Across the aisles of warehouse shelves, the door leading into the office was open. The door had been torn off its hinges, a clear indication of who might have passed through the frames…

* * *

**20 minutes ago…**

Coming in from a corner of the cargo bay door, Bunny fired the remainder of her MP5 magazine into the first few men who had come to investigate. Three men were gunned down this way, and their return fire, sparse and rushed, had come to nothing.

There were more behind them. Bunny squeezed the trigger of her MP5 at one of them, only for there to be a dry click. Letting go of her MP5, she drew Ace's katana, gripping it two-handed.

She'd seen the shine of Duranium behind the men she killed initially. Dashing into the shelves to avoid the Duranium firearms, she let her invisibility field wash over her again as she scaled the shelves. Bullets, both conventional and Duranium, flew past her…

Except for one, which drove itself through the side of her Kevlar armor, drilling right through and grazing the soft skin there. Bunny winced as she reached the pinnacle of the shelves. Jumping down, she brought the sword down on the left-most mobster, splitting him from shoulder to stomach. For some reason, her cloaking field had come down - perhaps from the impact.

Rushing to take advantage of her second surprise attack, she sliced the next man closest to her just as he was turning his gun on her - the sword went right through his waist, splitting him in half, like a block of butter, in a shower of blood and entrails.

They were onto her now. She felt the tapping of machinegun shells on her armor as she sprinted to the next man, swiping her sword upwards to sever both his arms as he tried to shoot her with his Duranium rifle, before bringing it about and slicing open his stomach, spilling both blood and stomach fluid in equal measure.

There was, still yet, a third row of men, and she felt one of their Duranium bullets in her leg as she launched herself through the air, rolled on the ground before thrusting her sword upwards, stabbing another man in the heart - there was almost no resistance as if the man's flesh was air.

With the second row of Russian mobsters down, bunny ran towards the third. One of the bad guys had an RPG launcher. In his panic, he'd taken a quick aim at her and fired, but Bunny had ducked on her way towards another mobster with a heavy machinegun, the RPG flying over her head harmlessly before detonating at the back of the warehouse. The whole building shook as the glass was shattered and a fire started. There were more explosions as stored ammunition was ignited. It had started raining bullets and guns as cargo fell from the shelves.

Bunny brought Ace's sword across the machinegunner, who shielded his head with his massive gun - only for the gun's barrel to be sliced off… along with his head. Another rushed up to her with a Duranium machete, bringing it down on her, but Bunny was able to fluidly block the attack. With minimal strength, she pushed the man back with her sword one-handed. Stubbornly, the man came forward with another swing coming from another angle, which Bunny was able to block again - except she had a surprise this time in the form of her fist punching through his liver. Gripping the organ, she pulled it out before bringing her sword down on the stunned mobster. The blade had gone right through him vertically, from the skull to the middle of his chest.

That was when another Duranium bullet slammed into her - right arm. She dropped Ace's sword unwillingly. Thankfully, the Duranium gunner's rifle was bolt-action, giving Bunny time to charge up her ocular laser beams and slice through his neck, beheading him.

But it wasn't over. There was one more man, and he was sitting behind what was essentially a small artillery piece. He turned the massive thing towards her, but Bunny grabbed her sword and flew away before he fired it. The shot ended up making a huge crater in the ground. The warehouse shook once more. From the air, Bunny fired her twin laser beams, only to shave off the blast shield mounted on the anti-tank emplacement. The artillery piece fired once more, but once more, Bunny had flown out of the way. This time, it had made a hole in the wall.

The artillery's weakness was apparent. It was like shooting a fly with a cannon. Flying behind its firing arc, Bunny swooped down on the man behind the artillery piece, tackling him against the weapon, crushing him between herself and the artillery. When she backed off, the man fell on the ground in an awkward pose, like a broken twig, his torso bent at an unnatural shape. He screamed as he clawed at the ground, trying to get up, but his back was shattered and so it was an impossibility.

Touching down, Bunny walked up to the man and promptly stomped on his head, which burst like a watermelon. Blood and gray matter spilled in all directions, along with shattered pieces of bones and various other crushed organs.

Silence fell, but Bunny knew there was more. There was always more.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Sander & Son's Imports.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1146.**

Blossom and Bubbles approached the door. It was dim inside, and the lights were flickering, besides. As they passed through the door, Bubbles hid behind Blossom, mewling and murmuring for Blossom to be careful, terrified of what they might find - terrified of both either finding Bunny or their enemies. More light was coming from the dying fire within than from the ceiling lights above. The warm firelight had given its color and glow to the many corpses all around the office, mostly in the middle where the furniture had been cleared and the circumference lined with chairs.

They could hear the sound of blade hacking flesh. The moment they turned a corner, they saw Bunny at the end of the office, but her back was turned. Bunny raised a weapon over her head - a fire ax - before bringing it down on a body again, burying the ax head deep into its torso. They inched closer towards her, despite being on the opposite end of the office, and as they sneaked closer to Bunny, Blossom kicked something cylindrical at her feet. The cylinder rolled towards a desk, banging the wooden support of the cheap furniture.

Looking down at whatever she had kicked, she saw that it was an expended flashbang. Looking up again, she saw that Bunny was turning around. She was soaked in blood - her face, her armor, her uniform - everything was painted red. Dropping the fire ax, Bunny picked up her sword again, her eyes glowing red.

Blossom and Bubbles were shocked.

"Who's there!?" Bunny yelled, shaking with rage, sword held at the ready. Upon spotting two vague shapes coming towards her, she sprinted forward, stopping only when she could get a better glimpse at whoever it was who sneaked up to her from behind.

It was Blossom and Bubbles. Panting aggressively, Bunny lowered her sword, the glowing red in her eyes fading away into purple.

* * *

**20 minutes ago…**

When she got to the office door, Bunny twisted the doorknob so hard that the lock broke. Pulling the whole thing off, she punched another hole in the door, on the opposite end of where the knob used to be. Finding purchase in the holes, Bunny pulled the door off its hinges and threw it away. Unclipping a couple of flashbangs simultaneously with one in each hand, Bunny primed the grenades and threw them into the office, one further away than the other. Bullets were fired in her direction, some Duranium, some conventional, but none had struck her.

Men screamed and yelled warnings to each other when the flashbangs detonated. Reloading her MP5 so quickly it took only a second, Bunny stormed the room, firing bursts such that there was no room for error. She knew that this was it - this was where the bosses and their Brigadiers were holed up in. Four guards were killed that way before they could even recover from the blinding light and deafening bang, and this was followed by some among the leadership.

By the time the Russian mobsters in the room had recovered their sight, Bunny was done firing bullets and had switched to firing her ocular beams, first ion beams to disable as many radios as she could, then laser beams - cutting men up in the process, opening chest cavities, halving men and beheading some. Only then did the remainder of the Russian mafia leadership returned fire.

Dodging bullets and running into cover in a cubicle, however, did not prevent Duranium bullets from piercing through her cover, so she stayed on the move. Sensing a gnawing sense of exhausting, she'd decided to switch up her tactics. Once again, she pulled her sword out, but something felt different…

Before she could understand the sensation Ace's sword was giving her, however, something exploded just behind her cover, blowing it up and sending her into the wall, cracking the concrete. A grenade launcher. Bunny had seen the grenadier while she was sliding down the wall, and he was reloading his grenade launcher while she struggled to get on her feet.

Scrambling on her knees, she noticed that she had lost her grip on her sword but it wasn't far away. Grabbing it, and once more feeling some kind of strange sensation building inside her, she sprinted around the office, under the protection of cover, hoping to reach the grenadier before he fired off another grenade.

Yes, yes! Bunny understood now. She felt much more driven, better motivated to kill. Focusing on the office cubicles, she was able to see through them. The grenadier had just closed her grenade launcher and readied it. He was about to fire! Jumping towards the wall, Bunny began running on it with the help of her flying ability, narrowly avoiding the epicenter of the blast that ensued. Men flanking the grenadier and behind him were firing at her, but her angle of approach, speed, small stature, and their panic made her an impossible target.

Letting herself fall, Bunny hacked a man vertically in half, exposing organs from the brain to intestines, before laughing maniacally from the power the sword had given her and putting a horizontal slice into the grenadier, who narrowly dodged her attack.

The other of the grenadier's defender leveled his rifle at Bunny, but the enhanced Girl was quicker than his trigger finger, rending both his arms and rifle in half before he could fire. A diagonal slice had nearly split the man in half, but it didn't matter as blood and organs spilled out in great amounts.

"Umri, suka!" The grenadier had pulled a machete out in the meantime and brought it down on her - somehow managing to connect with Bunny, nearly missing her face when she flinched away from the blow, making a downward, shallow cut on her cheek instead, before embedding it in the shoulder of her (un)powered armor. He simply didn't have the strength to split men in two like Bunny did, despite the machete he was wielding, which shone in multiple colors, as Duranium tended to do.

The machete was stuck, and the grenadier couldn't pull it out. Bunny swung Ace's katana upwards in an attempt to chop off the man's head, but he had leaned back to avoid the fatal blow. Bunny still had one more trick up her sleeve though - pulling her knife out, she stabbed the man in the heart.

There was no escaping it this time. The grenadier fell over, dead. Whoever was left alive had begun running. Bunny pursued them out of bloodlust. The sword! It was driving her forward!

There were only two men left with their backs turned to her. Soon, there were none. Returning to the grenadier that had made her life so difficult, she pulled a fire ax from the wall and started hacking him up; taking perverse pleasure from it that she had never felt before…

"Yes… Yes… Succumb to what you've always enjoyed DOING!" the sword seemed to tell her in her own mind. How it did, it didn't matter, for she was taking pleasure in the fruits of her labor, all alone now…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Warehouse District. Sander & Son's Imports.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1147.**

"Bunny! What happened to you!?" Bubbles exclaimed in shock.

"Have you been taking drugs?" Blossom questioned Bunny, but all she did was smile.

"It's okay, you're safe now," Bunny said with her silly smile, which graduated to an unhinged giggle. She opened her arms up as she approached Blossom, expecting a comforting hug. "You're safe. I protected you."

Blossom wasn't pleased. Not at all. Bunny had attacked her, dead bodies were everywhere in the warehouse - she counted over twenty - and now, there was a distinct possibility that Bunny might have gone down the same road as Bubbles. Her eyes had turned red and she was mutilating a dead body, both of which were sure signs of some kind of corruption.

Walking up to Bunny, Blossom punched her across the face, flooring her. It also had the intended effect of 'waking' Bunny up. But Blossom wasn't done yet, and as Bunny stood up, she began slapping her several times-

"Blossom! Stop!" Bubbles screamed, shocked once more now that Blossom, too, was backsliding as well. "Stop hitting her!"

But Blossom did not hear her. She went on to knee Bunny in the stomach, before giving her another hook across the cheek. Bunny fell to the floor a second time, too exhausted to resist Blossom's attacks.

And when Bunny was down, Blossom kicked her in the teeth. Bubbles pulled her back after that.

"Blossom, stop! You're hurting her!" Bubbles cried. Blossom shook her off violently.

"Like how she burned me just now!?" Blossom screamed at Bubbles, who recoiled at her wildness and borderline madness. "Look around you, Bubbles! Look at how many poor people she killed! Look at how messed up they were!"

"But…" Bubbles mewled, before falling silent. Blossom took some steps towards her aggressively, raising her hands at her, but stopped short of actually doing anything. Bubbles shrank in her presence, afraid of her own sister.

In the meantime, Bunny was rolling on the ground, clutching her mouth; it was still on fire from the kick Blossom gave her. She could taste blood, more so than before.

"Maybe that should straighten your teeth out!" Blossom taunted Bunny as she rolled on the ground. She thought it was funny, so she smiled. Crouching next to Bunny, she grabbed and pulled her ponytail up viciously so that she could face her. "Don't you dare attack me again. But you know what? I'm telling Daddy about you!" With that, Blossom slammed Bunny's face to the ground, got up, and walked away. She couldn't resist a smile. Maybe this way, Dad would pay more attention to her.

Bunny got to her knees, still in so much pain from both the battle and Blossom's abuse that she couldn't do any better. With her hands still clutching her suffering mouth, she murmured in muffled pleadings and protests, and when Blossom ignored her, Bunny crawled in pursuit.

"Blossom, don't!" Bunny finally cried. "No!"

Bubbles held her back while Blossom continued walking away.

"NO!" Bunny continued screaming.

"Bunny, stop," Bubbles said. "You can't stop her. You shouldn't."

"But… I protected her!" Bunny cried.

"No, Bunny!" Bubbles shouted angrily, pushing Bunny back. Bunny stood up, shocked that even Bubbles seemed to have turned against her. "Why? Why did you have to hurt Blossom and- and kill all these people?"

"I was protecting her - I was protecting you!" Bunny repeated herself. She couldn't believe that neither Blossom nor Bubbles seemed to understand her. "These men were really dangerous!"

"You didn't have to kill them, Bunny. We didn't want to kill. Blossom was wrong to hit you - but you were wrong to shoot her with your eye beam… and you shouldn't have killed everyone," Bubbles explained, and before Bunny could object any further, Bubbles, after some pause, took Bunny by the hand, deciding that there was no reason to be afraid of her, nor ostracize her. Truth be told, she seemed to retain more control than she did back when she was addicted to His Secret 2.0. Bunny had only done what she did out of naivete and misguided decisions, right?

"But- But-" Bunny continued to stammer in disbelief, at a loss for words at having been singled out and branded the wrongdoer.

"Come on, Bunny," Bubbles urged her youngest sister to follow. "We need to go now. There's nothing we can do here…"

Bunny reluctantly followed, but then she stopped. She started coughing, and it was serious enough that she bent double, then fell to her knees. Coughing several more times, she nearly threw up. Instead, blood dripped from her mouth to the floor, forming a small pool. At the same time, blood was dripping from her nostrils, and some had even welled up in her eyes.

But it was far more than that. Worse still, she was beginning to feel some pain in her joints, pain that wasn't there before. The pain seemed to be traveling in her blood. Lethargy overtook her at the same time.

"Bunny! Are you okay!?" Bubbles doubled back to Bunny, sinking to the floor next to her as she held her up. "It wasn't because of Blossom, was it?"

Bunny shook her head as she covered her mouth. She was still coughing up blood, until finally, after some time, it cleared up. Bunny didn't need her to say anything, however, and she didn't want her to. Dad would be devastated - already, she could imagine the look on his face just from what Blossom would tell him and the injuries she had sustained, the risk she took, and how narrowly she had evaded death. Adding her strange sickness on top of all that would be too much, excessive. She didn't want him to die of grief, as what he said he was afraid of.

"It's these men, isn't it?" Bubbles said, anger rising in her voice. "Maybe you're right after all! Still, I don't know if you should have killed them."

Pulling Bunny up, she led her out of the warehouse…


	115. Chapter 108: The Fallout

**Chapter 108: The Fallout**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1335.**

Bunny had once again found herself at the balcony, staring into the distance. So much had happened, and too much had changed. The line was drawn between her and Blossom, and even Bubbles seemed to be keeping a distance. When Bunny came back home with Bubbles, it was clear from her Dad's behavior that Blossom had made good on her promise to tell him everything. They didn't talk much even as he was patching her up. Lunch was a quiet, subdued affair. Then there was her sword, which seemed to have taken on a personality of its own, changing her, and finally, the fact that she hadn't been well lately. She had only just recovered from the pain in her joints and neck and the odd exhaustion she was feeling.

It was all getting too much. Bunny's thoughts turned to the most extreme solutions for recourse. She thought about running away or even killing herself. Her life had been nothing but a lack of freedom and an abundance of violence, all in the name of protecting a family that no longer cared for her.

While she was deep in thought, the glass door behind her slid open. The huge form of Dad came up next to her. Professor Utonium rested his white-sleeved arms on the balcony railing, noticeably looking distant as if he had ceased to be her father.

"Do you hate me, Dad?" Bunny finally managed to summon the courage to ask.

Professor Utonium sighed. Bunny found it worrying.

"No..." he had said this in a way similar to a long-drawn yawn as if he was exhausted even though it was just past noon.

"I can never hate you, Bunny," he went on, but still kept his distance. "I don't think I should hate you either. You're not a monster, and I know it's much more complicated than what Blossom believes…"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1216.**

The doorbell rang while Professor Utonium was watching the television, hoping to learn more about his adopted daughters in advance that way. He padded over to his front door to open it, only to find a rather troubling sight: Blossom, alone. Her uniform was hanging loose and slightly unbuttoned, her vest loosened and her jacket unzipped, opened to give her bandage and the wound underneath some space. Beyond this, however, she was clean. What worried him was the absence of Bubbles and Bunny.

"Blossom, where are your sisters?" the professor asked, uneasy about the turn of events.

"Dad, I have to talk to you. It's about Bunny…" Blossom said, and though the gravity of the matter wasn't light, she enjoyed finally speaking to her Dad, one-to-one with no distractions and certainly no Bunny.

"Is she-" the professor couldn't finish his sentence. He couldn't stomach the idea of it, partly because he had a hand in Bunny's destiny as a law enforcement bioweapon, but also partly because Bunny was so young, with so much more to live for. He had created her, and quite simply, he loved her. "Is she… dead?"

"Dad? No! It's not that," Blossom said, putting the professor at ease.

"Then what is it about?" the professor asked. Together, the creator and enhanced child returned to the living room, sitting around the fireplace.

"Bunny's been killing people outside," Blossom divulged the secret. She bit her lips, unsure of how to go on from here. "She killed a lot of bad guys today, and she… messed them up really badly. Like, there were many of them with their heads gone and cut in half and… It was really bad, Dad."

"I see," the professor muttered. He leaned back on his couch. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before opening them again. "In a way, I knew she's been doing that. It's why General Blackwater wanted her to keep things secret. I just wish that was all…"

"There's more, Dad… Bunny, she-" Blossom said before stopping. She wiped some tears away before continuing with her narrative. "Bunny burned me with her eye beams and I fainted and- and- if Bubbles hadn't been there, I don't know what would have happened to me…"

It wasn't something Professor Utonium expected. He didn't think that Bunny was even capable of attacking her own sisters. She simply had too much respect for them. She looked up to them as well as cared deeply about them - from what he knew, it was for them that she continued to fight crime without ever saying a word.

"She… It can't be. Are you sure it wasn't an accident?" the professor questioned Blossom, who shifted under his inquiry. Although he wasn't interrogating her, she knew that the picture wasn't as black-and-white, and it implicated her as well. "Maybe she was firing at someone else and hit you by accident?"

"No, Dad! She shot me and she wasn't trying to hit anyone else!" Blossom shouted as she rose from the couch, feeling anger and annoyance surging in her. It'd come up even without her knowing, and she didn't even understand why at first. It was the first time she had ever felt this way towards Dad, and it frightened even herself. Her eyes fell to the floor, suddenly ashamed of herself as she sank back down to her seat.

"Assuming you're right…" the professor went on. Blossom's outburst did not go unnoticed, but he'd decided to let it go as he understood what Blossom was going through. "Did she have a reason for doing that? Did she tell you anything?"

Blossom couldn't make up her mind on what to say next. She wasn't sure if she should even tell the truth or lie, as so many things could paint her as the villain.

"She… she said she's better than me and that she should fight and not me and Bubbles!" Blossom's dark side eventually won out, though she became uneasy because of her choice. Yes, she wanted Bunny to suffer and lose Daddy's attention, just so she could get it all back. But to tell a lie… It was against her conscience, and something Dad wouldn't like. It had added another misdeed on top of the others, secrets that were like wild animals, clawing to get out.

Bubbles and Bunny would return a short time later.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1337.**

"-and Blossom thinks that you're full of yourself, that you believe you should fight crime alone and not your sisters. Is that true?" the professor finished off the story and waited.

"I just want to protect Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup!" Bunny retorted, shocked that Blossom would talk behind her back like that. Realizing that she had raised her voice at Dad, she apologized: "I'm sorry… Things have been bad between Blossom and me…" She had started tearing up again.

"Tell me what happened, Bunny. I want your side of the story," the professor asked. He rubbed her shoulder amicably. Bunny stopped crying, believing now that things weren't all doom and gloom as she believed.

She told Dad everything, how she tried to convince Blossom to stay out of the fight only to be screamed at, how she then stunned her, and went on to fight alone. She talked about her battle - now finally allowed to do so since the mission was a public one - and how she had been proven right by the unusual number of Duranium firearms and explosives the Russian Mob possessed. She talked about how Blossom beat her up later and left Bubbles and her behind in anger.

The professor was disturbed. The sibling rivalry between Blossom and Bunny was fast going out of hand. But he knew immediately who was wrong in this case.

"You have nothing to apologize for," the professor said. He couldn't resist the frown that was cresting on his face. "Just… Look at the trees, Bunny, and forget about all this. I'm going to have a chat with Blossom."

The professor knew where Blossom was. He'd seen her on the way up, watching some cartoon on the television about a fictional talking dog and a crew of ghost hunters. He started on his way down, and the more he thought about Blossom, the more infuriated he had become, and the more infuriated he was, he started going faster, until he was almost breaking into a jog.

He was almost flying down the stairs when he shouted: "Blossom!"

Blossom jumped up from the couch, shocked by the sudden confrontation.

"Dad? What-"

"Zoiks! Run, Scooby-Doo! Run!" the television blared as it talked to itself. "Rhelp!"

"Blossom! I've taught you better than this!" the professor shouted at her, gesticulating madly at her as he marched up to her. When he got up to her, he grabbed the TV remote roughly from her and switched the TV off. "We talked about it! I thought we had an understanding!"

"Understanding about what, Dad? Why are you yelling at me?" Blossom asked, confused, and upset that things had deteriorated once again.

"When you told me your story, you conveniently left out the part where you beat up your own sister! And that wasn't the only thing you left out, was it?" the professor snarled, pointing fingers at her. "I really want to believe you, Blossom! You lied - even when I told you not to!"

"But- but- I- didn't-" Blossom stuttered as she struggled to think of a way out for this one, but for some reason, the only thing she could think about, oddly, was how similar to Buttercup she had become.

"And let me tell you one other thing you did! You left your family behind - again! And two of them, this time!" the professor roared. "You were supposed to be smarter than that, Blossom! What the hell is going on with you!?"

"But- It didn't happen that way!" Blossom blubbered.

"Are you saying Bubbles' been lying to me?" the professor interjected. Unknown to both Blossom and Bunny, he had taken the time to speak to Bubbles about this shortly after she had returned. She had been the key to telling what was the lie and what was the truth.

"No…" Blossom said. She couldn't help it anymore. Having been found out and humiliated, she couldn't hold back her tears and whimpers. All she ever wanted was her Dad's love, but all she had found was his ire.

"I'm grounding you, starting from today," the professor said. "No TV, no going out of your room, and no desserts! And don't you dare cry or whine about this treatment because you deserve it!"

"Why, Blossom? I didn't want to believe General Blackwater when he said it. He said that you're not suitable to lead Bubbles, Buttercup and Bunny. That would have been fine, but the way you're going right now, you're not even suitable to be their sister!" the professor continued scolding Blossom, who took it even though she was downcast and depressed over the turn of events. "But I'm starting to think that he's right. You've really disappointed me, Blossom. I thought you know better than that!"

"What else have you been hiding from me? Spit it out!" the professor went on to demand.

Blossom, who had shut her eyes for fear of looking at Dad, and to stop the endless supply of tears, shook her head, even though in her mind, she knew that she had many other secrets she had declined to let out.

"Fine. But can I really even trust you from now on?" the professor lamented. "Now go up to your room and think about what you've done wrong. Get going!"

Reluctantly, Blossom obeyed him and floated lazily towards the second floor.

"And no powers in The House!" the professor warned her. Depressed, Blossom touched down at the foot of the stairs and started climbing it one step at a time to the second floor…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 2214.**

Later that night, after Doctor Alice's routine visit, the Girls were tucked in for the night after a quick bedtime story. But when the adults were gone, something sinister took over.

"Bunny, get off the bed," Blossom said to her neme-sister quite unexpectedly, when the younger Girl thought that they had all forgiven each other.

"But why?" Bunny asked, even though she knew the answer. It was all happening in the near-darkness, with only a ray of light coming in from the half-opened door.

"I'm not sleeping with you next to me," Blossom replied. "Get out!"

"But… This is my bed too…" Bunny said, sitting up. "Bubbles, tell her!"

There was nothing but silence from Bubbles. She had plenty of time to think about what Bunny had done. The way she had murdered all those Russian mobsters was horrific, how she tore them up like slabs of meat, like some animal or mythical werebeast… Like Mac and her origamis, and like Lumpkins, back in the forests of Pokey Oaks. Her eyes had shone red, which was never, ever a good sign.

"Buttercup! Tell her, Buttercup, please!" Bunny pleaded with the other Powerpuff Girl, but she remained as silent as she had been for most of the day, forever brooding about something she alone knew.

"Blossom, please…" Bunny then returned to begging Blossom. "I'm sorry I burned you with my beam - I just didn't want you to be hurt by the bad guys again!"

Next thing she knew, she felt a shove coming from Blossom, and when that wasn't enough to dislodge her from the bed, she felt a bare foot to her face, which sent her crashing down to the carpeted floor. Although it could never injure her, the sensation from the fall, not to mention that humiliating kick in the face, was still unpleasant.

"Our bed was colored pink, blue and green. I don't see any purple in it, so it's not yours! It's never yours!" Blossom shrieked in a hushed tone, projected to the room but not loud enough for Dad and Mom to hear. "Get out of the room! It's all your fault Daddy hates me now!"

Wiping tears away, Bunny got up and left the room. Where would she sleep now? Walking down the second-floor corridor in her pajamas, Bunny came upon Dad and Mom's room. She considered skipping it, as talking to Dad would only bring more trouble to Blossom, but what then? Where would she go? There was no other way.

Bunny began knocking on the door. There was no response at first. She thought she could hear Dad and Mom whispering to each other, doing something at first. But then there was the sound of clothes getting put on and footsteps.

"Dad! Please!" Bunny cried as she knocked on the door, desperate for attention after her rejection from even the sweet Bubbles. For a split second, she thought that her rejection would continue through her parents. For a split second, she thought that Blossom's hatred had spread to Dad.

Then the door opened.

"Bunny? What are you doing out here?" Dad asked and Bunny immediately jumped on top of him, hugging him tightly. The professor laughed, thinking at first that Bunny had been silly. "Hey silly Girl, what's wrong?"

"Blossom, she- she kicked me out!" Bunny cried, rubbing her face in the professor's bare shoulder. "She said it's my fault you hate me and- and she kicked me out!"

"What do you mean? From your own room?" Selicia said, looming behind the professor with nothing but the pants of her pajamas and her bra on. On hearing this, she frowned and pushed past her lover. "I'll teach that know-it-all a lesson!"

"Selicia, honey, wait!" the professor grabbed her by the arm.

"What, Thomas!?" Selicia said. Professor Utonium was taken aback by his soon-to-be-wife's attitude. He had never seen her like this before. Since when did she start calling Blossom a know-it-all? But he kept his insights to himself. He thought it was largely nothing, just Selicia becoming cranky from being interrupted from their nightly activities.

"Not now, not like this," the professor said. "Let the Girls sleep. We'll talk to them tomorrow."

"As for you, Bunny," the professor turned to the youngest of the quartet. "How about if you sleep in our room for tonight?"

"Really?" Bunny said. She didn't expect this. Never had General Blackwater or even Nana allowed this. Dad and Mom had never extended this offer either, and Bunny had sort of understood this as the concept of 'privacy'.

"Can't she get her own room?" Selicia pleaded with the professor.

"Maybe tomorrow, dear. Bunny's upset. She needs us," he said. Selicia laughed. Was that bitterness in her voice?

"Of course. How can I be so selfish?" she said. The professor was reassured. How could Selicia ever be bitter about taking care of the Girls? His own mother, estranged from her though he was, had often talked about a certain common kinship among girls and women, often called upon in times like this.

Selicia leaned over to Bunny and pecked her on the forehead. "Let's bring her in, then."

It was on this night that Bunny had caught a glimpse of the professor and the sergeant's master bedroom. For some reason, clothes were lying on the ground. The professor's lab coat and office wear, Selicia's military dress uniform and various underwear, which the adults cleared up quickly after letting Bunny in. Still, the damage was done and the professor could only hope that the implications of the mess would sail over her head…

Which it did. Instead, Bunny focused her attention on a white, flowing headdress on the desk and a white gown inside an open cabinet. Selicia had briefly shown them to the professor before they got passionate, and it had served as a distraction from it for Bunny.

The enhanced child stood before the white gown, awed by its quality and beauty. She had never seen anything quite like it, and the only thing that could equal its workmanship was arguably her (un)powered armor. Selicia came up behind Bunny, putting her hands on her shoulders.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she said. "Your Dad and I are going to get married in just a couple of weeks."

Bunny smiled. It was something positive, at least, something to be happy for. Before Bunny had even started training to replace her sisters as a law enforcer, she knew from the wedding photo shoot that Dad and Mom were getting married. She had a brief conversation about the subject and knew that it amounted to a 'happily ever after' for them and of course, her and her sisters. What she didn't know was that it was… unconventional… for a pair of parents to marry only after having four children. Not that Bunny knew about the exact nature of the four children, including herself, nor how they were 'conceived'.

"Someday, you're going to wear one of your own and get married to a man who loves you like how your Dad loves me," Selicia went on. "I'm sure a Girl like you will find true love."

"Really?" Bunny said.

"I can't wait for my own wedding!" she added, and before long, she was fast asleep, snuggled between the two protective pillars that were Dad and Mom, so that she could 'move time' and get closer to a brighter future.


	116. Chapter 109: The Prelude

**Chapter 109: The Prelude**

'Hey, voice recorder… I've been feeling really down. I don't know how long I've slept, but I had another dream. A red-eyed monster chasing me through The House, just like the last time. But something else happened. He stepped into the light and became a man, a red-skinned man. It was like a fairy tale, except I don't know if I was meeting a hero or a villain.

We talked a little. I was afraid at first, but he seemed okay, so I told him about my problems, about how I was sick and how all my sisters hate me now. I cried. I couldn't help it… It's stupid of me. But the Red Man was really sweet. He told me that it's 'natural' that a person like me will be loved more than 'my peers' and how some people will get jealous, 'especially of a talented and kind person like me'. That's what he said. He was warm and nice when he hugged me… How was I afraid of him before?

I kind of missed him when I woke up. But maybe I'll see him again. I wish Dad was awake when I woke up, because I felt sad again when I left the room and saw the rest of The House. I went to the washroom to drink some water and all I saw was that time when Bubbles and I used to bathe together, so happily and without having to worry about anything. I went back down to the living room to sit, and all I saw was Blossom and I playing together at my birthday party. She taught me how to play with the hula hoop, and throw darts, and hit a pinata without so much force that I would hurt everyone with the candies, and now, it's as if I'm her enemy now.

Blossom… I know you can't hear me now, but I just wish you'd understand… (cries) You were always kind to me, you were always teaching me things. I just wanted to help you too… (cries) and I just didn't want you to die.

Bubbles… You've always been so sweet to me and- and- (cries) When you stopped and became afraid of me… It's as if the world had… lost its color and only you can bring it back. I just wish you'd understand why I had to stun Blossom… Maybe tomorrow, if we talk, things will get better again?

Buttercup… I know how it's like for you to be upset all the time because I feel the same way too. Can't we be upset together? Rather than being alone? Maybe we can cheer each other up that way.

I hope tomorrow is a better day. I just want everyone to be safe, and alive, and happy…' - Bunny Utonium, 03/09/89, 0425. Sound Record File 17.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 0749.**

Blossom was miserable the moment she woke up. She knew that her vengeful actions the previous night would likely have consequences, and she was right. Dad had once again thrown her in together with Selicia and Buttercup for her morning bath, and while she was being led away roughly by Selicia as if she was a prisoner, she saw a glimpse of the look Dad had given her.

It had made her anxious throughout her bath, and it couldn't even be topped by Selicia rubbing her skin roughly with a sponge, treating her like a washboard, and pulling her hair both by accident and design. When she went down the stairs - and she actually had to take the stairs while Bubbles, Buttercup, and Bunny flew down - she saw that her special treatment did not end with her 'no powers' rule. While everyone else got to pick between tuna, cheese, and egg sandwiches on a central plate, Selicia had slapped Blossom's hand away when she dared to attempt the same thing.

Instead, when Dad came over to the dining table, he plopped down a bowl of unflavored oatmeal in front of her.

"Bon appétit!" Selicia said to Blossom sarcastically as the enhanced little girl made a face while she scooped up a spoonful of the stuff before putting it back again. She eyed Dad helplessly, who ignored her and just concentrated on his newspapers. She then glared at Bunny, whose eyes flitted back to her tuna sandwich just before they made eye contact, something which made her all the madder.

"Do I have to smack your hand again, Blossom?" Selicia warned her. "Or are you going to be a good little girl and start eating that bowl of goodness your Dad worked so hard to make?"

"I know you mean well, but there's no need to threaten her with physical punishments, dear," Professor Utonium said without looking up from his newspaper and egg-and-cabbage sandwich as if Blossom did not exist. "It'll only make her more violent than she already is."

Blossom was devastated upon hearing that. Trapped. It wasn't fair! She wasn't violent! She'd only hit Bunny because she had done something terrible! But there was no recourse for her once Dad had decided her fate. Looking down at her pitiful bowl of slushy oatmeal, she dipped her spoon into white mass and put it into her mouth. It was almost tasteless. Eating paper would have made for a more interesting experience.

But it wasn't over yet. When Blossom was done, she made for the door as fast as she could, only to be called back by Dad. Reluctantly, she padded back to him, looking a little more mousy than usual. By then, the whole family was already up.

"Bunny, why don't you stand in front of Blossom?" Dad suggested gently to the youngest of the quartet. Bunny did so reluctantly too, afraid that something else would happen and make Blossom resent her further. She looked down at Blossom, only to regret it when she made eye contact briefly. She looked away, then to the ground, then to her hands.

"Blossom, you know what to do," Dad suggested again.

"But… What do you mean?" Blossom squeaked. Bubbles and Buttercup were watching from next to the dining table. Only Mom was away, grabbing the Girls' respective winter jackets.

"What do you think? You're going to apologize to Bunny for what you did last night. Now," Dad said. Blossom didn't like it. In her mind, she had done nothing wrong. She was disgusted by what Bunny did - it was beyond even her darkest moment, beyond even what Buttercup was capable of. Those men were torn to shreds! And that was on top of what she had done to her! How could she ever sleep next to someone like that?

"Now, Blossom," Dad ordered again when Blossom fell silent. "We're not leaving until you do."

There was a pregnant silence after that as Blossom stared at the floor resentfully. Tears prickled her eyes as she couldn't stop thinking about how unfair it was.

"Blossom, I'm serious. Do I have to start counting? You need to start treating your younger sister better," Dad scolded, breaking the silence.

"Fine, I'm sorry! Can I go now!?" Blossom yelled all of a sudden, making Bubbles, Buttercup, and Bunny jump.

"Selicia, honey, why don't you take Bubbles, Buttercup, and Bunny out to the car," Professor Utonium said, deceptively calm, but his eyes - those eyes told a different story. Selicia gave the Girls (other than Blossom) their jackets before shepherding them towards the door and out. Selicia made to hang Blossom's jacket on the wall but dropped it on the floor when she missed the hook deliberately. Blossom could only watch helplessly. The front door slammed shut and silence ruled again after that, ominously so.

When they were well and truly alone, with no Girls peeking through the windows, the professor grabbed Blossom by the arms roughly and sat her down on the dining table. Blossom whined wildly from the treatment and forced herself free from the professor's grasp.

"What is wrong with you, Blossom!?" the professor scolded the enhanced little girl. "Why have you been misbehaving so much lately!?"

Blossom folded her arms, glaring spitefully at her Dad from the corner of her eyes as she turned away from him.

"You were wrong to kick her out of your room and you know it," the professor said. "You don't have the right to do that."

"I don't care," Blossom said defiantly. "And why do you care? You don't love me anymore."

The professor was just about to say something when he heard it. He shut his mouth after that, clenching his jaws. His hand had gone up. He didn't expect this. Since when did the situation with Blossom evolve to become… this?

The professor bent down to get closer to Blossom's eye level. Blossom did not turn her head.

"Blossom, look at me," the professor beckoned for the sulking Girl to regard him, but she wouldn't do it. Putting his hand on her chin, he turned her head, but the hateful look on her face was heartbreaking that he almost regretted it. "That's not true at all."

"You've stopped doing everything with me. You won't even talk to me anymore," Blossom confessed. "Everything's about Bunny now."

Oh, that. Jealousy. But the worst thing to the professor wasn't that. It was the fact that he had inadvertently encouraged Blossom to resent Bunny.

"I-" the professor wanted to deny it but thought better of it. "Look, I know I haven't been spending much time with you, or Bubbles and Buttercup, but it's for a good reason-"

"I don't care," Blossom interrupted.

"Bunny's younger! She needs more attention than the rest of you. She's younger, and yet she's involved in more dangerous matters!" the professor explained. "Do you remember how it was like when you were two weeks old? I spent all my waking moment and energy with the three of you." The professor laughed as he thought back to those times. Those were sweet memories, like scenes taken not from Earth, but from some mythological heaven. "I even got sick from all that work - since there's the three of you."

Blossom's face had melted upon mention of the past. Things were so much better back then, back when they didn't have to worry about fighting crime, at least when their first mission came up. But that was then, and Blossom wanted everything now.

"I don't care!" Blossom sulked. "She's only one person and there's the four of us."

"Why do you have to be so difficult, Blossom!?" the professor said, exasperated. "Fine. If you don't want to sleep in the same bed with Bunny, that's all good. You're getting a new room starting today."

"Dad!" Blossom exclaimed when she heard it.

"Oh, you'll love it! You won't have to share your bed with anyone! Or your new room for that matter! Your very white, and very bland, little room!" the professor continued to paint Blossom a very vivid picture.

"But I like my room!" Blossom yelled, only to be ignored.

"You'll get to be alone with no Bunny to bother you at all!" Dad went on, feigning excitement. "Just you and the four walls, with maybe a few toys for company!"

"Dad, stop!" Blossom pleaded with him. She could tell that he wasn't being very sincere. The way he was acting scared her, perhaps even more so than the consequences of her actions.

"Toys make good friends, don't you think?" the professor continued with his faux-excitement act. "They'll do whatever you want, whenever you want it!"

"Stop!" Blossom begged, horrified to tears. "I don't want to be alone! I don't want-" she had started crying so hard that she could no longer maintain the rationality for talking. It was only at that point that the professor stopped. He folded his arms and leaned against the table as he waited it out so that Blossom could cry her fill and perhaps regain a semblance of rationality.

"Blossom!" he called out to her after a while. The muted honking of the car horn outside was signaling that time was short. "Hey, Blossom!"

Still bawling, Blossom looked up at Dad.

"Do you understand what I'm saying now?" he asked. Blossom stared at him, dazed. The professor thought that she was still in no condition for a lesson in philosophy. "It wasn't pleasant for Bunny when you kicked her out of her room. It's her room too, by the way, not just yours. Do you understand how that feels now?"

Blossom nodded. The professor tore a kitchen towel off the dinner table, bent down next to Blossom, and started wiping her tears away with care as she continued to sniffle. When her eyes were fairly dry, he wiped the snot coming out of her nose and got her to blow into it. Deep down though, Blossom wasn't convinced. She wasn't just mad at Bunny for stunning her with her infrared beam, but she was afraid as well. She had injured her once, and in her mind, she could injure her again.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Pokey Oaks Kindergarten Complex.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1235.**

Bunny continued to stare at her worksheet, her eyes distant despite being a mere couple of feet away from her paper. There were just a few simple questions on the sheet of paper, accompanied by cartoons, but she couldn't concentrate at all.

She had tried everything to turn back time, but nothing worked. Throughout the day, whenever she approached Bubbles, what was supposed to be her sweetest sister would cringe away from her. When she tried talking to her, she would stay silent and invent all sorts of excuses for doing so, and even in the few times she uttered something, she would merely nod and reply with a noncommittal 'sure' or 'okay'.

As a result, she had to eat alone (with her classmates, who weren't privy to her familial struggles), and play apart from her sisters during recess.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ When the phone rang, Bunny did not race to pick it up. Instead, she continued to stare into the white space of her worksheet. Miss Keane could only look on worriedly. She had wanted to talk to the newest addition to her class, but her indecision had cost her the opportunity.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ Neither did Blossom answer the call, afraid of even crossing paths with Bunny, not for fear of being assaulted, but for fear of running into the need to talk to her.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ Eventually, Bunny began to budge when Mac made for the phone, curious about what he would hear from it. She sprinted for it and managed to pick it up before Mac was even halfway across the room.

"Hello?" Bunny said, her voice sounding something like a funeral dirge.

"What took you so long?" it was General Blackwater, and thankfully, he wasn't as forceful with his criticism of her as he was before. Bunny couldn't handle another bad news, no matter how small or insignificant it was. "Now, we have a high-profile mission for you today. It's very important, so listen up! I want you at 5 Kirkwall Street, room three at the Outskirts by one-fifteen today."

Bunny did not reply.

"You got that?" the general prompted her.

"Yes," she said absentmindedly.

"One last thing. I want you in disguise. General Blackwater out," and the phone went dead, with a constant beep replacing his voice.

Putting down the phone wordlessly, Bunny went over to Miss Keane.

"May I leave the class? I have to go fight crime," she muttered, looking as if someone had died.

"Sure, go right ahead," Miss Keane said, but when Bunny turned around, she called out to her: "Wait, Bunny."

Bunny turned around again, her eyes turned to the floor.

"Bunny, if something is bothering you…" Miss Keane said.

"I don't want to talk about it," Bunny replied before Miss Keane could finish.

"Well, if you feel like doing that, you can come to me," Miss Keane said. Without another word though, Bunny turned around and walked away, leaving the classroom like a ghost. Most of her classmates didn't even see her leave, and Blossom and Bubbles were relieved to see Bunny leave. For some reason, Buttercup was grinning maniacally as Bunny's back was turned. Blossom and Bubbles had caught that expression, which only confused them. Buttercup rarely smiled these days.

Outside the classroom, Bunny hovered her way into the USDO armory built into the kindergarten, and locked the door. Before she could do anything, however, she saw that someone had forced open her wardrobe and messed up the contents inside. It couldn't be Bubbles, could it? It was either Blossom or Buttercup since they were usually the ones with the initiative.

Groaning miserably, Bunny began changing half-heartedly. Taking off her armor and weapons and uniform, she browsed through her wardrobe. Most of the costumes and clothes inside were damaged, leaving only a few sets available. She eventually selected a pair of blue jeans and a pink blouse that reminded her of Blossom. Taming her hair with a net, she chose a black bob cut wig that reminded her of Buttercup. She looked herself in the mirror and found some rare comfort in her appearance. It felt good, being someone else. There was just one more thing to add. Opening a drawer in her wardrobe, she picked a lens container that wasn't smashed in by one of her sisters. She changed her pupil colors before the mirror, and saw that it was blue, like Bubbles'.

Everything was reminding her of her sisters.

'Don't cry, Bunny,' she told herself. 'Don't cry or you'll waste too much time.' She still had to put on some minor make-up. But before she could do that, she felt a sharp pain in her chest and began coughing uncontrollably. She groaned in pain as she bent down, leaning against the wall on one arm. The pain was merciless as it didn't leave immediately and when it eventually did, it had spread down her torso, into her kidneys before disappearing. It had been paralyzing, and Bunny could only hope that it didn't happen again during an operation.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. 5 Kirkwall Street.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1319.**

Bunny was late, but she cared less about it. She couldn't bring herself to care about anything anymore. Since she was in disguise, she had to eschew the use of her bike and come down to the assigned address via the crammed Townsville subway.

Coming up from the underground, she walked down the street towards the location, which turned out to be an old but well-maintained motel, which was to be expected from the outskirts of the city, which was less dense than the center, and more accessible to travelers passing through. As usual, people stared at her as she was walking past them, but this time, it was because children were rarely left alone in Townsville due to the crime, including the kidnappings and child slavery and trafficking rings.

Walking into the office, she walked past the receptionist, only to be stopped and questioned once again. Even in her depressed state though, she knew better what to do from her experience last time.

"My dad's staying here," she claimed, and when she was questioned as to why she was walking around alone, she explained that she was just buying some candy and that it was strange that people were so cautious in Townsville, implying that she was from elsewhere, somewhere safer. If only it was true! After being warned about the dangers of the city, she was allowed through.

When she finally reached room three, she knocked on the door, which opened with a chain still attached. Rook, this time with a handlebar mustache and a pair of round-framed spectacles, poked his head out to look. He unlatched the door to let her in.

He wasn't alone. General Blackwater was there, and so was Corporal Nana. They were in disguise, but Bunny could identify them straight away.

"Little rabbit! It's so good to see you again!" Nana squealed in delight, picking her up right off the floor and hugging her. Bunny was largely unresponsive, however, and so she stopped. "What's wrong?"

"Whatever it is, it can wait. We have a critical operation to execute and we can't wait a minute longer," General Blackwater said impatiently.

"Sorry, Bunny. Be strong, 'kay?" Nana said, before letting Bunny down and sitting by the room's vanity, leaning against it.

"Any idea what you'll be doing today?" General Blackwater asked as Bunny sunk her butt into the foot of the bed. Bunny did not respond. She was just sitting there, looking down at the carpeted floor. Exasperated, the general grab her by the arms and shook her. "I need you to focus, Bunny! This is important! It's important for Townsville, it's important for me, and it's certainly very important to you!"

"Why?" Bunny asked, something she had never done before when it came to a mission. It didn't go unnoticed that the enhanced Girl was more apathetic than ever before. Something was wrong, but the general did not have the luxury of time.

"Because it concerns your 'sisters' directly!" the general said. "Are you interested now?"

Her sisters. They had been acting as anything but. However, she couldn't forget the past, nor could she give up on a brighter future with them, with the enemies gone, and just her sisters and her left alone to perhaps rekindle their sisterhood and earn their happy ending.

"Yes," Bunny looked the general straight in the eyes, furrowing her eyebrows. She wanted her sisters back, and all she needed was time and opportunity. If it meant going against Blossom's principles and killing more enemies to save them again, then so be it.

"As you know, Rook here had tasked you with a stealth mission at Precinct 13. That was a cakewalk, I heard. Now, it's the real deal," General Blackwater explained. "I take it that you should know your way around a stealth mission by now because you'll be dealing with Police Chief Paul Feig today."

Bunny's eyes lit up upon the bare mention of the police betrayer's name.

"Do I get to kill him?" she asked.

"Not yet," the general said. "Our spies and reconnaissance teams reported that he is not in his office at this time. You will instead be collecting evidence of his activities. We will need them as both justification and material for planning our offensives."

"But what about-"

"You'll get to do it soon, Bunny. As soon as we got what we need, you'll get to kill him ASAP," the general promised. "He's very important to the diseased organs of the Townsville Police Department. Taking him out will severely inconvenience our enemies. It will save your family because they will take them out if they succeed. But for now, do this one favor for me."

"Gladly…" Bunny agreed.


	117. Chapter 110: Palace of Minos (Part 1)

**Chapter 110: Palace of Minos (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1347.**

A girl walked through the sliding glass doors of Precinct 77. It was the middle of the day, just after lunch. It was busy by that time, with most of the seats in the lobby taken up by crime victims. Upfront, several police officers were arguing with a group of bikers. There was a train of officers bringing handcuffed criminals to the back. Not a single moment of silence was to be found.

The girl stood in the middle of the lobby, waiting, looking especially upset. She waited as the police officers manning the crime report desks continued to argue with the group of bikers. One of the bikers got especially angry and had to be pulled away by his fellow leather jackets. When it was all over, the girl, who was in a pink blouse and blue jeans, started forward, wiping tears away quickly.

"Hey! Wait your turn, you lil' shit!" someone yelled from the seats, a man with a deep voice who sounded more like a criminal than a victim. The girl seemed undeterred. She went all the way up to the reception area even as a few others protested that she had jumped the queue.

One of the police officers stood up and leaned over to her. A white man of tall stature, intimidating due to his height, which reached over six feet, he listened intently, his face soft. He seemed sympathetic.

"Is there something wrong, little girl?" the police officer asked.

"My sister's in big trouble!" the girl cried as she sniffled and rubbed her eyes. "It's my Dad… He- he's in trouble, too."

"I see," the police officer said. He waved a hand over to the seat at the reception, offering it to her: "Why not sit down so we can talk about it?"

"But people will hear me if we sit here!" the girl cried. "What if they hear me?"

"Honey, no one's going to care…" the tall police officer said.

"They-they'll kill him! Please!" the girl said, shockingly. The police officer surmised that it might have something to do with the mob, whichever one of the two hundred or so present in Townsville. The cop looked around the room, now paranoid that someone was indeed listening.

"Hey, sarge, lemme handle the girl's case, let Philly take over the front," the tall cop said, before rounding his desk and going past a pair of saloon doors. Putting a hand on her back, she led the girl to the back, towards one of the interrogation rooms.

"C-can I use the washroom?" she suddenly asked.

"Sure, this way," the officer said before leading her down another corridor, one where there was a blue male sign and a pink female sign. The officer led her to the female washroom. The girl didn't budge after that. "Well, go on. What are you waiting for?"

"I don't want to be alone," the girl claimed. "Can you come with me? I feel safe with you around."

The officer sighed, but with a smile on his face. It'd made him feel needed, useful in some way. It'd stroked his ego a little.

"Alright, but you gotta use the men's room. Guys like me don't get to enter the women's water closet," he said, before leading the girl into the other washroom. He led her to the closest stall and waited.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1351.**

Bunny smiled, feeling victorious that she had almost effortlessly brought herself into Precinct 77's bowels. While she was sitting on the toilet, she brought up her x-ray vision and saw that the friendly tall cop's back was turned to her stall. Her heart immediately sank. The cop had been nice to her. It wasn't that Bunny did not agree that killing was bad - it was just that she thought killing was necessary sometimes…

Even if the target to be terminated was a good man. Bunny removed her belt before moving to stealthily open the door of her stall. Silently, she pushed it open. She didn't open it all the way, just enough for her to squeeze through without making a sound. She stared at the door for a second, her x-ray vision still up. No one was going to stumble upon them anytime soon.

Letting herself hover, Bunny slipped her belt around the tall cop's neck and tightened it. The cop couldn't even yell. All he could do was make a gurgling sound as he struggled to breathe, but couldn't. She pulled him back into the toilet stall, and when she saw that he was reaching for his gun, she tightened the belt so hard that it'd crushed his windpipe entirely, the shock of it precluding any attempts at self-defense.

It was then that Bunny had genuinely cried, as the good officer was choking to death with no further effort from her. She hugged him from behind as she laid him down gently to the floor and whispered apologies in an attempt to make it easier for him to die. She shushed the dying man as he struggled in his death throes, unable to even take in his dying breaths. She kept at it until he was motionless. It was back to business after that. There was simply no time to waste. Putting the dead cop on the toilet seat to hide him better, Bunny followed the same routine of locking the stall from the inside and flying out from the top.

Bringing up her cloaking field, Bunny stared at the door with her x-ray vision once more as she waited for everyone in the corridor outside to turn the corner before rushing for the door and leaving the men's washroom.

Bunny had been briefed on the mission after she had agreed with General Blackwater's strategy. It was strange though - since when would a general ever need the approval of a subordinate? It felt as if he had warmed up to her, perhaps even a little too much.

Regardless of that, the mission remained the same as before. She was supposed to find the target's office and extract whatever incriminating evidence and material before leaving. She knew the exact layout of Precinct 77. The police chief's office was on the top floor, towards the back of the building, where it was safest.

But the mission was two-fold, and obtaining evidence of Police Chief Feig's corruption was only one of her objectives. Her other objective was to reconnoiter the precinct in preparation for a possible assault, to properly identify and account for the number of future enemies in the building, identify any useful features around the building as well as come up with a plan of action for an assault.

On a quick round around the first floor, Bunny passed by the breakroom. There, she saw men wearing heavily customized uniforms. Some of them wore the uniform of the military, but with the insignias replaced hastily with the TPD's. Others wore what could not really be considered uniforms, but a mix of civilian clothing and bits and pieces from their former affiliation. They carried their weapons and gear around, despite being on break time, and they would put a SWAT team to shame. They had with them assault rifles, light machineguns, and even grenade launchers, backed by military-grade bulletproof vests and helmets. They were the STARS. Bunny had been informed during the training about their formation. They would make things harder for her if they get in the way.

There was also something else she noticed. The windows were all shut and locked, and they were grated or reinforced with bars and wires. These TPD officers were ready for anything. But it wouldn't be a problem for her, as she could just yank the whole frame along with the window out of the wall.

Climbing up to the second floor, she noticed, too, that the building was swarming with police officers. A group of SWAT officers had rushed down the stairs and she was barely able to get out of the way. It was like being in a hornet's nest, and she wondered how it would be like to kick it if it was already so ready to pounce on an intruder as it was.

On the third floor, the number of police officers - and civilian staff, did not decrease. The building was packed to the brim. Bunny did not know the full extent of this, but it was due to the fact that Police Chief Feig was selected to be the city's foremost police chief placed in charge of a history-making task force assembled to clean up the city for good.

The corridor was arranged in a square. Bunny had to walk along the corners to avoid crashing into the officers walking towards the stairs. But it was tight. The precinct wasn't like a police headquarters, and it wasn't built for heavy traffic. Once or twice, an officer's hand would brush against her head and she would bolt when it happened. The officers who felt her would then turn to investigate what they had touched, only to shrug it off, thinking that it was their imagination.

It didn't take long for Bunny to reach the door of Feig's office - Rook's plan to acclimatize her to a stealth mission like this had been the right call.

Stopping by the door, she surveyed her corridor for any pedestrians. Finding none, she brought up her x-ray vision once more - and found that a cop was about to round the corner towards her. She tried to open the door, but it was locked. The cop rounded the corner and passed by.

Pulling out a pair of lockpicking tools, she began working on the lock. As the cop disappeared around another corner, she pushed the lock aggressively, as she saw another cop coming towards her using her x-ray vision.

It helped that she was able to see through the door to peek at the mechanisms of the lock inside. It had made lockpicking vastly easier. The lock couldn't hold for even a minute the moment Bunny started working on it, as her enhanced nimbleness, senses and reaction speeds made the lock's mechanism seem like child's play.

There was a mechanical sound when the lock finally gave way, which was sweet to Bunny's ears. Looking over her shoulder, she saw with her x-ray vision that the second cop was looming closer, so she opened the door quickly and went through as soon as she could, gently closing the door without locking it, as locking it again would create too much noise, slight as it was. Bunny braced herself against the door, gripping the doorknob tightly just in case the cop decided to try his police chief's door - it would give the impression that the door had been locked.

Using her x-ray vision once more, she saw that the cop passing by hadn't even noticed her. Regardless, the man tried the door and discovered that it wouldn't open. Bunny had held firm to the doorknob, successfully tricking him. Cautious, she continued watching the unaware police officer, and when he was rounding another corner, locked the police chief's door again.

With that, she began searching through the police chief's office, first searching the tabletop, and on finding nothing, began picking the drawers of the desk and rooting through their contents. But the desk was completely clean.

Rook had to assist her through the radio as Bunny was barely literate, and knew only so many words at that or their various connotations and implications. The next thing she did was to go through the file cabinets, quoting titles to Rook, or failing that, spelling out the titles to him. She would query interesting-looking words that she couldn't understand in an attempt to form a picture of what she was looking at.

It was a slow process. Half an hour passed, then one, but Bunny was kept motivated by the fact that it concerned her sisters, her family, and how close she was to eliminating Feig as a threat. Eventually, they did come upon something, and it had something to do with a victory parade just a couple days away. It wasn't a thick file. It was deceptively light, the file itself smaller and stuck between two larger, fatter files such that it would have been easy to miss. The first page seemed innocent enough, though what caught Bunny's eye was its mention of the Powerpuff Girls:

* * *

**Date: 03/06/89**

**From: Commissioner Davis**

**To: Police Chief Feig**

**Title: Victory Parade Security**

As you might be aware from our previous meeting, there will be a victory parade to be held this Saturday, on 11 March. It will commence at noon exactly and end at around 1:15 pm. It will begin Uptown, in the Townsville Stadium, proceed through Downtown and finally end at the Central District, by the Townsville Museum. The victory parade will center around the Powerpuff Girls. They will be put at the head of the column, on their own floater. Attached are more documents with all the details.

Considering that you are the man behind dismantling some of the mobs in Townsville, I have decided that you will be in charge of security for this event. I have a feeling that lots of people would want revenge for what you and the Powerpuff Girls have been doing. Preparations for the event have been ongoing for a while, and now the route is being prepared for it. I want you to begin making putting men on the job, starting now. I want three thousand men on the case, all along the route, and I want you to make plans now and let me know how it looks like.

* * *

**Date: 03/07/89**

**From: Police Chief Feig**

**To: Commissioner Davis**

**Title: About Parade Security**

Commissioner Davis, you have appointed the right man for the job! I have just the thing for this important event. Due to the mobile nature of the event, I will assign two hundred men to follow the victory column as it moves towards the Townsville Museum - regular officers, SWAT officers and STARS officers will be part of this mobile company, and they'll become part of the victory column. I've already made arrangements with the event coordinator. Teams of police officers will line the entire route on the ground, on both sides. I will have sniper teams in every building. More SWAT teams and STARS teams will be on standby at key buildings along the route. All will be supported by cruisers and vans. I will fly helicopters in the area.

With all due respect, commissioner, the recommendations for the captains and men you've forwarded to me will not do. I would like to handpick my own men for the positions to be filled. As you know, you've made me the head of Townsville's clean-up task force, and I know exactly who will be fit to run the security of the victory parade. I've already sent the word out. Let me know if you would like me to reverse the decision, but due to the tight schedule, I would rather that you just trust me on this.

* * *

**Date: 03/07/89**

**From: Commissioner Davis**

**To: Police Chief Feig**

**Title: Re: About Parade Security**

Very well, choose your own guys for this, you have earned the right. I will be expecting the rest of the plans soon.

Bunny knew that something was up when Feig was put in charge of her sisters' security. She tried searching through the files for the plans, but there was none to be found. It couldn't be that the police chief had made no plans, which meant that a copy of it hadn't been made, either due to security reasons, or the fact that Paul Feig had something to hide. The faxes between Commissioner Davis and Police Chief Feig did not serve as evidence for corruption however, as it appeared clean on the surface. Bunny had thought that it was good enough, but Rook had set her straight after she read him the faxes.

* * *

She went through the rest of the file's content, hoping for anything incriminating - not because she earnestly believed in due process this time, but because it would bring her one step closer to killing Feig, as stated by the rules of General Blackwater's game.

* * *

**Date: 03/07/89**

**To: Captain Sanders**

**From: Police Chief Feig**

**Title: Break Out the Good Stuff**

Captain Sanders,

The victory parade for the Powerpuff Girls is going to be held this Saturday. I want you and the people you trust to be part of the security detail. You'll be close to them - those THINGS. You are going to help change history for the rest of us, and of course, such a job comes with great rewards.

It is time you break out the good stuff. Those drugs that stupid bastard Mullens kept in evidence? Bring them out and start handing them out to your pals. You will be getting more from certain sources. In fact, try to rope in the cleaner guys too, see if they will fall for it. Put them in their drinks or something, I don't care. Just get more of them hooked on the stuff and put them on the parade detail.

And don't ask. This is coming from them. You know who. Just do it, and you will get to retire sooner than you think.

* * *

When Bunny saw this letter and read it to Rook, they knew that this was it. It was evidence that Feig had been involved in the drug trade, though with what kind of drugs and how much, it wasn't certain. Why and how it was related to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's victory parade, Bunny had no idea. Furthermore, why and how a damning fax like this could be found in his office was another mystery. Wouldn't Feig had wanted to hide it? The fact that the fax to Captain Sanders was the only one suggested that every other similar fax to other members of the TPD was likely removed from the file, either because they were made redundant or that the fax to Sanders was left inside by accident.

It didn't matter. Bunny had found it. She felt ecstatic as if she was the winner of a treasure hunt. Hugging the file against her chest, she brought her cloaking field up again, pleased with herself that she could cloak the file along with her then. What else could she turn invisible this way? she wondered.

Things were looking up. She could feel it. Soon, she would be back in the warm embrace of her sisters once more, and there would be peace in her family within mere days. That was when she felt it again. She dropped to her knees, dropping the file. Sharp pain had stabbed her chest, multiple points of them. She wheezed and coughed, spitting out blood. On wiping her face, she noticed that her cloaking field had been disrupted with a flash of bright purple - and there was blood on her hand. In fact, her entire face felt slick. As it did before, the pain lingered for a while before spreading to other parts of her body - this time, her heart, her stomach, then her kidneys. She felt it down there too.

Sinking to the ground, she curled up into a fetal position as she bore with the pain…

"Bunny! Bravo-five-zero! What's your status, over?" a voice spoke into her ear. General Blackwater. "This is Blackwater, I repeat, what is your status, over?"

Bunny shook awake upon hearing it. Upon realizing that she had been immobilized for a time, she got up quickly, looking around as if the walls had ears. No, there was no one around her - it was odd because she thought someone was watching her. She'd felt it so acutely. Yet, she didn't remember seeing anyone come in as she writhed in pain on the ground either.

"This is Bunny, General Blackwater," Bunny replied over the radio in hushed tones. She was still in enemy territory. She wondered if she should tell the general about her sickness. She wondered for a while, wondered until she was afraid the general might yell in her ear again. "I'm fine," she eventually decided against it. "I just had to hide for a while."

It would take some time after that, but Bunny was able to escape Precinct 77 undetected, despite every window in the building being barred or reinforced by other means. Back at 5 Kirkwall Street, she had made sure to enter a public restroom cloaked first to wash the blood away before she saw General Blackwater again. It was at this time that she discovered how much further her 'sickness' had progressed…

For she had seen, before a mirror, that she had bled through her eyes and ears in no small volumes. No wonder her face was wet.


	118. Chapter 111: Palace of Minos (Part 2)

**Chapter 111: Palace of Minos (Part 2)**

**Audio Sensor Recording 03081989-2123-TH**

**DOC 08 MAR (Wednesday) 1989**

**EXTRACTED 11 MAR (Saturday) 1989**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Field Researcher Utonium: Alice, I really need to talk to you.

Psychiatrist Alice: That's why I'm here. (crinkling of a sofa) Is it about the Girls?

Field Researcher Utonium: Yes. It's all about the Girls.

Psychiatrist Alice: Which one of them? How do you feel about each of them?

Field Researcher Utonium: Am I… a patient?

Psychiatrist Alice: No, you're not being evaluated, Thomas. I'm worried about the Girls too.

Field Researcher Utonium: Bunny concerns me most.

Psychiatrist Alice: How so?

Field Researcher Utonium: You've talked to her. I've told you about it. She's not getting along very well with her sisters. Blossom repeated her mistake with Bunny. She- she attacked Bunny even though Bunny was just trying to protect her.

Psychiatrist Alice: Is that what Bunny said? Sorry, I'm just trying to figure out the extent you know about this.

Field Researcher Utonium: Bubbles told me everything. Bunny too. Blossom lied and- kept things from me.

Psychiatrist Alice: What about Buttercup?

Field Researcher Utonium: Buttercup wasn't there and even if she was… (sighs) she probably wouldn't have bothered getting involved. She probably would have just stood by and watched.

Psychiatrist Alice: It's not just about Bunny, isn't it?

Field Researcher Utonium: Well… No, I guess it's not. My family's such a mess… I'm a terrible father. I can't even look after my own kids!

Psychiatrist Alice: It's not your fault, Thomas. Your kids are special. Very special. You said it yourself, using those exact words. Since you can't fly with them or fight crime alongside them, or even supersede General Blackwater's authority, there's only so much you can do. If it's any comfort, they spoke highly of you during my session with them today. Well, most of them. Buttercup's mostly silent today.

Field Researcher Utonium: (dejectedly) What did they say?

Psychiatrist Alice: Bunny thinks about you all the time, and when her sisters couldn't give her the love and attention she needs, she looks to you and Selicia.

Field Researcher Utonium: That's not exactly a recipe for healthy family life, now is it? The conflict… the sibling abuse.

Psychiatrist Alice: No, but- don't be upset, Thomas. These things take time to sort themselves out. It looks bad, but I think it's just the Girls being born little kids, and so encountered these hurdles so quickly. With normal children, it would be years before friction starts to appear between the siblings; throw in some law enforcement responsibilities and all the complications that could arise from children witnessing crime and violence, and it's a powder keg waiting to explode.

Field Researcher Utonium: That's not a good prognosis.

Psychiatrist Alice: It's not a prognosis. It will take time. I believe that, with your help, Bunny will find a place among her sisters in a few weeks or a few months. If we're lucky, we'll get a lull in criminal activity, they'll be able to focus on being little girls again, interact meaningfully and wholesomely, and forget about their conflict during the crime war.

Field Researcher Utonium: You really think so?

Psychiatrist Alice: You're not the problem, Thomas. You were never the problem, only the solution.

Field Researcher Utonium: I wish I can be as optimistic as you.

Psychiatrist Alice: Don't think about it. Listen… About Blossom. I've spoken to her at length about her interactions with you. She said that you haven't been paying her any attention. Is that true?

Field Researcher Utonium: She's being grounded for beating up Bunny and lying, and that's part of that.

Psychiatrist Alice: What about before that?

Field Researcher Utonium: I know, I've been spending more time with Bunny - but she's younger, and she needs my help to get her on her feet and come to terms with the reality of being the- the soldier General Blackwater wants.

Psychiatrist Alice: I realize this is tough, but I think you might be overdoing it a little-

Field Researcher Utonium: Don't you START telling me HOW to raise my own kids!

Psychiatrist Alice: Thomas! My God!

Field Researcher Utonium: I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… (cries) It's just- It's all my fault. When I first thought about creating Bunny, I'd thought of her as a- a sacrificial pawn to push forward in place of her older sisters. I regretted thinking that way, but it's too late, and now she's suffering because of me. I could have said no.

Psychiatrist Alice: You were ordered to make Bunny. You couldn't have. You would have been imprisoned for insubordination and half a dozen other charges if you didn't.

Field Researcher Utonium: No, I could have negotiated with General Blackwater. I could have offered an alternative. I didn't. I went for the quickest solution to spare Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup from having to fight crime.

It's all I can do to… atone for my sins. I owe Bunny all the love and attention I can give her. I owe her everything.

Psychiatrist Alice: I understand what you mean… Just- don't be too hard on yourself. You were doing what you thought was best for everyone you love. But Thomas, listen to me, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup need you too. I hesitate to say this, but… Selicia could help you with Bunny, and you could give Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup more time. You see, your decision… your feelings… aren't wrong. They're logical, even - I mean, you're THE Utonium. It's just that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup didn't see it that way - they couldn't. They're little girls at their core. They're different from us adults and they have different needs, made all the more pressing by their uniquely stressful positions.

Field Researcher Utonium: Maybe you're right… But- I… I just need some time.

Psychiatrist Alice: Listen, at the very least, the good news is that Bubbles seem to be doing better than before, despite her past addiction to this 'His Secret 2.0'. She wasn't even upset that you were spending all your time with Bunny, at least until very recently. It's Buttercup we need to talk about.

Field Researcher Utonium: What did she do this time?

Psychiatrist Alice: It's more about what she hasn't been doing. I couldn't get her to talk at all. That's dangerous. It means she no longer trusts me. It could mean that she has something to hide. How long has it been this way?

Field Researcher Utonium: Days, I think, although I haven't been looking out for that kind of behavior. (pause) Alright, alright, don't give me that look. But I know something has changed with her. She doesn't really want to talk to me either.

Psychiatrist Alice: That just makes it all the more alarming, considering where you stand with her. This concerns me. We know what she's done in the past. She could be doing it again. There's… one other thing. It's the Smiths.

Field Researcher Utonium: What about them?

Psychiatrist Alice: Harold Smith was interrogated over the past few days. He was practically an open book when the interrogation team assigned to him was done and he spilled everything. One of those things was his dog. He claims that the Powerpuff Girls killed the family dog, which was one of the many, many reasons he chose to break into your home.

Field Researcher Utonium: Buttercup did it?

Psychiatrist Alice: I can't say for sure. No one cared about the dog. It was dug up from its grave in the Smiths' backyard only when I ordered it. Someone from the medical department will be performing an autopsy on it soon, but the initial reports suggested that someone 'small' was responsible for its death, based on the wounds inflicted on it.

Field Researcher Utonium: When did it happen? A few days ago? A week?

Psychiatrist Alice: Estimates put it at least three months back, Thomas.

Field Researcher Utonium: Another skeleton in the closet, just like the ones I found. (sighs)

Psychiatrist Alice: She could be hiding more secrets. What I fear is it's more than likely that she could be creating new ones frequently, and right under our noses, and she hasn't stopped. Her latest animal - or human - victim could have expired yesterday for all we know. With her kind of powers, she could easily find a way to sneak past security and into the city to murder someone.

Field Researcher Utonium: She can't be that ambitious. It's not that extreme. It can't be! I've been spending some time with her, to teach her-

Psychiatrist Alice: At least until recently.

(Silence)

Field Researcher Utonium: I know I'm to blame for this…

Psychiatrist Alice: That's not what I'm implying. She would have pushed you away even if you were heaping all your attention on her.

(Silence)

Psychiatrist Alice: Look, there's one way we can solve this. The Anti-X you've created. You could use that on Buttercup-

Field Researcher Utonium: I've already done that once! It made her miserable. Lifeless! I- I think that might have contributed to her withdrawal from the family, or whatever it is you're accusing her of.

Psychiatrist Alice: It'll be different this time. We douse her with the Anti-X and keep her at the USDO HQ for observation and treatment. It's safer this way, and I'll be able to work on her unobstructed and frequently.

Field Researcher Utonium: And what if I say no?

Psychiatrist Alice: Just think about it, Thomas. You know what's best for Buttercup. I just want you to consider it.

Field Researcher Utonium: I will.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1836.**

Bunny did not expect this at all. What she had expected was another day or two before she could even get close to Feig again, but here she was, standing before Precinct 77 for the second time in a single day.

After finding evidence of Feig's corruption, she returned home following a quick debriefing. However, there wasn't much to come home to. Blossom and Buttercup were ignoring her, and Bubbles had to be pleaded with and dragged along for Bunny to have what passed for a playmate. They continued their chess game. Although the board was kept before they could finish, Bunny was able to remember the positions of all the chess pieces.

It took too fast for Bunny to win however; it was as if Bubbles wasn't even trying. When Bunny asked what was wrong, Bubbles, after several more attempts at coaxing her to speak, would say that she didn't feel like playing with her.

'But why?' Bunny had asked.

'You- You've- changed… I guess," Bubbles had stuttered her way into her explanation. 'I can still remember so clearly what you've done to those men. I still remember your red eyes and I can't stop thinking about them.'

It was as if she had to forcibly stop herself from accusing her of something.

'Blossom, Buttercup, and I… We've done bad things before. I've been terrible before and I know how it's like but… You're- well- worse,' she had said, and it was like one blow of the sledgehammer after the next. 'You hurt Blossom on purpose, and those men… They didn't even look like men anymore…'

Bubbles would have run away there and then had Bunny not held her back. She had ended up pleading with her for a way to return things to how they were. The only answer Bubbles could give her was that it would take time, and only after she had stopped doing bad things.

Bunny couldn't even bring herself to stay in her room after that (not that Blossom would consider the room HER room). Instead, she left her older siblings and hid in the backyard. She remembered Nana telling her about how she would dance whenever she felt terrible, so she tried that. Despite the uneven ground and the snow in the backyard, Bunny was able to do a simple recital, aided by the same X-thrust ability that aided her in flight.

Dad would see it after that, giving her a one-man standing ovation, and when she cried, he comforted her, telling her, in his own words, about what Doctor Alice thought about her future with her older siblings. Bunny would reluctantly return to her room after that, but there would be no fun to be had there. At least, in the professor's words, not yet.

The Powerpuff hotline rang after that, with Rook on the line, asking for her to return to the Outskirts of Townsville right away. Bunny had seen it as a sign, a clue as to what she had to do. If she could end this as quickly as possible, and give it time - she would be back in her sisters' arms, happily ever after.

When she'd reached Rook in the same Motel, her instructions were short and to the point: Kill Feig. It was to be a black operation, and everyone in the precinct must be killed to prevent any news of the operation from getting out.

And now, here she was, standing before Precinct 77 once more, cloaked by her special invisibility power and armed to the teeth. She hadn't just brought along her standard combat gear. She had brought along some additional firepower. An M72 LAW rocket launcher and a batch of plastic explosives.

Walking through the glass doors of the precinct while tailing a group of trenchcoat-wearing detectives, Bunny walked right past reception and deeper into the building, planting plastic explosives along the way whenever no one else was looking. Those plastic explosives were strapped with electronics, wired to detonate using a remote.

She had studied the blueprints of the police station extensively before the operation had begun, and it was in this study that the perfect opening move of her assault was found. Descending a flight of stairs down to the basement of the precinct, she picked the lock barring the way to her very first objective. It didn't take her long, once again, and when she was done, she was met with walls upon walls of power equipment and electronics.

Rook would guide her through the process, but when she was done fiddling with the control board of an electronic security system, the exits of the building were closed off by electronically controlled gates. Bunny would then move over to the power systems before proceeding to rip out the wires and control boxes off the walls.

Darkness fell all across the precinct as anything electrical failed immediately, to be shortly replaced by emergency floodlights painting the corridors of the ill-fated police station red. Shouts and screams erupted throughout the station immediately, as Bunny decloaked herself, in preparation of the bloodbath to come.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1844.**

Before Detective Mullens had decided to come for Police Chief Paul Feig, he had been working towards the Amoeba Boys at first, first following along with Detective Wednesday's proposal to raid an orphanage with connections to a child sex slavery ring that ostensibly paid a 'protection fee' to the Amoeba Boys and the Lombardi Crime Family, and when that turned out an insufficient link to both the Amoeba Boys and Police Chief Feig due to the use of mirror agents they couldn't trace to the mob bosses and bent cops, they had gone for a drug-smuggling ring after that.

It was another joint cultist-mob operation, a relatively small one with just a few hundred syringes of His Secret, but it was located in the Outskirts where Feig was close to, and the corrupted Police Chief's name was uttered after much… persuasion.

Walking through the front entrances, Detective Garrett Mullens, along with his daughter, Detective Olivia Mullens, as well as Patrol-Dog Stanley Talker, went straight for the front desk, demanding to see Police Chief Feig.

The officer they talked to was in on it, the old detective knew. He was using delaying tactics - claiming that 'the chief is in a meeting', or that 'he is speaking to some important people right now, check back an hour later'. When courtesy didn't work, Mullens shoved his hastily-written warrant for arrest - which wasn't actually a legitimate one.

Police Chief Feig was dangerous, Mullens just knew it. A police chief who was on the payroll of the local dominant mob would be. The fact that his role was unknown made it worse. Mullens knew he had to find out, one way or another, and if it turned out to be a mistake - he'd just let the man go and deal with the consequences later. Sure, Commissioner Davis might force him to turn in his badge and gun for a month or two for holding up one of Townsville's most important police chiefs, but since when did suspension ever stop him from doing his work? If Feig turned out to be innocent, a short suspension was a small price to pay for finding out the nature of such a huge piece of the puzzle.

Mullens thought he had the desk sergeant, but before he could even peek at the crumpled-up paper he had produced, the building went dark before being lit up in hellish red.

That was how it started.

Before Mullens could even make sense of what was going on or plan his moves, explosions behind the reception desks knocked him off his feet. The officers on duty in the lobby were dashed against furniture and pillars, bloody messes to be painstakingly cut open and identified by coroners sometime down the line.

His ears ringing, Mullens was pulled to his feet by Olivia. He pulled his Colt Python out of his trenchcoat, cocking it. Civilians were screaming in the lobby; some huddled in corners they thought were safe, others ran deeper into the police station while a few tried to open the gate barring the front entrance to no avail.

"What's re plan, ross?" Stanley Talker asked as he got lower to the ground, as if ready to pounce on someone or something.

"Who could be attacking a precinct so early in the night?" Olivia wondered out loud; the noise made it hard to think.

"That's for us to find out," Garrett Mullens answered both of them. "Watch my back. We're going in."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1845.**

After sabotaging the precinct's electrical and electronic systems, Bunny had set off all the plastic explosives she had planted. It should be enough to throw her targets into disarray while she executed the next stage of her plans.

Leaving the power room and crossing over to another door in the basement, she ripped it open and shot a cop sitting behind a desk there with her MP5, killing him instantly. Another cop opened a second door opposite hers with his service pistol drawn, but Bunny shot him too, quickly enough to terminate him while taking only a few bullets that bounced off her armor harmlessly. It didn't even hurt that much because of the protection the armor offered.

The room she had assaulted was a security room, meant to act as a strong point to prevent a breakout of prisoners in the next room. There was a cabinet labeled 'Armory 3'. Bunny flew over to it and tore the doors open, revealing shotguns, pistols, and ammunition inside - but she didn't do it to loot it. Leaving it alone, she passed through the second door. After passing through, she shot and killed another cop with a rain of bullets through his meager cover. The cop had been hiding behind his desk with a shotgun.

Before Bunny was ten or so jail cells, all of which were filled. It was perfect.

Hovering over to the desk, she pulled the freshly-made police corpse out of its hiding spot and left it in front of the desk. Coming back around, she saw a big, red button at a corner of the tabletop. As she had done before in the first precinct she destroyed, she ripped away the safety guard protecting the emergency release button and pushed it. Over ten gates barring more than ten jail cells slid open simultaneously. As if drilled for this, Bunny hid under the table coolly and waited as the criminals streamed out and salvaged weapons from the path of police corpses and the devastated armory cabinet.

Almost immediately, there were gunshots and shouts coming from upstairs. Things were going according to plan.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1848.**

There were gunshots and shouts coming from below as Detective Mullens, Olivia, and Stanley Talker went deeper into the precinct. Men ran up a flight of stairs leading down, and the moment they saw the Mullens family and their intelligent service dog, they opened fire with their stolen guns. The detectives and talking dog ducked into cover in branching off corridors, with the detectives returning fire.

Criminals. One look and Mullens could tell. Four decades of service had made it second nature. The detective took another peek out of the corner. One of them was down but not dead, and he was screaming and writhing on the floor. There were more gunshots and shouts down the hallway.

"A jailbreak!?" Olivia shouted from the corridor opposite his.

"Looks like it!" the older Mullens concurred.

"Rhat's re plan?" the talking dog asked again.

"We're bagging them," the old detective decided. "We'll crawl slow, we'll do better if we avoid friendly fire with the seventy-seventh officers. We'll move on my go." Mullens raised three fingers, counting down by curling them. Three… Two…

Before he could hit one, however, something purple floated to the middle of the corridor they were peeking at, an MP5 pointed forward. Mullens hid immediately, shocked by the sudden appearance of that ghoulish thing. For some reason, the first thing that popped up in his mind was a ghost. He raised his hand at his daughter and dog to get them to stop, before putting a finger on his lips to shush them.

He peeked again. The floating thing turned out to be a being like the Powerpuff Girls. Come to think of it, he had read about the 'fourth Powerpuff Girl' in the newspaper and seen the news report on the TV. Mullens couldn't speak to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup about her because they'd stopped meeting. The detective couldn't risk drawing attention from the Lombardi, and he'd suspected of the Powerpuff Girls of working with them in some capacity.

The purple Girl was larger than the Powerpuff Girls and far better equipped. Before he knew it, she had zipped away deeper into the precinct.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1849.**

Bunny followed the sound of the firefight between police officers and their prisoners. Bringing up her x-ray vision, she saw several detectives and about ten cops trapped in the ground level office, with prisoners shooting from doors and windows. The cops were quickly becoming encircled. Staring off into the distance, she saw one or two criminals still trying to open security shutters blocking a side entrance to no avail.

This meant that over twenty targets were distracted, an opportunity she could not pass up. Flying over to one window looking into the office and flanking the cops, she poked her head out and fired twin laser beams from her eyes, at first taking off the arm of an officer before beheading another.

It didn't matter that the cops noticed her after that. One of them fired a shotgun at her, which stung, but when the cop responsible hid behind his desk, she drilled through it with her laser beam, and consequently, through him, which probably stung worse.

More firepower was directed at her after that. The police officers were quickly getting overwhelmed from all sides as the prisoners continued firing upon them. Bunny hid under her window, but there was no rest for her, for when a prisoner rounded the corner and raised his stolen pistol at her, she fired at him with her SMG, killing him. Another prisoner took cover in the corridor perpendicular to hers, popping off quick shots at her. She shielded her face with her arm, and the bullets did nothing, for a bubble-like purple energy shield appeared.

Was it a new power? There was no time to wonder, or investigate it, or enjoy it. Pulling a fragmentary grenade off her vest, Bunny primed it and hurled it. The grenade bounced off the wall, hard. It'd made sure that the prisoners wouldn't be picking it up anytime soon. There was a shout, then many before there was an explosion, then silence.

She spied on the prisoners with her x-ray vision. Four, five of them were caught in the blast. Four of them weren't moving, A fifth was rolling on the ground, clutching a severed arm.

Bunny returned to firing on the cops after that, splitting a cop's head from ear to ear with her laser beam the moment he poked out. A detective returned fire with a shotgun, but Bunny had caught him too, cutting his shotgun in half as well as his arms.

However, the enhanced Girl was beginning to tire. Vaulting over the window, she navigated the maze in the office formed by desks and crashed straight into one used by a still-living cop, pushing it into another, pinning the cop in between. There was a loud, bony crack as the cop's spine was shattered. She continued pushing, crushing the cop even further. He eventually died from extensive trauma.

Another cop poked out of his cover and unloaded his machine-pistol at her. Again, she raised her arm, and again, she somehow managed to form a purple energy shield without practice. However, there were too many bullets. The energy shield broke; the rest of the bullets slammed into her and she returned to cover. It might not have wounded her, but the sensation was no different from getting stung by a swarm of bees, if not worst.

Bunny was already beginning to feel faint from exhaustion and pain. It was too soon, but it was a fact she had to live with ever since she began feeling sick.

Drawing Ace's sword, Bunny dashed down the office. The officer shooting at her had been reloading, and he panicked and ran upon seeing her coming at him with a sword. Taking a swing, Bunny severed his right leg, causing him to miss a step and fall. She plunged the sword into his back after that, piercing his heart. There was another officer down the office, the only one left. On noticing that fact, the policewoman hid behind her desk.

Bunny did not wait. Rushing up to the desk, she drove her sword into it, penetrating the back of the desk and the shoulder of the policewoman hiding behind it. There was a hollow scream from inside the desk. Withdrawing the blade, she drove the sword in again, this time putting it through the back of the cop's head, which exited through her mouth. Blood was seeping out of the holes Bunny made in the desk when she withdrew her sword as if the desk was bleeding, painting the back panel and the floor red. Bunny's eyes were turning red without her noticing.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched by none other than Detective Mullens, Olivia, and Stanley Talker. Horrified, they withdrew. They had followed the fourth Powerpuff Girl, believing that she was a friend, but the opposite turned out to be true. Some of the cops she killed were corrupt, but not all of them.

Garrett Mullens was no stranger to black operations. The Townsville Police Department, both the just and corrupt halves of the law enforcement agency, had conducted a fair few all on their own. He knew right from the start what was going on. The USDO was behind this, and they had traced the same breadcrumbs to Feig as them. Unlike him, however, they wanted Feig dead, while Garrett planned to have him arrested, interrogated, and put away in a far-flung prison for the rest of his life.

While Bunny was mopping up the remainder of the prisoners, Detective Mullens led his crew back towards the lobby - it was the safest place he could think of, and there were people there who needed his help.

After gunning down the last of the prisoners, Bunny threw a look over her shoulder, sure that there was some movement behind her. Bringing up x-ray vision, she sighted a man and a woman in trenchcoats, and a K-9 unit dog retreating back towards the lobby. The lobby was still filled with living people, witnesses to the black operation in progress, making them liabilities to be eliminated.

She knew who her next targets were now.


	119. Chapter 112: Palace of Minos (Part 3)

**Chapter 112: Palace of Minos (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1854.**

After killing off the twenty or so police officers and prisoners on the ground level office, Bunny began hovering towards the lobby, where a few more cops and some unlucky civilians were holed up in. Some of the said civilians began running her way, unaware of her intentions, and Bunny dispatched them with pinpoint accuracy, putting bullets through their head as they were coming towards her.

"She's coming," Detective Mullens said to his daughter, Olivia. He could see the faint glow of purple-red down the corridor lit by the red glow of emergency lights. They hid on either side of the entrance leading into the lobby, guns drawn.

"Ri can rake her," Stanley Talker, the talking dog, decided as he hid beside Olivia, ready to pounce.

"Hold your horses," Mullens said. "She's dangerous. We can't afford to lose you."

"Yeah, I don't know about you, but I don't think we'll find another talking dog on this planet," Olivia added.

"Rhanks," the talking dog said.

"We'll do it smart," Detective Mullens said. He peeked around the corner. She was coming closer, about the pass the stairs leading up and down the building. "Olivia and I will lay down some covering fire. You'll blindside her while we're shooting. Aim for the neck. If she's anything like Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, she'll bleed like 'em and faint."

"Rokay! Ri'm ready!" Stanley Talker growled, getting into a ready-to-sprint stance.

Mullens held up two fingers while he was still peaking around the corner. The red-purple glow was getting closer, but Mullens wasn't sure why it wouldn't be right up next to him by now.

In the end, it didn't matter. All that mattered now was the fact that he and his family was still breathing, that the helpless civilians behind him were still alive. He counted down with his fingers. Two. One.

Leaning out, he began firing rounds at the red-purple eyes, and Olivia did the same. The talking dog sprinted in after that. The detective returned to cover mere milliseconds before bullets chipped at his corner wall.

"Olivia, stay in cover!" Mullens screamed in horror when he realized that Olivia was still leaning out and shooting, trying to empty her revolver and keep the talking dog covered. A bullet ripped through her shoulder before she could even process his instructions. Screaming, Olivia fell behind cover, clutching her shoulder. Blood spurted out from between her fingers.

At the same time, Stanley Talker lunged at the figure in purple - it was actually by his intervention that she could not fire as straight as she usually did since she had to switch gears because of a huge, speedy dog bounding after her.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1855.**

Bunny unloaded the rest of her MP5's magazine into the beast sprinting towards her, aiming for the dull brownish glow in the red-colored dark. Pretty soon, her submachinegun ran dry, but the beast continued coming towards her.

It was a German Shepherd of some kind, larger than the sort she had seen in the USDO HQ. It was armored, and it was angry. It leaped for her as she hovered in shock, tackling her to the ground. It had aimed for whatever exposed bit of flesh it could reach: her right hand and its teeth had sunk deep into her skin, spilling blood.

It was then that she understood that she was facing an enhanced being in the form of a dog. Pain erupted in her hand and the more she tried to shake the dog loose, the more it hurt. She screamed in both agony and fear, having never felt such raw and wild pain before, having never faced an animal in a frenzy of violence.

The enhanced German Shepherd growled wildly as it continued to apply more force on her hand as if trying to rip it to shreds. It shook its head and bit down with reckless abandon and Bunny could only scream and panic. With what little rationality she had left, Bunny fired a quick infrared beam at the dog, only to sear Kevlar.

As if reacting intelligently, the enhanced dog released her hand before pinning her right arm and head down with its paws, such that she could only stare to the side in horror as she felt hot breath down her neck. With her left hand, Bunny unsheathed the Duranium combat knife on her chest and plunged it into the dog - she didn't even see where she had stabbed.

The enhanced dog yowled in pain as it withdrew and limped quickly back from whence it came, tail tucked messily between its legs.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1856.**

It'd happened so quickly. At first, Detective Mullens thought that Stanley Talker had taken down the 'Anti-Powerpuff Girl', but that had only been half-true. She fought back, and now the talking dog had limped back to him. Staring into the distance, the detective could just about see, with his old eyes, that the destructive being had only been wounded, and was lying on the floor. He could hear her though, and she wasn't unconscious.

Good enough.

Mullens got Talker to lie down next to Olivia on his good side. Taking a knee beside them, with his ears still open for any change in the situation, he began stripping away the talking dog's Kevlar jacket. Blood was pouring, gushing like a river. The detective strained his eyes to see what the little monster had done to his canine partner.

There was a small slit. But it wasn't a slash wound. It was too short and too deep for that. It was a stab wound, and it had gone very deep, like Marianas Trench deep. Detective Mullens was not a veterinarian, but he could roughly estimate that the knife wound had gone through the canine analogue of the shoulder. Whether there were any internal injuries was another matter, one that would have to be unresolved in the time being for lack of skills.

Mullens could still hear her. The talking dog's assailant. Was she… crying? If it weren't for what she had done, Mullens would have felt sorry for the enhanced girl.

"Don't move," Mullens told both of his wounded companions.

"Not that I want to!" Olivia said through gritted teeth. Stanley Talker on the other hand seemed to have regressed, and he was whining throatily like a normal dog from the pain while Mullens pressed a torn strip of dark blue cloth he had salvaged from a dead cop into the wound to stem the bleeding. With that, Mullens picked up his Colt Python and leaned against the wall by the corridor where the enhanced girl was.

She was still crying, quite wretchedly too. He peeked around the corner. She had picked herself back up, got on her knees while leaning against the wall, all the while clutching the wrist of her injured hand.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1858.**

Bunny inspected her injured hand with gritted teeth. She couldn't help but to break out in tears because of how vicious and sudden the dog's attack was. The enhanced dog's teeth had penetrated her glove, now soaked red with blood. Unstrapping it, she pulled it off. A burst of pain accompanied the gesture.

The dog had bitten down on her hand so hard that there were half-ovals of teeth marks on both the back of her hand and her palm, and every teeth was represented by its own wound. At some places, the blood was thick and congealed, and at others, the skin was partially torn off. Almost all of them were deep, and it hurt to even move her fingers slightly.

Just then, she could hear footsteps coming down from the stairs next to her. She charged up her eyes even before the STARS team appeared as she retreated back towards the office. She fired heat beams haphazardly at them, managing to burn one of them in the chest. Bullets were flying, some of them hitting her. One of them had a grenade launcher, and the moment he raised it, Bunny raised her arm and formed a purple energy shield. A grenade detonated on her shield, sending her flying in the direction she was running. She was dashed against the wall, which cracked from the force.

Bunny's head was ringing from the explosion. The blast had deafened her, and the dust blinded her.

"She's over there, move, move, move!" she could barely hear a STARS officer shout even with her enhanced hearing focused. With her x-ray vision, she penetrated the dust and fire and saw where the STARS grenadier was. She charged her ocular beam up and sniped him out with a focused laser beam, putting a hole through the neck, which exploded in a gush of blood.

There had been four, now there were two. One of them dropped his SMG and unstrapped a Duranium anti-material rifle from his shoulder - Bunny could identify it from the shine - and trained it on her. They both fired it at the same time. Bunny had drilled into his heart with laser, but not before the STARS officer had fired his rifle. Bunny recoiled - she could feel what felt like a punch in her shoulder, and she knew it had been shot. The pain did not come immediately. Bunny charged up another laser beam.

The last STARS member panicked and ran screaming, so Bunny sliced him up in the back instead, severing spine and spilling open the bag that was his stomach. He fell down, grunting in pain. Walking up to him, Bunny observed the poor man trying to crawl away. He was indeed STARS, alright, with his heavily customized military uniform. His vest wasn't even police-issued, but self-bought and optimized to the point of being military-grade. Not that it mattered. Bunny stomped on his neck so hard that there was a loud, audible crack, and he was still after that.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1901.**

Mullens was relieved. He watched the enhanced being make its way towards the stairs, going up. It meant that he and his daughter and sapient dog weren't her main target, but it begged the question. What was her main purpose for being here? The USDO might have sent her, but what did the USDO want?

He returned his attention to his daughter and canine colleague. One of the women trapped in the lobby offered to help, introducing herself as a licensed paramedic.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1902.**

Bunny pushed on, despite her master hand being disabled. But it was more than that. Her joints were stiff and hurting again, and the chest pains were coming back. The moment she came up to the second floor, however, she wasn't given any respite. Shots were fired at her from either side, and she brought up a bubble of energy around her with her arms outstretched on instinct, which absorbed the bullets or deflected them.

She glimpsed SWAT cops on either side, trying to ambush her. But they were the least of her worries - and the worst threats the station could muster were already defeated. Pulling out Ace's sword, she jumped through a window in the corridor and brought up her cloaking field once more.

"She- she just- disappeared!" one of the SWAT officers exclaimed as he pointed his assault rifle here and there, trying to find her, but unable to believe what he had just witnessed.

Bunny sprinted towards the cops on the right, going through a detective's office and jumping through another window, dodging bullets from an opportunistic burst-fire from her targets. Her cloaking field dispersed only when she got up close and was about to swing Ace's sword one-handed.

Her first target could only gasp when Bunny sliced open his chest, the blade going through lungs and heart, instantly killing him. The SWAT officer next to her trained his gun upon her, but Bunny had already broken it in two with a single stroke before he could fire. Before he knew it, she had already skewered him through the lens of his gas mask. The SWAT officer jerked and convulsed as the sword went through his head before collapsing, lifeless.

Whirling around, she saw too late that an officer on the left had launched a teargas grenade at her. She was soon engulfed in gas, which stung her eyes and nose. She sprinted away, and soon the nasty sensation disappeared.

Taking the long route around the corridors, she encountered more SWAT officers taking positions in the alternate corridor. She was taking shots the moment she turned the corner, some of which had struck her in the face. Smashing through a door, she laid her sword down on the floor and pulled the LAW from her back, arming it. Leaning out from the door, she fired a rocket at the SWAT strong point, blowing them up and rocking the building. Picking up her sword again, she continued on without surveying her handiwork - the officers were little more than scattered body parts and blasted corpses burned and filled with holes, barely recognizable.

Bunny brought up her cloaking field one more time, ignoring the rising pain in her head and chest, before descending on the remaining SWAT officers from her alternate route. Leaping up into the air, she decloaked and brought her sword down on one of them, skewering him from the top, the sword plunging into his shoulder and through his left lung, killing him instantly.

The others turned to shoot. Sweating off the bullets, Bunny drew her sword across a SWAT's stomach, laughing, before bringing it around and hacking another into two across the waist. She launched herself shoulder-first into the last SWAT officer, ignoring the mounting pain, tackling him to the ground, before gripping the lower half of the sword with her injured hand and stabbing him in the face over and over, again, ignoring the pain she was inflicting on herself by this act. She had cut her own fingers on the sword when she gripped the lower half of its blade.

She didn't know when it started, but she had begun enjoying it despite the agony she was going through. When she had finally had her fill, she fell on all fours, and when the adrenaline wore off and the pain all over her body reasserted itself, she began coughing heavily, spattering blood all over the floor, adding even more to the pool of blood beneath her.

"Ow…" Bunny cried as she wiped her face instinctively. Looking at her hand, she saw more blood, perhaps even more than the last time. It was coming from her nose and eyes. She could feel more snaking out of her ears and down the sides of her neck. Pain shot up in her chest meanwhile, and even her head was getting in on the act as she felt a sharp pain, as if hot needles were being pushed through her eyes and deep into her brain.

And it wasn't going away as it should. She waited and waited, rolling off the body she was straddling to lie alongside those she had killed, hoping that she hadn't reached a terminal point where the pain would never leave.

She remembered her family then, how much she wished to return to the arms of her loving Dad, to the embrace of her loving parents, and even her sisters one day, when they would all forgive her.

No, she would not let the pain beat her down like this. Picking up her sword, she sheathed it once more, determined not to use it again - its weird effect on her was making her careless with both her safety and powers. With some difficulty, she got up with the help of a nearby wall. There was still a mission to accomplish.

"Bunny…" a voice called out to her, singing her name. Bunny turned around, surveying the devastation all around her. She was alone. But she knew who it was. The Red Man. He was rooting for her, him in his lonesome when her sisters refused to.

Feig. He must die. Starting forward, Bunny began making her way towards the stairs leading up to the third floor. She pulled her SMG out, reloaded it, and held it one-handed… and left-handed.

Her eyes stung, but she brought up her x-ray vision one more time, intensifying it to the point where she could see the entirety of the station. Looking all around her, she saw that there was still one group of police officers on the third floor. The second floor hosted another surviving group huddled in a corner she did not visit, and there were those two trenchcoat-wearing detectives and their dog. Two of them were hurt. Numerous civilians had stayed behind, and they were now under the protection of the detectives. These pockets of resistance would have to come later.

For now, she knew exactly where Feig was. She'd seen him briefly, hiding behind a wall, a door, and a group of officers. Her eyes hurt more after her use of x-ray vision. She had decided to use her powers only sparingly until after her sickness was better. Running to the back of the floor, she unpinned a flashbang, primed it, and threw it into the corridor where the cops were making a last stand. They shouted immediately, and Bunny could hear them scuttling for cover.

Leaning out of her cover, she began gunning down the stragglers. Some doors were open, and she'd heard some officers smashing them open and running through when she threw her flashbang. For each opened door, she primed a frag grenade and lobbed them in without a moment's thought. It was all good if the cops inside were killed, and if they weren't, she'll deal with them later after she was done with Feig.

Moving up to Feig's door, she kicked it open recklessly and unloaded her SMG into the room. She thought she heard a man whimpering in pain behind his desk. Feig. She knew that voice. He popped out of his desk after that, one hand clutching his chest and shooting a pistol with the other.

It was special this time. Feig was close, so close, and he was completely vulnerable. Helpless. Bunny allowed herself to hover and come towards him, ignoring the bullets bouncing off her face and armor.

The corrupt police chief backed away from her, his back meeting with the grilled window that was supposed to protect him, but now, ironically, had conspired with Bunny to kill him.

Bunny zipped up to him when she was halfway across the room, gripping him by his fleshy neck.

"You've been tricking my sisters!" Bunny screeched at the man venomously as she squeezed his neck. The hate in her voice was so strong that she scared even herself. "Hurting them!" Feig could only grab at her wrist helplessly. He felt himself being lifted off the ground, and the little flow of air he had left was cut off. He croaked for mercy, and he could barely make a sound.

But Bunny wasn't about to give him mercy. Obedience brings victory. Victory is life. Her life was her family. She squeezed Feig's neck further, cracking something inside. Feig spasmed in pain as he croaked helplessly. Bunny continued to squeeze, even using both her hands. She had to make sure. There was no room for error.

It was only when minutes passed that she let go. Feig's lifeless body fell in a heap.

Bunny could finally take a deep breath after that, as she sat down on the police chief's desk. The feeling of being free felt… priceless, second to none. She could already imagine floating into her sisters' arms, giggling and smiling with glee.

She pressed a button on her radio. "Mister Rook, it's Bunny. I did it. I killed him," Bunny said, all the while being lightheaded, but giddy with joy.

Bunny looked down at the corpse of Feig, which was when joy turned to terror. The corpse began convulsing as if having a seizure. The head shook from side to side so rapidly that it blurred. Like a broken toy, the corpse kicked and slammed its fists against the floor, and then it began changing, turning shorter, much thinner. Feminine. It was only when the change was over that the body stopped moving.

It was the same 'face-dancer' who had tricked Bunny in her attempt to arrest the wayward police chief, and now the face-dancer had tricked her into killing her - and over thirty other officers and prisoners in a precinct.

"Mister Rook!" Bunny exclaimed in alarm, tearing up. "It wasn't the chief at all! It wasn't him!"

"What do you mean? Over," Rook asked over the radio.

"He's changed into- into a woman! Again!" Bunny cried. It had all been for nothing - the dreaded killing, the pain, the suffering, her sickness, and her injuries.

"God damn it!" Rook shouted angrily over the radio. "Get out of there ASAP and return for debriefing, over."

"What about the other policemen and people in the station?" Bunny asked.

"Forget them! The mission is already a failure and other USDO elements not in the know are already responding to this incident. Leave the place and come back, over and out," Rook said before signing off.

If the concept of souls was real, Bunny might have lost hers at that moment. She had done everything that her sisters hated - that her Dad hated too - and it was all for nothing. Coming up to the grilled window, Bunny yanked the entire steel frame off, taking bits of the concrete wall with it.

She was depressed, and she couldn't care less that she smashed through the window to fly out. She cared even less that flying seemed to be exacerbating the pain in her joints, chest, and head. She wanted to just fly as far away from Precinct 77 as possible, never looking back.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Outskirts. En Route to Precinct 77.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1916.**

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had been called out to fight the Chechens while Bunny had left for another of her secret missions. It was easier than expected. Blossom had extended them a chance to surrender, and some of them took it. There was infighting among the Chechens as some of them disagreed with giving up, and the Powerpuff Girls ended protecting one faction from the other. Unlike the Russian Mob, however, the Chechens were ill-equipped to fight them, so they were taken down without too many problems.

After leaving the Chechens to the TPD, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were on their way home when they received a call from Detective Mullens to help with a serious incident at Precinct 77.

When they on the way to Precinct 77, they saw that there was some fire on one side of the building; it was hardly blazing, but it told them that it was serious. There were fire engines and ambulances at the entrance, but they were stuck as the precinct was sealed up tight. Up in the sky, they saw a purple streak flying away, and immediately, Blossom knew who was responsible for attacking the precinct.

Touching down at the entrance, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup met Detective Mullens at the front entrance of the police station. There was a security gate preventing him, the injured Olivia and Stanley, along with a group of civilians, from escaping the building. They had been trying to dismantle it for over ten minutes now but to no success. Together, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, however, managed to yank the gate off effortlessly and instantly, throwing it aside so that the civilians within could finally run out to the paramedics while firefighters could finally rush in to put out the flames.

Inside, Bubbles did what she could to help Olivia and Stanley Talker, assisting the paramedics attending to them the best way she could. Blossom surveyed the surroundings and spoke to Detective Mullens while Buttercup swept the area for any straggling enemies - though she quickly found that there was nothing for her to maim and kill. Bunny had acted alone, Blossom believed.

The modus operandi sure matched Bunny. Disemboweled cops and prisoners. Beheadings, severed limbs, and men who were chopped in half, or even worse, blown to bits.

"That was your younger sister?" Detective Mullens had said with disbelief when he found out. "If this 'Bunny' was your sister, then why would she help release arrested criminals, attack us, and kill everyone here? Even the average Joes and Jills who came here to report on crimes were gunned down like dogs…"

Blossom had no words for it, at least not immediately. The bad blood between her and Bunny was mainly caused by the latter's monopoly over Dad's attention, and only later by their differences. But this confirmed it. There was no denying it. Blossom had explored the station briefly, seen the mutilated bodies of cops and prisoners alike.

"Because she's evil," Blossom simply said. Looking past Detective Mullens as they were sitting down in the lobby, she saw Olivia and Stanley Talker. The former could barely sit while the latter couldn't even get up from the ground. Bunny had hurt her friends and killed the innocent when even criminals should be spared. None of these points were the last straw. The camel's back had been broken many times over, ever since the previous day.

Blossom grew afraid after that as she talked about how evil Bunny was. She had seen Bunny flying away on the way to Precinct 77. Now that she had gone beyond the threshold, what would she do once she reached home? She didn't even know why she had gone on a rampage. Had she succumbed to evil as Bubbles did?

"I gotta go! Bubbles, Buttercup!" Blossom bade Detective Mullens farewell hastily as she rushed out of the police station. Bubbles had objected to leaving so quickly only to fall on deaf ears, so she followed Blossom regardless. Buttercup simply had nothing else to do.

They flew back home at breakneck speed, coming closer than ever to the sound barrier. All kinds of possible scenarios came and went in Blossom's mind, and each time, she was afraid of what might happen to Dad and Mom, of whether she would see them again.

They had flown so fast that they were home within twenty minutes, with every minute of it unbearable to Blossom. But they were home. They were exhausted, but at least they'd made it. The House seemed fine, with the lights at the windows still on. No walls and windows were busted, and neither were there fires raging nor explosions going off. The security team outside were on alert but were otherwise fine.

Where was Bunny? She had left the police station just before they arrived, leaving them in the wake of her purple X-energy contrail, and Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had spent nearly half an hour at Precinct 77.

The very same purple X-energy contrail in the distance, coming from the skyline of Townsville, answered that question.

"Blossom, what's going on?" Bubbles asked, confused.

"Yeah, what gives? Why the sudden race?" Buttercup exclaimed irritably, talking for once.

"It's Bunny - she killed all those poor people in the station, and- and she hurt our friends- and she did all those other things!" Blossom struggled to explain now that time was of the essence. "The eyes! The red eyes! She's not right! She's evil!"

"You're perfectly right!" Buttercup agreed wholeheartedly, not because of all the things Bunny did, but simply because she didn't like her and wanted her out of the way.

Bubbles was silent. There was no way she could deny the charges Blossom had brought up. She had helped bandage Olivia and the talking dog herself personally, and she'd heard them loud and clear who had done it to them. She had overheard Blossom's conversation with Detective Mullens if that wasn't enough.

"We have to protect Dad… and Mom," Blossom said. "We can't let Bunny into The House."

"Now we're talking!" Buttercup exclaimed excitedly. She was dying for a rematch ever since that time when Bunny had defeated both her and Blossom both at the same time. "I can't wait to kick her teeth in!"

Bunny landed on the street soon after that, giving the Girls no time to prepare. She appeared to have cleaned herself up, but the scars on her armor, the blood still evident on it reminded Blossom of everything Bunny had done.

"Blossom- Bubbles- Buttercup!" Bunny uttered as she walked towards them, a tired smile on her face. "It's really nice to see the three of you…" None of the Girls liked the way she was smiling. It seemed wrong after everything she had done.

Blossom greeted Bunny by raising her compact pistol. Buttercup followed suit by raising the XM4 carbine she had brought along. Bubbles reluctantly did the same with her MP5. Bunny stopped, her smile disappearing.

"W-what's going on?" Bunny said, shrinking away from the guns pointed at her. Blossom found it insidious and dishonest, the way Bunny was trying to lie her way out of trouble. "Blossom! Why are you being so mean-"

"We know what you did!" Blossom interrupted quickly, having no more patience for this monster she called her sister.

"Yeah, you come any closer, and we'll beat you up to pulp!" Buttercup added.

Bubbles was silent, uncommitted. She still had her memories of a good Bunny, and it was paralyzing, how they clashed with what Bunny had become.

"You released the bad guys and killed policemen! You killed innocent people! Normal people who were just looking for help!" Blossom accused the youngest of the quartet.

"But- But they were bad!" Bunny tried to defend herself. "Bunny did good!"

"Are you stupid!? Bunny did bad!" Blossom yelled at the stalker of the dark. "You were supposed to beat up criminals, not the police!"

"But- but they were bad!" Bunny defended herself. "They wanted to get you in trouble! Mister Feig was working with the bad guys!"

Bubbles could not take it any longer; she had had enough.

"You HURT our FRIENDS!" she screamed at Bunny, and it was Bubbles that got her the most. Bunny had always thought that she was the infallible pillar that she could lean on. Now, it had fallen on her. Not even Bubbles could like her anymore. "I looked out for you! I played with you, and I talked to you! And you HURT our FRIENDS!" Bubbles was nearly hyperventilating, and shades of her BerXerker frenzy was showing - it would make sense, as the drug was still lingering in her blood. Bunny could have sworn that Bubbles' eye glow had changed slightly in color.

Buttercup merely smiled in triumph and sadism.

"Looks like not even sweet lil' Bubbles likes you, Bunny," she said meanly as she brandished her gun threateningly. "I would scram if I were you."

"Blossom! Please!" Bunny pleaded with Blossom, the thought of being kicked out of The House previously unthinkable, and how it was terrifying, more so than facing Mojo Jojo, or any of the enemies she had fought against so far. "Bubbles! I- I didn't mean to hurt your friends, I didn't even know that-"

"Liar! You're not a Powerpuff Girl. You'll never, ever be a Powerpuff Girl!" Blossom scolded Bunny.

"But- but Bunny do good!" Bunny repeated herself, regressed from the stress. She took steps forward again, desperate for a hug, determined to convince her sisters that she was right. She had only alarmed them. Blossom charged up a quick one and fired an infrared beam at Bunny's feet.

"Go away! Don't come any closer!" Blossom warned her. The noise of asphalt exploding had alerted security. Dad and Mom emerged from The House, wondering what was going on.

With shaking lips, Bunny could only look on in abject horror and depression, until finally, she couldn't hold herself back any longer. She bawled, unrestrained, uncontrolled - her dream of a happily-ever-after shattered. Turning around, she sprinted away before flying off into the night, her cries and wails fading away into the void.

Professor Utonium and Selicia were too late to stop it. By the time they shouted for her to come back, she was no longer within conventional earshot - and Bunny was accelerating close to the sound barrier, motivated by pain and sadness.

Where she would go, Blossom did not bother to even think about it. As far as she was concerned, she had no younger sister, and she had saved her family from certain doom.

Bunny could die and she couldn't care less.


	120. Chapter 113: Heart of the Labyrinth P1

**Chapter 113: Heart of the Labyrinth (Part 1)**

**Audio Sensor Recording 03091989-2004**

**DOC: 09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2004.**

**Extracted: 11 MAR (Saturday) 1989.**

The following is a recording of a conversation detected by a sensor embedded in the wall of The House, located in the living room.

Field Researcher Utonium: Why did you chase her off, Blossom!? She's your sister! Your YOUNGER sister! If there was something to argue about, couldn't you just get me!? I was right there in The House!

B-47 (Blossom): She's dangerous, Dad! I was trying to protect you!

Sergeant Selicia Goodwin: What do you mean, dangerous? I think I can say the same thing about you!

B-47 (Blossom): Mom! You don't understand!

Sergeant Selicia Goodwin: Don't you USE that tone on me, LITTLE lady!

Field Researcher Utonium: Selicia, we need to get to the bottom of this. (brief pause) What do you mean by dangerous?

B-47 (Blossom): She flew into a police station, started releasing the bad guys there and killing off the policemen!

B-48 (Buttercup): And they were all 'sploded and torn to little itty tiny bits and cut in half and-

Sergeant Selicia Goodwin: I think we get the picture, darling.

Field Researcher Utonium: Is it true, Bubbles?

B-47 (Blossom): (Whining) Dad!

(Silence)

B-49 (Bubbles): (Sadly) Yes… I saw it myself… Bunny hurt our friends too…

B-47 (Blossom): And they had really big boo-boos!

B-48 (Buttercup): Bunny must have shot them and used a big knife to stab them-

Field Researcher Utonium: Yeah, I get it, Buttercup, calm down.

B-47 (Blossom): She didn't just kill the policemen, Dad. She killed those… normal people too. The kind you find walking on the street? She just… killed everyone there.

Field Researcher Utonium: There's got to be a reason for this.

B-47 (Blossom): I think she's becoming evil Dad. I saw her eyes and they were like… Bubbles back when she had her drug problem…

B-49 (Bubbles): That's true too…

Field Researcher Utonium: Was she asked to kill everyone in the police station?

B-47 (Blossom): I don't know…

Sergeant Selicia Goodwin: The USDO wouldn't have done this. It has a public face now. It would be a PR nightmare! Won't Director Cliff face a backlash for this?

Field Researcher Utonium: I honestly won't put it past him, or General Blackwater.

B-47 (Blossom): But her eyes, Dad! Her eyes turned red! There's something wrong with Bunny!

Field Researcher Utonium: I know you've come to associate red eyes with bad things, Blossom, but you just don't know! You shouldn't have been so rash! She's still your younger sister! Haven't you learn anything yet!? How could you be so stupid!?

B-47 (Blossom): (in low volume, barely audible) I'm sorry… I just wanted to- (impossible to discern)

Field Researcher Utonium: Look, I'm sorry, Blossom dear, I was just mad. I didn't mean to yell at you. I know you thought that we're all in danger, but you shouldn't have acted before thinking things through first. (rips out tissue) Here. Hey, I'm sorry-

Sergeant Selicia Goodwin: Why are you even going easy on her! Blossom just caused a Run-Away event! And this is Bunny we're talking about!

Field Researcher Utonium: Kids are just kids… Nothing we can do but pick up the pieces. There's nothing they can do but learn.

Sergeant Selicia Goodwin: Well I'm going to have to call this in. You better hope nothing happens to Bunny, Blossom! Or there'll be something in store for you! That goes for you too, Bubbles!

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Coast. Devil's Reef.**

**09 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2015.**

When Bunny flew away, she just kept going without looking back, without regard for her own safety and health, or protocols and standard operating procedures. She accelerated and accelerated until she had unknowingly made a sonic boom and exceeded the speed of sound. She flew across Townsville, traveling the breadth of it until she had reached the coast, far from civilization, with even the Townsville Port dozens of miles up the coast.

Having exhausted herself beyond what she thought was possible, she let herself fall, braking only when she was close to the reef there before settling herself down, perching on the tallest rock formation there. There, she cried and cried the time away, the memory of her sisters' rejection, their anger, and hostility towards her stuck in her mind - she couldn't remember the better times even if she tried.

She felt it again, what felt like the sensation of hot needles pushing through her eyes and her brain, as if she was being lobotomized, what might as well be a heart attack and punctured lungs ravaging her chest. She curled up into a fetus on the reef, still weeping and crying, staining the lifeless rock with her blood as she retched and coughed and bled like an old woman, and finally vomited even more blood out.

And the pain didn't entirely leave her alone even after that, even if that's all she wanted right now - to be left alone.

All was lost. There was nothing for her now. Not even Dad and Mom. By now, they would surely have known that she had done a terrible deed. She knew how police officers were perceived - they were seen generally as heroes - more so by those who considered them friends. And she had killed or wounded so many of them.

Standing up unsteadily, Bunny stared at the moon, enjoying this beautiful, unreachable thing. Her flip-phone began ringing in her pocket. Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! It screamed as if a bystander trying to dissuade her from what she wanted to do next, crying and begging for her attention, but she ignored it.

She let herself fall forward, plunging head-first down into the reefs. She felt a heavy knock on the head, then the sensation of falling into what was like the biggest tub of water ever, before everything went dark.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Coast. Devil's Reef.**

**10 MAR (Friday) 1989. 0731.**

"Poor little Bunny, hated by those you love…" a singing voice whispered into Bunny's ear. "forsaken by those for whom you spent your all to save…"

"And now you just want to END IT ALL!? But no… it's not over. Not yet. Wake up. There might still be hope for you yet…"

The first thing that Bunny sensed wasn't visual. There was something soft, and her cheek was pressing against it. She opened her eyes to find that her left eye was buried in something. Sand. She got up, wiping the stuff away. She had never really seen it before, except in pictures. Water lapped at her from the waters of the shore. She had never really had a chance to get up close to the shoreline before.

She could feel something on her back. Looking up, she saw that Nana was half-kneeling next to her, stroking her back lovingly with pitying eyes. General Blackwater stood behind her, imposing, more so than the storm clouds.

Little raindrops fell from the sky, the prelude to spring. Bunny felt a few of them in her hand and face. Even spring, that mythical season that wasn't winter, felt unreachable.

"Bunny! You're awake!" Nana cried, pulling Bunny into an embrace. The enhanced girl was sopping wet. Miraculously, all her weapons were still with her, if waterlogged; they would have been easy to lose in the waters of the reef. "You're alright!"

Bunny felt like anything but alright. She was a wash-up, literally and figuratively. She didn't dare look up at the general again. She knew that she had erred, broken protocol, and leaving home without permission. She had been so broken then that she hadn't even thought about it, but a mistake was a mistake.

"How did you find me?" Bunny asked Nana. "I thought I would be alone here forever…"

"There's a GPS locator in your armor," General Blackwater replied for Nana. "We used it to track you. Darn thing broke last night though. Must be the water. But we combed the area and found you."

USDO soldiers were either patrolling or guarding the beach. The area was otherwise deserted. There would have been few beachgoers in the late winter morning anyway.

"I'm sorry…" Bunny mumbled, and when she remembered what happened yesterday, she couldn't help but cry again. "I- I'm so sorry… I just-"

"We know what happened yesterday, Bunny," Nana said. "That was mean of your sisters. Don't they know how lucky they are to have you? You poor, poor thing." Bunny sobbed in her arms, and Nana held her close, stroking the back of her head.

"Where will I go now? They don't want me around anymore…" Bunny said. Her joints ached. Her chest was still suffering from lingering pain, both of the dull and the sharper sort. Her sickness just wouldn't go away, and Bunny feared that it would never be gone.

"You'll be bunking in the USDO HQ until I sort this," General Blackwater growled, clearly angered by the turn of events. "I will get to the bottom of this, and when I do, I'm going to have a word with your sisters."

"Please don't-" Bunny murmured, weak and barely able to speak.

"What?" the general tried to clarify what she meant.

"I don't want them to be trouble…" Bunny said.

"Even after everything they put you through?" the general said, completely baffled by Bunny's devotion to her sisters, whom she had only essentially just met - two and a half weeks wasn't a long time.

Bunny fell silent. She couldn't justify what she said. She hadn't thought that far ahead. All she had was what she felt, and a dim sense of consequences and right and wrong, which was a miracle in and unto itself considering the scant few days she had to develop it. Bunny didn't think her sisters were wrong. She hated herself for killing all those people, for attacking their friends without knowing it. She just thought that it was preferable to losing her entire family. The enemies were at the gates - and she knew this not just because General Blackwater told her, but she felt that it was, what with Feig being so very close to the Girls, so very involved in their crime-fighting.

With that, Bunny was relieved of her weapons and heavy armor, which were piled into the arms of two privates. Corporal Nana Weston cradled Bunny lovingly in her arms as she carried her away, humming a lullaby to the injured and distressed Bunny. It almost seemed as if Nana was her mother, perhaps even more so than Selicia Goodwin herself - she had been so kind and sweet to her since the day they met, and she had never raised her voice nor her fist at her. It was so comforting that Bunny cried into her chest, and Nana held her tighter, rocking her like a baby.

Bunny would receive medical attention at HQ, before being fed and watered and put to bed. She was so exhausted that she slept through much of the day, and spent the rest of it either in a daze or in tears.

The pain never left. It was now a lingering presence, like a predator stalking in the bushes, waiting to pounce on her again. It had already done so a couple of times since her return to HQ. Her joints, the sides of her neck, her chest, and her head were the biggest culprits in causing her physical suffering, but they had nothing on the gaping hole in her heart, inflicted by the very people she was closest to.

Still, despite her ailing health, her wounds had disappeared by noon - they were already halfway there when they found her, despite the mistreatment of the wounds by the elements.

One thing that sailed over the heads of everyone, including Bunny herself, however, was that it had taken far too long to heal. Twelve hours would have been excessive for a deep and wide surgical wound. Sixteen hours for her bite marks and bullet holes was a crawl in comparison.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO Headquarters.**

**10 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1551.**

Once upon a time, what felt like a world away, her bunk in the USDO Headquarters was like a prison cell despite the lack of bars. Now, removed from the wasteland that was The House, it provided her with a modicum of comfort. There was at least no arguments, no strife or sibling rivalry and violence. Not that she could enjoy it.

She'd tried, at least. Sitting at her little desk and leaning on the tabletop, she tried her best to read a book she had taken from the complex's lounge, where there was a tiny library for the children of guests, employees, and USDO operatives. It was one of several that formed a mountain beside her, but she couldn't even get past the first page of the first book even though it was a story familiar to her: The Ugly Duckling. Instead, all she could do was to stare at the picture on the introductory page: the titular Ugly Duckling, that gray-purple little thing that no one wanted, not the mother duck, and certainly not the three ducklings swimming behind her.

Then it happened again. What felt like a bullet to the heart. Bunny clutched her chest. It was worse this time. She slammed her fist against the desk and shouted wordlessly, not just in pain, but in anger and a sense of injustice. As if being ostracized by her own family and failing several missions wasn't enough! Struggling to her feet as she gasped for air, she kicked her chair back, picked up the book, and flung it across the room with a frustrated screech.

There was a knock on the door but she didn't hear it. She was too busy sweeping the other children's books off her desk. The door opened and this time she heard it. Turning around, she realized too late that she had been throwing a tantrum right in front of General Blackwater. She felt his eyes focusing on the hand she had placed on her chest. She promptly put it away, folding it behind her back. She straightened herself out and tried her best not to show any signs of pain, but it was hard.

"Recovering quickly, I see," the general said, and he didn't seem offended or perturbed by how Bunny had been thrashing the children's books.

Bunny was too afraid to even stand in ceremony, too in tears to observe it. She rubbed her hands nervously in anticipation of a tongue-lashing, but it didn't come.

"Sit down, Bunny," the general ordered. She promptly did. The huge man took his place on Bunny's bed, which creaked almost as painfully as Bunny's frame. "How are you? Are you feeling any pain anywhere?"

Bunny was shocked. Had General Blackwater found out? She tried her best not to show any emotions, and she thought she had it.

"No. I'm feeling a lot better…" she lied. It wasn't just about driving Dad to the point of depression and suicide anymore, or at least that was the impression. She didn't want to lose the opportunity to regain her sisters' trust.

"Are you sure? Because I have something else for you. Yesterday was a mess, but I think we've found him. It's easier now that the cultist agent disguising as him was killed, thanks to you," the general said, praising Bunny and making it as glorifying as he could. He knew that Bunny was in low spirits. It didn't have the intended effect, however, as Bunny still appeared depressed. "I want you to finish what you've started. Are you up to it? Because if you're not ready to return to service, we can always send in the next best thing. Not your sisters, of course, as they would be too emotionally involved - you know how they're like - but a crack team of soldiers will do the trick. I'm sure Boomer would love to get back into the field with an important mission like this."

Bunny did not answer immediately. Her eyes wandered to the floor, where her confidence seemed to be. She had failed too many times, in her view; she saw the general's reassurances of the latter as attempts to make her feel better. What if she failed again?

"The reason why I want you to take up this mission is that it means something to you. Remember that, Bunny," the general added, and he seemed to know her better than herself. "Take Feig out, and you'll save your sisters, and by extension, your family. He's planning something, I know it. We're still trying to figure out his plans, but I don't think he wants your sisters to live."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**10 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1724.**

And that was the story of how Bunny found herself speeding towards Steele's Stellar Steel on her bike. Unknowingly, she was heading towards where all the recent troubles of Townsville began, where her sisters fought the first of countless battles against crime. Apparently, this was where Chief of Intelligence Rook's agents had traced Police Chief Feig to. No one knew why he had chosen the steelworks as his hideout; perhaps he thought that he would never be found in a place where the Powerpuff Girls had once crashed into.

Dismounting from her bike a distance down the road, Bunny began pulling excess weapons off her vehicle. A China Lake grenade launcher and a belt of ammunition for it, which she slung on her shoulder, more claymore traps and… she hesitated as she reached for Ace's sword. That weapon was deadly in her hands, but there was something off about it. Bunny couldn't quite put her finger on it, but every time she used it, she would go berserk, dropping her guard. Even if it provided her with such a boost, it went against everything she had been taught, and she had paid the price for it multiple times.

It seemed to whisper to her, promising her victory in honeyed words. Yes, she needed it, so much. Yes, she couldn't afford to fail. She took the sword, regretting it the instant she did.

It was growing dark, one of the few dark winter nights left on the year's calendar. Bunny hovered up onto the roof of a factory opposite the steelworks. Putting on her night vision goggles, she zoomed her vision in. The outside was deserted. There were no conspicuous guards. She thought it was to be expected from someone who was hiding.

Looking through the walls of the steelwork, however, the deserted outside was proven to be deceptive, and Rook's intel correct. One of Rook's informers in the TPD had reported on the ties Feig had with the Cult of His Promise. They had been protecting him all along, them and pretty much every other criminal elements in the city. The face-dancer's involvement was proof enough. How Feig had come to be such an important figure in the criminal underground, no one knew. Nor did Bunny care, as long as he would soon turn to grass.

There was a hole in the corrugated zinc roof, the same one made by Blossom and Buttercup to let Bubbles through. It was too obvious an entrance, one that she would not be caught using.

The steelworks had a number of chimneys rising into the darkening sky. Those seemed more promising. Taking one last look at the entire industrial facility, she saw that no one was looking, and so she flew to her selected chimney.

The entrance was tight, but it was something that even an adult could squeeze through. Gently lowering herself in, she hovered downwards, descending towards the dim, gray light at the end of the tunnel, all the while using her x-ray vision to watch the cultic guards around the area. There weren't many of them, perhaps eight or so, all armed with light weapons like pistols, revolvers, and shotguns, and some not even that - some were armed with machetes or swords, but their iridescent glow made it clear how dangerous those things were to her.

Far into the distance, in an office high up and accessible by elevated walkways, she could make out the shape of Feig. Just seeing him sitting in there and enjoying a smoke while talking to another cultist made her blood boil. Feig MUST die.

As she got close to the opening in the chimney, she saw her first target: a cultist on the patrol who was passing through with a shotgun in his hands. He wore the striking red cloak of the cult.

Bunny landed at the base of the chimney, which wasn't enclosed at all. She had ended up in a basin for molten steel. Hovering out of it, she touched down on the walkway, behind the cultist, and began trailing him, coming closer and closer. Pulling out a garrote wire from a pouch, she jumped on the cultist's back and wrapped it around his neck, giving it a pull so strong the wire had cut through skin, flesh, windpipe, and esophagus to the spine.

The cultist couldn't even make a sound. Bunny hovered and took the corpse along with her, flying it into the molten steel basin she had landed moments earlier, hiding it.

When that was done, she brought up her cloaking field, and sneaked towards her next target…


	121. Chapter 114: Heart of the Labyrinth P2

**Chapter 114: Heart of the Labyrinth (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**10 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1737.**

Bunny jogged silently towards the next closest cultist, who was walking towards her, cultic sword in hand, unaware of her presence due to her cloaking field. Drawing her Duranium knife, Bunny sneaked up to him. The first thing she noticed about the cultist was his red, glowing eyes, framed by bulging nests of hair and prodigious beard.

She thought she should have seen it coming when it happened. The cultist had countered her ambush with a trap of his own in the end, swinging his sword at her as she approached under what turned out to be the false security of her cloaking field. Somehow, the cultist was able to see her!

The sword had scratched her armor, almost breaching it, unable to do so likely because the cultist wasn't strong enough.

"Shadowkin betrayer!" the bearded cultist shouted as loud as he could, too loud to Bunny - she knew then that she had been revealed to the rest of the factory. "Kill me if you can!"

The cultist began swinging his sword at her in rapid succession, and Bunny dropped her energy-consuming cloaking field while she was backing away. She drew her pistol and was able to get off a couple of shots before it was damaged and knocked off her hand with a stroke of the sword. Her shots had gone through the cultist's thighs, dropping him to a knee as he grunted in pain.

Bunny proceeded to run him through with her knife, drawing a deep crevice in his head before he fell dead.

But she was exposed. Soon, shots were fired from the catwalks above, and when she brought up her x-ray vision, she saw more cultists coming towards her on the ground floor. Feig and his cultist companion got up, likely alarmed by the gunshots. Time was short. Bunny could feel it in her fraying veins.

Running up to the storage area of the factory, she began setting up claymore tripwires in the dark even as she endured pistol shots, shotgun pellets, and esoteric insults raining down from the catwalks above. The factory was a sad, poorly-lit area, so she wasn't hit too often and her traps stayed hidden.

She retreated behind a smelting chamber and unslung her China Lake grenade launcher before loading it up with grenades and pumping it. Focusing on her sense of hearing, she could hear not two, but three sets of footsteps on grated catwalks up above. As claymores were being set off on the steelworks storage area, Bunny leaned out and fired off a round, blowing up one of the cultists on the catwalk. Body parts and blood and bits of burning, charred red cloth rained down from above. Pumping the grenade launcher, she fired off a second grenade, missing her second target by yards, but the grenade had blown up the catwalk and destabilized it, causing the cultist to drop feet-first down to the ground. Through her enhanced hearing, she heard numerous bones breaking from the fall and a drawn-out scream.

There was still a third cultist on the catwalk, and she could hear from the rapid footsteps that were slowly diminishing that he was retreating, something Bunny couldn't allow, so she fired her final grenade, which exploded at the feet of the cultist, mangling legs and obliterating anything below the waist. Bunny stared at the last cultist of the catwalks, zooming in. There was twisted bone and bloody strips of flesh and cloth still hanging on stubbornly, but what was most important was that the somewhat pristine upper-half wasn't moving.

The cultist guards were all dead, all dispatched by fire and explosive force. It was too easy, Bunny felt, way too easy.

And she was right. She could hear someone sprinting up behind her, and when she turned around, she saw that she was too late to react even by her enhanced human standards. It was Leopold Sutton, the cult leader of the Cult of His Promise - how he had gone from talking to Feig to appearing behind her was a potentially fatal mystery, as he brought a Duranium machete down on her.

Bunny flinched, and the machete was embedded in her shoulder. It had gone through the thick Kevlar to nick her bare skin underneath, but it wasn't serious. Knocking Sutton's arm away with her grenade launcher, she kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying back. Slotting a grenade into her launcher at blinding speed, she trained it on Sutton, pumped it, and fired while the cult leader was getting up, his eyes glowing red in the thick of battle.

She fired, but the cult leader dodged the grenade somehow, ducking with insane speed. He wasn't normal, but how could that be? Bunny fumbled with her launcher after that, trying to reload, but it was too late when Sutton sprinted up to her and tackled her, smashing her into the side of the smelting chamber she was hiding behind. While she was stunned, he ripped the China Lake grenade launcher from her hands and tossed it far into the darkness, beyond the dim light.

Surprisingly, he backed away after that.

"You go against the Master's wishes?" the cult leader said. "Even when he decided to visit you out of generosity?"

"What are you talking about?" Bunny groaned, clutching her side. Her illness was flaring up again. She could feel her chest burning. No, not now! Bunny thought desperately. It was as if her heart and lungs were getting punctured by pencils.

"Do you not know? The Master has use for you, and his rewards for your service would be great," Leopold Sutton offered. "Reunion with your family, for one. It's something you want very much, am I right?"

It was a tempting offer, something Bunny could easily take in a heartbeat. She was ready to give her life if only to gain even a minute of her sisters' affections, a minute of normalcy in blissful family life.

As she thought about it, she saw a familiar figure making a run for it. Paul Feig was slinking in the shadows towards the exit, forcing her to choose.

And Bunny chose to draw her Duranium combat knife. She thrust it at Sutton from her half-kneeling position, only for Sutton to knock it away with his machete and punch her in the side of her head, worsening the migraine headache she was already suffering from. She sunk to the ground, and for a moment, there was nothing but pain.

Once again, Sutton backed away, as if giving her a chance to strike back. Bunny's vision was blurred as she was lying on the ground, coughing up blood. But she could see Feig getting away when she focused on him, inching closer and closer towards the open door, thinking that he was undetected.

No, she couldn't let him get away again! Bunny drew Ace's sword aggressively, gritting her teeth as she forced herself up, her hands shaking from the pain in her joints and chest. But the sword gave her strength. As if cheering her on, as if drawing power from her, it glowed red with evil intent. Without knowing it, Bunny's eyes had grown bright red to match Sutton's.

"Yes! Yes, taste the Master's power! Let it tempt you!" the cult leader encouraged the enhanced girl. Then, he bolted forward, machete poised to strike her. "Take it or I will take you!"

Bunny blocked the machete blow aimed at her with the blunt edge of Ace's sword. She pushed the cult leader back with her shoulder, who swiped at her with his machete to discourage her from counter-attacking while he stumbled and tried to find his balance again.

"You're still holding back…" Sutton said, grinning. Looking behind him, Bunny saw Feig - he was halfway to the exit. "EMBRACE! HIS! GIFT!" The cult leader charged once more, opening himself up as he threw himself at Bunny without regard for his own life.

Bunny obliged, thrusting her sword into his throat with both her hands. The blade went through the cult leader's throat and out the back of his neck. It didn't take much force, and Leopold Sutton had done half the work. Blood spilled from his mouth when the death blow was struck. But there was no grimace on his face. Instead, he was grinning, showing his reddened teeth. Despite everything she had done, Bunny was shocked at the sight. It was all wrong. And as if that wasn't enough, the cult leader continued forward, pressing himself against Bunny's sword, allowing the blade to slide through his throat even further.

"Em…brace… Him…" the cult leader managed to force a few more words through before Bunny pulled her blade back, wide-eyed with shock. The man fell to his knees, a grin still plastered on his face.

Bunny shifted her attention to Feig, who was close to the door. Alarmed, she blasted off from where she was, breaking the sound barrier instantly, shattering glass all around the factory, and landing right in front of Feig before he could leave through the exit and disappear into the darkness.

She stood before him, this trenchcoat-wearing rat, the enhanced girl's eyes glowing blood red, glaring, brandishing the evil sword she had stolen from a green-skinned street samurai.

"You persistent little shit!" Feig cussed as he raised his revolver, only for Bunny to deliver a quick slice to his hand, and he was forced to drop the weapon. He screamed as he held his hand, which bled freely. Examining it, he saw that he was lucky, as there was 'only' a deep cut in the back of his hand, exposing his two of his metacarpal bones to the cold air. Bunny launched into a jump-kick, knocking the corrupt police chief to the ground.

"Wait!" the police chief begged as he tried to get away from Bunny, crawling on his back. "Just wait, please!" he pleaded once again, putting up a hand, which Bunny promptly sliced with her sword as well, this time cutting through the skin and flesh between his ring and middle finger, splitting that hand halfway down to the wrist. The police chief gave an almost effeminate bloodcurdling scream when he saw what Bunny had done to his left hand.

"You tricked my sisters! You hurt them!" Bunny snarled at the chief.

"I was just doing my job!" Feig claimed. "I was just working together with- with Blossom and your others sisters-"

"Liar!" Bunny screeched hatefully before plunging the tip of her sword into Feig's shoulder, who screamed. "Liar! Liar! LIAR!"

"I'm a police chief!" Feig cried as he gripped the blade that was somewhat buried in him. "I answer personally to the commissioner! You can't kill me! They'll get you for this. You're going to fucking burn for this! You'll-"

Bunny withdrew her blade, slicing the palm of Feig's already injured right hand, causing him to scream mid-sentence. Wordlessly, she raised her sword to deliver a death stroke-

But before she could do that, three familiar faces flew through the windows above and landed loudly around Feig, pink, baby blue, and lime green streaks following them. It caught Bunny off-guard, confusing her. How? How was it possible? Before she could even react to what was going on, Blossom came flying forward, delivering a kick to Bunny in the chest, flooring her, causing her to slide on the concrete floor a fair distance away.

Bunny got up quickly, her confusion and shock masking the pain she felt from Blossom's blow, all to face a very angry Blossom, her eyes shining bright pink in the dim light. Not too far away, she could see the glow of Bubbles' bright blue and Buttercup's intimidating green.

"B-Blossom? Why are you helping him!?" Bunny yelled, frustrated at how she had come so close to killing Feig, only to be torn away from the opportunity. Immediately, she regretted it all - taking the sword, falling victim to both its influence and her desire to see Feig suffer, and finally, this: the fact that she had to face the hostile Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, as opposed to after she had cleared her name.

"And WHY are you HURTING him!?" Blossom counter-questioned, hands akimbo.

"He's bad! He's been lying to you! He wants to kill you!" Bunny spilled it all out desperately in a pleading tone. "He's been doing things while you're not looking!"

"He's a policeman, stupid!" Blossom yelled at Bunny. "Police officers are good, and criminals are bad! Not the other way around! How hard is it for you to understand!?"

"But he's not good!" Bunny yelled back, driven nearly to tears by how she was misunderstood, again. "He's not!"

"I'm taking you back to Dad," Blossom said authoritatively. "I'm taking you back, and Dad's going to take away your powers. He said he would." Blossom's frown turned into a smile all of a sudden. "You know, he doesn't love you anymore."

What Blossom said at the end was like a dagger in Bunny's heart. It couldn't be true, could it? Blossom had to be lying, she must be lying!

Blossom simply gloated. She grinned at how Bunny looked like she had been punched in the guts - all because of what she said. She could barely stifle the urge to laugh. But duty and crime-fighting came first.

"Buttercup, take Mister Feig away to the nearest police station," Blossom ordered. She couldn't bring herself to trust Buttercup in what would come next.

"Aw man, do I have to?" Buttercup whined. "Can't Bubbles do that? She knows first-aid and all that and I wanna-"

"Just do what I tell you, Buttercup!" Blossom cut her off vehemently before turning to Bubbles. "Bubbles, help me fly Bunny back home." Blossom started forward, about to grab Bunny. Bubbles followed. Bunny looked to the sweetest of the quartet for sympathy, but she found nothing in her eyes, only resentment and anger and disappointment staring back at her.

Buttercup, in the meantime, approached Mister Feig.

"Oh, bless you, bless you all, thank God for you, thank God for the Powerpuff Girls!" the police chief was all praises.

"C'mon, fatso, just flip on your belly and I'll carry you to your stupid friends," Buttercup grumbled brusquely. Police Chief Feig did as he was told without complaint, glad to be out of here. Soon, Buttercup latched onto the injured police officer's back and lifted off, hovering with the huge human cargo in tow.

Everything was crumbling all around Bunny. She had failed once again to kill Feig. She had failed another mission. Her sisters hated her more, and even Dad hated her now. It was all for nothing, and her chest, her head, her joints, and her neck was hurting even more. Blossom was yelling in her face to drop her sword, but all she could focus on was Buttercup, and how she was about to fly off with her mark. Her target. Her objective, salvation, and hope for a better future.

"No,"

Bunny fired an infrared beam at Buttercup, burning her in the back, forcing her to drop Feig.

On realizing, with horror, that Bunny would not back down without a fight, Blossom tackled Bunny to the ground, pressing her cheek down on the concrete so that she couldn't aim her ocular beams at anyone. Bunny kneed Blossom in the bum, throwing her leader sister off her, before getting up and firing a laser beam at Feig - only for Bubbles to stand in her line of sight and block the laser beam with her baby blue energy shield.

"Get out of the way, Bubbles! Please!" Bunny begged her favorite sister. "He's a bad man!"

"No, you're bad! You're trying to kill him!" Bubbles retorted, keeping her energy shield up. Bunny tried to flank her, but Bubbles would shadow her movement and prevent her from going past her. "You shot Buttercup!"

This gave Blossom time to get up behind Bunny and seize her by the sword arm. Blossom tried to restrain her, only for Bunny to give Blossom a horse kick and break away, but Blossom was unrelenting - she tackled Bunny once more, pinning Bunny's arms to the ground.

"Bubbles! Hide Mister Feig and come back later!" Blossom ordered, before taking two legs to the chest. Evidently, Blossom had lost confidence in her ability to subdue her alone.

Just then, Buttercup had woken up from being stunned by Bunny's heat beam and was soon back in the fray.

"Give up, Bunny!" Blossom said to the youngest of the quartet. "You can't beat the three of us."

Bunny squeezed her eyes shut briefly, taking it all in, before opening them again. A hard decision had to be made.

"I'll kill you two to save Bubbles if I have to," Bunny said, much to the shock of Blossom and even Buttercup. Having to fight her sisters had weathered her away both physically and mentally. Her sword had told her what to say, and she couldn't help but to agree with it - in battle, losses were acceptable, and compromises had to be made.

"Fire!" Blossom ordered Buttercup; both of them unleashed their respective ocular beams upon her, but Bunny blocked them both with her own bright purple energy shield.

Bunny surged forward, swinging her sword at Blossom, who blocked it with her pink energy shield, but the blows wore Blossom out - they were powerful, and Ace's sword was Duranium. Buttercup flanked Bunny brandishing fists, but she was slashed in the forearm for her aggression before she backed away.

Bunny continued to pummel at Blossom with her sword until Blossom's shield gave way, and she was able to split the kevlar on Blossom's forearm with the remaining force - though the blade did not bite flesh. Pulling out her combat knife to dual-wield, Bunny began spinning, as if dancing, and delivering crushing, unpredictable blows at Blossom, who could only back away and sustain another slice to her armor - this time to the chest, which was another close call. Another half an inch further and she would have injured her.

Buttercup started forward once more, launching into a flurry of punches, which Bunny was able to block and hold off with her sword, arm, and energy shield. Bunny gave Buttercup a side kick, but Buttercup had ducked and swept her off her feet, ruining her stance and position.

Blossom took advantage of this by firing an opportunistic infrared beam, burning Bunny in the chest while she was distracted. Blossom's opportunity did not last long, however, when Bunny rolled on the ground and got up, before retreating deeper into the factory. She had brought up her cloaking field, making her invisible as she ran away.

Bubbles had returned too late to join the fight.

"Where did you hide Mister Feig, Bubbles?" Blossom asked her sweetest sister in a hushed whisper without taking her eyes off the general area, still trying to spot Bunny.

"In a small room full of tables and inside a locker," Bubbles said. "I didn't know he could fit in such a small space…"

"Keep it down, Bubbles!" Buttercup chided in angry whispers as she, too, was looking for Bunny. "She might hear you!"

Together, they hovered towards the center of the factory, looking for any signs of Bunny's presence. Blossom was actively zooming in her vision. She had seen Bunny turn invisible before. She knew, sort of, how it looked like. Slight distortions and moving objects - that was the key.

But there was something else. Blossom could just about hear the sound of shifting air even without Buttercup's enhanced sense of hearing. Sure enough, a box of iron ingots fell off a shelf, and Blossom fired an infrared beam in that direction, hitting Bunny - she knew because Bunny's cloaking field was disrupted. Bubbles and Buttercup began firing their shotgun and machinegun at Bunny, who was forced to retreat and turn invisible once more.

"Come out, Bunny!" Blossom yelled into the darkness. "You can't win! Bad guys and bad girls don't win!"

"I tried everything to be good, but it's not enough," Bunny's voice rang out from the darkness, and the Powerpuff Girls couldn't quite pin down where the voice came from. Buttercup charged up a quick laser beam and fired in the general direction of the voice, but she wasn't as successful as Blossom, hitting only concrete.

"It's NEVER good enough!" Bunny raged again in the dark. There was the sound of tools falling from shelves. Blossom unloaded her XM4 Carbine at the next place the voice sounded out from, but she had hit nothing, as far as she knew. There was one thing she knew, however. Bunny was getting closer and closer, circling in the dark.

"All I ever wanted was a family, and all I did was to try to protect it!" Bunny lamented again in the dark. Something cardboard fell in the distance. Bubbles charged up an ion beam… but on second thought, shut her eyes and refused to shoot. What Bunny had said gave her food for thought, it'd reminded her of Bunny's motivations, of how she wasn't totally in the wrong. She couldn't be. Blossom and Buttercup were less discerning, and they each tried to bring down Bunny with ocular beams, but they were piercing nothing but darkness, damaging nothing but the factory and their ego.

"So why don't you come out? We can try and be a family!" Buttercup offered, but she wasn't even hiding the fact that it was a ploy to trick her. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"Yeah! If you wanna be a Powerpuff Girl, stop hiding and fight properly!" Blossom added. "I'll let you try to be a Powerpuff Girl!"

"You were never nice to me, Buttercup…" Bunny's voice seemed softer now, despite seeming to come from somewhere closer. It was making the Girls anxious. "And neither were you, Blossom…"

The threat in Bunny's tone had rattled the Girls. Blossom was frantically looking left and right in search of Bunny, but any sign of her presence had largely disappeared. She could be waiting somewhere, or she could be striking them at any moment now.

"Bubbles, go left, Buttercup go right," Blossom whispered to her sisters her standard orders - she didn't know any better. Blossom went straight into the dark after that, before Bubbles and Buttercup went with her orders blindly, in a forking maneuver learned by rote and practiced out of habit.

BOOM! An explosion that rocked the building was the immediate result. Blossom put out her arms above her as massive shelves fell on top of her. She tossed them backward with a grunt. Looking to her left, she saw that Bubbles was blown backward by the explosion, landing among fallen shelves, having activated a claymore tripwire. She wasn't moving after that.

At the same time, something flew through the air and Buttercup screamed. Blossom looked to her right to see that Buttercup was stabbed in the chest - the weapon, likely Duranium, was still stuck in her chest, deep in it. Buttercup fell back and leaned on a shelf, incapacitated.

"BUNNY!" Blossom screamed in rage and frustration - she was still nowhere to be found. "WHERE ARE YOU!?" She hovered upwards; she no longer cared as much about being exposed. That was when she felt it. Another slight gust of air coming from above.

Blossom had looked up too late and by the time she did, Bunny was descending down on her, her sword slicing into her shoulder, drawing blood. Blossom crashed to the ground, and Bunny was following her, sword still embedded in her shoulder. Shrinking downwards and away, Blossom was able to extricate herself from that. Backing away, she clutched her shoulder and stared at the being that used to be her younger sister, red eyes now staring back at her.

"You were MEAN to me! JEALOUS of me!" Bunny cried as she took steps towards Blossom, who backed away, afraid. "When I would HURT myself every night fighting to save you!" She rushed forward, swinging her sword in hazardously at Blossom, anger and betrayal incarnate. Blossom could only back away further and duck from higher blows as she clutched her shoulder, still in too much pain to fight properly. The leader sister flew backward to retreat further, knocking down shelves like dominoes, inadvertently trapping Buttercup just when she was about to try and contribute to the fight despite the knife in her chest.

Bunny fired an infrared beam at Blossom, forcing her to bring up her energy shield - it was a continuous beam, so Blossom was stuck on the defensive. The collision between purple and pink energy blinded Blossom, and by the time Bunny's infrared beam stopped, she had already leaped at Blossom, aiming another overhead strike at her. Blossom threw up her arms and formed another shield - a fetus of a shield - but it wasn't enough. The Duranium blade broke through both energy and Kevlar, putting cuts in both of Blossom's arms as she tumbled to the ground, writhing in pain.

But Blossom knew that there was no time for self-pity. Bearing the pain with gritted teeth, she got up as fast as she could, to be met with a sight of a Bunny on a warpath, already marching up to her. Tired and in pain, Blossom pulled out her pistol and fired 9mm rounds at Bunny, who blocked the desperate shots by forming purple shields one-handed.

She had fired in 3-round bursts, but each burst was blocked seemingly effortlessly, either stopping the bullets totally or deflecting them. Bunny came up next to Blossom, who proceeded to seize her by the neck, lifting her up before slamming her down on some fallen shelves, bending metal shelving.

Although nothing was broken, it felt like something did. Blossom lay where she was, groaning, bleeding, her red bow bent and dirty and burnt slightly from Bunny's infrared beam.

Bunny stood over her, watching her with uncaring eyes. The last thing Blossom saw was Bunny's eyes glowing brighter before unleashing a pair of purple infrared beams…


	122. Chapter 115: Heart of the Labyrinth P3

**Chapter 115: Heart of the Labyrinth (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**07 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1941.**

An infrared beam colored by pink traces of X-energy scorched a snowman in the middle snowball, melting a cave into it. However, it did not do too much damage.

"And that's how you knock someone out, instead of burning her to death," Blossom said triumphantly, her arms akimbo like the heroine she was, feeling proud that she had done so well in her non-combat demonstration of a non-lethal stunning heat beam.

"Is this how you save your targets for torture and interrogation later?" Bunny questioned. Her birthday crown was still strapped to her head, something which Blossom had been trying hard to ignore because she never had it in any of her monthly birthday parties.

"Bunny, no!" Blossom retorted, distressed. "The point of knocking someone out is to not kill her!"

"Oh…" Bunny moaned as she had answered wrongly. She thought she was up to speed in her strategy and tactics.

"Why don't you try it?" Blossom offered, realizing that Bunny was a little upset at being wrong. Pulling her along gently, Blossom positioned Bunny on a shooting line she had scrapped out on the snow with her mary-jane before the demonstration. She padded to the snowman she had 'stunned' in the demonstration.

"Don't burn the snowman yet!" Blossom yelled back to Bunny as she scooped up a huge mound of snow with her hands and used it to patch up the injured chest of the snowman. When she was done, she retreated behind Bunny.

"Okay, now heat up your eyes and let the heat stay there," Blossom instructed. "Narrow your eyes a little… Good." Bunny's eyes glowed purple brightly. "Now think about not hurting the person instead of harming her. Just think about not killing the person you're looking at. Are you doing that?"

"It's hard, but yes," Bunny opened up liberally. She felt so much at ease around Blossom now, despite their rough and unsettled relationship as sisters. Blossom couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Bunny. How hard can it be NOT to kill someone?

"Good, I guess… Now make sure you hold back the hotness around your eyes, don't let too much go now. Can you do that?" Blossom instructed. Bunny nodded. Her eyes had been steadily increasing in piercing brightness as she had been storing so much energy in her eyes. It was a little painful, and Bunny couldn't help but to tear up a little. The tears were boiled instantly, floating away from her eyes as little trails of mist. "Okay, now shoot!"

And Bunny did. The powerful beam, however, superheated the snowman's chest, resulting in its vaporization and an explosive release of steam, throwing whatever surviving snow there was all over the backyard. Blossom had to cover her face with her arms as some of it had splattered onto her. Only the bottom snowball that represented the 'legs' of the snowman remained.

On seeing the mess she made, Bunny bawled out loud, her tears still boiling away into thin trails of steam. She rubbed her eyes, and the hot tears stung her.

"Bunny! It's okay-" Blossom pleaded with her to stop, but Bunny had only cried louder. Desperate to make her feel better, she hugged the crying purple one. It took some time, but soon, her cries were reduced to sniffles. "It's your first try, Bunny- no one's expecting you to get it right the first time…"

"Thanks, Blossom…" Bunny said. "I'm sorry I cried. I shouldn't have. I just want you to be like you, like a Powerpuff Girl…"

"But you can! We'll just make a new snowman and try again," Blossom said, trying to sound as optimistic as possible. In a way, she was optimistic. Dad had been ignoring her, and Bunny was rough around the edges. But that could all change, right?

"Can it be like this forever?" Bunny asked.

"Be like what?" Blossom replied with a question.

"Can we be nice to each other forever and ever?"

"Sure, of course, Bunny," Blossom promised. "We're sisters after all, right?"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**10 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1751.**

Blossom opened her eyes. The second she regained consciousness, all she felt was pain. It took her just a moment to remember through this pain that she had been fighting tooth and nail against Bunny, who overpowered her but not before taking Bubbles and Buttercup out of the fight first.

Mister Feig.

Oh no.

It was their whole point of being here. Blossom had received a call from Feig personally twenty or thirty minutes ago, frantically and fearfully pleading for help from her own younger sister. Getting up, Blossom returned to where she was in the beginning, close to the factory entrance. The sound of a struggle was rapidly evident.

Buttercup had somehow intercepted Bunny despite the Duranium combat knife that was still in her chest. Apparently, the knife hadn't slowed her down much, though she had to abandon her machinegun because the strap was agitating her wound. She was still throwing punches like the machine she was. She was slower, however, and Bunny was able to dodge them easily, before landing a slash with Ace's sword across Buttercup's stomach.

Blossom flew into the fray the moment she saw how badly Buttercup was doing. Grappling Bunny from behind, she restrained her and was able to catch her by surprise. Seeing this, Buttercup took advantage of this and proceeded to treat Bunny like a punchbag, landing multiple hits in her stomach and face, but before she could do any further damage, Bunny shoved Buttercup away with her foot and broke free from Blossom through sheer force of strength. When Buttercup tried to fight back, Bunny punched the combat knife she had left in Buttercup's chest, forcing it deeper into her, to the point where the edge protruded from her back. Buttercup fell back, screaming, falling to her side, a hand gripping the handle of the Duranium knife in her chest.

Blossom fired an infrared beam at Bunny out of desperation, but Bunny blocked it with her purple energy shield. Blossom kept it up, trying to wear Bunny out. On realizing that their roles were reversed, Blossom pulled her MP5 and fired it at point-blank range. The force was just enough to break through Bunny's shield. Bullets slammed into Bunny's chest and neck.

But Bunny was a force of nature, and Blossom's attack did not even slow her down. Smacking the MP5 away, she slugged Blossom in the face, giving her a black eye and knocking her off her feet. When she tried to get up, Bunny put her foot down on her face. Hard.

Seeing that neither Blossom nor Buttercup was moving, Bunny stared down at them. Bringing up her x-ray vision, she stared into Blossom and saw that her heart was still pumping, but slowing down. She turned to look at Buttercup too. She could see her own knife inside Buttercup's chest. It had slid past the sternum and between the heart and the left lung, scraping against both and causing minor organ damage, but the heart was still beating against the blade, and the lungs breathing against it.

They were both still alive. Bunny contemplated killing both of them. The sword was egging her on. 'Go ahead, Bunny…' it whispered. 'Claim their lives and you'll have Bubbles all to yourself...'

Standing over Blossom, Bunny raised her sword underhanded, but she'd spent yet more time thinking; resisting the call for more blood from Ace's sword.

No.

What had cut through the sword's aura was her love for her family. Memories came rushing back to her - of the good times and her wish for a happy family.

No.

Bunny left Blossom and Buttercup alone. Instead, she searched the factory for Mister Feig. It didn't take very long when her vision could penetrate walls. Feig had been stuffed in a spacious locker, in the manager's office. The attempt to hide him was slipshod. A bag of golf clubs, with the sports equipment, spilled out, and books and locker shelves littered the floor before the locker Feig was hiding in, all but pointing out where he was - even without her x-ray vision, Bunny would have found him early into a standard sweep of the area.

Floating towards the manager's office, Bunny's mind was once again filled with a fantasy of a better tomorrow: her family, having a picnic in a field of mythical green grass, under the mythical spring sun, not too cold and neither too hot, a gentle wind blowing, Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup, and her joking and laughing and playing catch under an azure blue sky. They would come around and understand why she was doing this, surely they would!

Bunny's dream was shattered when Bubbles zipped in front of her, standing before the door leading into the manager's office, blocking the way with her arms outstretched.

"Bunny, stop!" Bubbles cried. "You can't go around killing people!"

"He'll kill you if I don't kill him!" Bunny said. "I'm protecting you and the rest of the family!"

"No, you're not!" Bubbles retorted. "I won't let you hurt Mister Feig!"

"Get out of the way, Bubbles!" Bunny warned her favorite sister. She tried to squeeze past her, but Bubbles, again, shifted herself to block her out completely. Bunny tried to push Bubbles out of the way. Bubbles would not let up, and when Bunny was able to break through, Bubbles grabbed her and shoved her back before punching her in the cheek.

Bunny stumbled back, cupping her face.

"You'll hurt me instead of letting me save you?" Bunny said, tearing up from the punch, not from the pain, but what it meant.

Bubbles was shocked; she had punched Bunny out of reflex, but she understood why she did it readily. Unsure of what to say, she broke eye contact - and saw Blossom and Buttercup on the floor. She glared at Bunny.

"Blossom… Buttercup… What have you done to them, Bunny? I would rather hurt you than let you do it to anyone else," Bubbles said.

What Bubbles said had struck Bunny harder; she had always liked Bubbles better than Blossom and Buttercup because of how sweet she was in the past.

Screaming like an animal, Bunny surged forward - Bubbles fired an ion beam, and Bunny didn't even attempt to defend herself. The ion beam singed Bunny in the chest piece of her armor, sizzling electronics but doing nothing much else. Bunny simply bore with the pain and delivered a punch, which Bubbles deflected. Bunny, however, aimed a low-blow to Bubbles' stomach, weakening her. This was followed up by several more punches, not all of which were neutralized, before Bubbles sustained a knee to her stomach again, throwing her back into the office.

Drawing her Serbu Super-Shorty, Bubbles fired a shell, which Bunny simply blocked by covering her face with an arm. Bunny grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and crushed it. She stomped on Bubbles before picking her up and flinging her to the window facing out, shattering glass. There, she hung on the sill of the window, but she was getting up again.

'No, that wouldn't do', Bunny thought. She didn't want to be interrupted while trying to kill Feig. Picking Bubbles up before she could sweep glasses out of her eyes and recover, Bunny slammed her against the concrete wall so hard that her head was stuck instead. Not wanting to leave her like this, Bunny pulled Bubbles down and laid her down on the ground, where she was still groaning in pain but was otherwise incapacitated. Bubbles' eyes were still open, her innocent baby blue pupils still visible and looking at Bunny but barely able to focus.

"I… I'm sorry, Bubbles," Bunny apologized to her while she was still able. "I had to do it, I really had to. You'll see that I'm right, I promise." Bunny left her behind after that, before floating into the manager's office. She could hear Police Chief Feig's panicked, shallow breathing. Hovering to the only locker in the room, Bunny tore the door off just to scare the cowardly man, before pulling him out one-handed and tossing him across the room. He rolled on the tiled ground, stopping only because he had slid into the foot of a couch. Feig screamed in pain as his numerous wounds were agitated.

"No, stop! Please!" Feig continued to beg, the fight in him long gone. "We- we can make a deal! I'll do anything you say! I'll give you whatever you want! Just tell me what you want! Please!"

"I want you to die!" Bunny screeched as she brandished her red-glowing sword two-handed. She shifted her sword, holding it underhanded before raising it high, wanting to make sure he was well and truly dead even on the first stroke.

"PLEEEEEASE!" Feig screamed as Bunny brought the sword down on Feig.

"No!" a Girl screeched, the voice high-pitched, as she threw herself on Feig to protect him. The sword went through the Girl instead, and Bunny could only stare in horror at what she had done.

She had accidentally stabbed Bubbles in the back - how deep, she did not know. Pulling back didn't seem to help as the sword had gone in quite deep, being made of Duranium.

"B-B-Bubbles!" Bunny stammered in horror as she dropped her sword and backed away. "I didn't mean to!" Bubbles wasn't moving after she had accidentally stabbed her.

"BUBBLES! WHAT HAVE I DONE!?" Bunny screamed madly as she clutched and clawed at her own face in agony, unable to believe what she was seeing.

As if some kind of divine punishment, Bunny felt the pain in her chest and head worsen. Her migraine headache had gone from a dull ache to sharp pains following the pattern of her heartbeats. She felt knife stabs all over her chest. She clutched at her heart, where much of the pain was. The pain was radiating from her very fingertips, spreading all the way to her toes.

That was when Blossom sneaked up on her. Seizing Bunny by the arm, Blossom turned her around and punched her repeatedly in the face, the force so hard that it'd sent her sprawling on the ground… and unconscious.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Industrial District. Steele's Stellar Steel.**

**10 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1801.**

Blossom had to rally her sisters quickly after that. After knocking out Bunny, she flew to Bubbles' side. She had been stabbed in the back. Flipping her on her back nonetheless, Blossom hovered her fingers over Bubbles' nose. There was still breathing. Bubbles was still alive. Relieved, Blossom shook her, and Bubbles groaned.

"Bubbles? Are you okay?" Blossom asked. It didn't matter if she was. They would need to get home as soon as they could. Blossom helped Bubbles to sit up. Bubbles winced in pain.

"I'm fine…" the sweetest of the three said, only to wince in pain once more. "I just… Give me a minute."

Blossom went out of the office in the meantime and found Buttercup already sitting up, Duranium knife still in her chest.

"Buttercup, are you okay?" Blossom asked, genuinely out of concern. Though Buttercup had been nonchalant and rude, she was still her sister.

"What does it look like!?" Buttercup said, pointing at the knife in her chest.

"Could you… pull it out?" Blossom suggested.

"No way! It hurts too much!" Buttercup replied.

"Can you fly?" Blossom asked, and actually considered leaving Buttercup behind for the paramedics to find - the priority now was Bunny, before she woke up.

"Just… A minute…" Buttercup said, echoing Bubbles' words. Sirens were blaring in the distance. The USDO and the TPD were coming. A minute was all they had - for Blossom knew that what they had done wasn't exactly allowed by flight control, and by extension General Blackwater. When they objected to them attending to this call from Feig, Blossom switched off her radio.

It would take time, but the Powerpuff Girls would eventually get together, though Blossom and Bubbles did most of the work as they didn't have combat knives sticking out of their chests. They carried Bunny back home. Their wayward little sister had groaned all the way home, moaning something about 'an accident' and that 'she didn't mean it'. Blossom ignored it all. At this point, Blossom felt that Bunny did not even deserve to live, much less to be listened to.

They brought Bunny into The House to meet Dad. By this point, Bunny had regained consciousness, though she was still groggy and weak. Blossom had expected stiffer resistance from her, but she seemed almost… ill. Bunny's face had gone pale, the strength in her arms gone, and Blossom had to hold her up just to keep her upright.

They were a grisly sight to Professor Utonium and Selicia Goodwin.

"What happened!?" Dad asked. "Why is everyone injured?"

"Bunny attacked us," Blossom said. "She went crazy and she attacked us!"

"She tried to kill Mister Feig!" Bubbles added. "And we had to stop her! It was horrible!"

Buttercup didn't need to add anything. The combat knife in her chest did all the talking. She was hunching over from the pain. Flying home had made it worse.

"Buttercup!" Selicia screamed. She picked her up gingerly, cradling Buttercup in her arms to avoid touching the combat knife embedded in her. "Did Bunny do this to you!?"

"Y-yes…" Buttercup said. Just talking about it made her feel faint and nauseous.

"I'll operate on her immediately!" Professor Utonium said. "Selicia, get her prepped for surgery."

"Wait, Dad! What about Bunny!?" Blossom yelled before the professor could move.

"Just- just watch her and- it's dinnertime! Just get her some spaghetti and feed her," the professor said. Blossom immediately put Bunny in a dining chair. Bubbles put down a bowl of spaghetti in front of Bunny.

The professor was about to leave when…

"Dad…" Bunny called out to him. "Please… Don't leave me…"

The professor went up to her, standing over the dining table she was sitting behind.

"Did you really do all this, Bunny?" the professor asked sternly. Bunny, at that time, couldn't remember the last time he was so severe with her.

"I had to- they didn't listen-" Bunny tried to explain, but she was feeling incredibly nauseous, and with every word, she felt like vomiting. Not an inch of her body was free from pain, and she couldn't think straight from the migraine she'd had since hours ago, which had ebbed and flowed at the best of times.

"I'm disappointed in you, Bunny!" the professor said, pointing accusingly and aggressively at her.

"Hold her down!" Blossom ordered Bubbles as she hovered by Bunny's bowl of spaghetti. Using a fork, she began rolling up a ball of spaghetti that looked more like a ball of yarn than food.

"Here's a big one!" Blossom said, grinning like a mad-girl. "Eat up…!"

"Dad-" Bunny shouted, but her voice was low and hoarse. The professor had already turned around and was stomping towards the airlock; it was either he didn't hear or didn't care. Either way, it was terrifying for Bunny, as she felt abandoned.

"D-" Bunny tried to yell for the professor to come back, only for it to happen. She began coughing. Blood spattered onto her spaghetti, adding the red of hemoglobin to the red of tomato sauce. Then she vomited into her spaghetti, adding even more blood to it.

"D-da…" Bunny couldn't even finish a single word as she cried dryly. Blood flowed down her cheeks instead, adding to two more rivulets snaking from her nostrils.

"Ew!" both Blossom and Bubbles cried in unison. "DAD! It's Bunny! She-" The professor turned around, only to be rendered as helplessly paralyzed as his adopted daughters.

Bunny's eyes rolled up, revealing the white of her eyes, now colored red with blood. She began suffering spasms, then an outbreak of convulsions. Bunny fell off her chair as she suffered a seizure, not unlike an epileptic shock, foaming white in her mouth.

"GET HER DOWN TO THE LAB, NOW!" Professor Utonium shouted.


	123. Chapter 116: Flight of Icarus (Part 1)

**Chapter 116: Flight of Icarus (Part 1)**

**B-50 W3 Medical Report**

**DOC: 10 MAR (Friday) 1989**

**Created by: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Post-Battle Medical Screening**

While I wish this report would merely be a routine description of the injuries Bunny had sustained from a mission and the treatments doled out to facilitate quick recovery, I am afraid this is going to be more than that.

The injuries Bunny has sustained in her latest operation are minor. She suffered a 3-inch long cut to her right shoulder, inflicted deep enough to cut the muscles underneath. She had also suffered minor second-degree burns to her chest and right flank of the stomach. Other than this, she had also sustained minor internal bleeding under the skin around her right eye, left cheek, and stomach. The cut had been stitched up, the burns treated with antiseptic cream and her bruises did not require treatment.

What concerned me was her condition after the battle. When she had to be dragged home for assaulting her own sisters and a law enforcement official (which is a topic for another report), she began suffering from - in layman's terms - bleeding in the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. She appeared to have suffered from internal bleeding in the lungs, as she coughed up a huge volume of blood. On first observation, this is what I assumed, as there was no gastric fluid mixed up in the blood. She underwent a kind of seizure after that, before falling unconscious.

This necessitated a full medical examination. Initially, I assumed that Bunny might have suffered from internal injuries to her respiratory system, parts of the cardiovascular system interlinked with it and the brain, accounting for the blood and seizure respectively, all inflicted during battle. That is not the case, however. Far from it, much to my regret.

Where do I even start? Perhaps with my regrets. The last medical examination I performed on Bunny was last Saturday, and it turned up nothing abnormal. Had the timing been different, would I have detected something?

Bunny appears to be suffering from the end stage of multiple terminal diseases ravaging her body. I have scanned her entire body and no part of her body was left untouched. Tumors have spread throughout her lungs, which accounted (partly) for the blood originating from her respiratory system. However, I have also detected cancerous growths in her lymphatic system and every other major organ. There is no hope of arresting the development of this cancer she is suffering from. I do not even know what kind of cancer it is, as it has advanced so far that I cannot pin down the origins of it. It has gone beyond Stage IV.

If only that is the only problem. She appears to be suffering from perforations in her organs as well, some microscopic, some slightly larger. Some had even become ulcers. This has become so serious especially in her heart that a hole would open up between the left and right ventricles intermittently, only to be repaired quickly - spontaneously and reversible Ventricular Septal Defect, in other words. These perforations are much harder to explain. The only thing I can think about was the Chemical X2 in her blood. With this thread of thought, I examined the guinea pig I kept for observation. The guinea pig has never displayed any symptoms up until the last check-up, which was two days ago, and even then, I observed only minor hemorrhaging in its gum, which I thought was self-inflicted. When I checked it today, it appears to have just developed the early-stage version of the same disease. The guinea pig had a delayed response. Based on this hunch, I drew blood from Bunny to examine the cells within, only to see that there is more horror hiding at the cellular level.

Bunny's white blood cell count was through the roof, appears malformed and they appeared to have attacked cells of the same markers, and if that is not enough, some cells appeared to have spontaneously died for no apparent reason. But there can only be one reason now. I took a second blood sample and prepared it for Chemical X2 imaging. Through this, I found out that the cells that have died appear to contain the highest concentration of Chemical X2.

In summary, Bunny is suffering not just from every possible cancer that humanity has ever faced. She appears to be suffering from Leukemia, another cancer (because a dozen others are not enough), as well as a form of autoimmune disease I have yet to identify - if it is at all possible given that we are dealing with an enhanced being. In addition to this, the spontaneous cell death is giving rise to a slow form of tissue necrosis. This is connected to her cancers and organ perforations as well.

I have done a brain scan as well, and it is not pretty. There are signs of brain hemorrhages, which indicates brain damage, though the bleeding has stopped. This explains the seizure.

Running the numbers, I have a theory. This could be what I would term 'Chemical X2 poisoning'. I have been measuring Bunny's Chemical X2 blood levels over the past two-and-half weeks, and it has been increasing rapidly, likely from the use of her enhanced abilities - it was established that repeated use of enhanced abilities causes Chemical X - and Chemical X2 - to increase in concentration. Now, the very same thing that has been aiding in her survival is slowly killing her - destroying her cells, damaging tissues and organs, and causing aberrations in physiological functions.

Bunny is dying. Bunny is dying and I have no solutions.

* * *

**Phone Recording 03101989-2245**

**DOC: 10 MAR (Friday) 1989.**

**EXTRACTED: 11 MAR (Saturday) 1989.**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Field Researcher Utonium: (Tired) Hello? Who are you and what do you want?

General Blackwater: You watch your tone. This is General Blackwater. Drag Blossom to the line, right now.

Field Researcher Utonium: If you want so much to speak to Blossom, why did you call the house line?

General Blackwater: (Sternly) Because I want you to pay attention as well. Now get Blossom here, right now.

Field Researcher Utonium: I don't know if you know how things work - if you want to deal with a child, you deal with her parents. If it's anything to do with Blossom, you'll talk to me.

General Blackwater: That's the first time you outlined it that way. You seem fine with letting your 'children' run rampant without any adult supervision before now.

Field Researcher Utonium: What do you want, general?

General Blackwater: I think you should know what happened by now if you're anything you claimed to be.

Field Researcher Utonium: And?

General Blackwater: Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup ATTACKED Bunny during an important mission, Utonium!

Field Researcher Utonium: Bunny tried to kill a high-ranking police officer. Did you order her to do that?

General Blackwater: So what if I did? You don't understand what's at stake here!

Field Researcher Utonium: Blossom did what she thought was right-

General Blackwater: Blossom's decision wasn't sanctioned. It wasn't legal and it wasn't allowed! Flight control tried to turn her back and she ignored the orders!

Field Researcher Utonium: And who are you to talk about what's legal? If I'm not mistaken, the Girls aren't even legally persons, or humans, or even US citizens, am I right? There's nothing you can do to control them.

General Blackwater: Damn you, Upton! I don't have time for games!

Field Researcher Utonium: They did what they thought was right. They saved a man from death when you should have just ordered him to be taken alive, even if he's guilty of something. You have no one to blame but yourself!

General Blackwater: You'll find that the USDO doesn't just exert its power and influence through the law, Upton, and petty semantics and linguistics aren't going to mean shit either. You watch yourself, professor, and I'd keep the Girls close if I were you.

Field Researcher Utonium: Are you done threatening a poor, helpless, and saddened father and a trio of kids? Or are you going to tell me you'll kill Selicia during our wedding as well?

General Blackwater: Who do you think I am? A terrorist?

(Silence)

Field Researcher Utonium: Isn't this the part where you hang up loudly and angrily?

General Blackwater: How's Bunny? I've just received your report.

Field Researcher Utonium: Why do you even care? She's just a pawn on your chessboard, a piece in your war game. And don't give me that crap about how she's a soldier under your command and all that. I don't think officers care THAT much about their soldiers.

General Blackwater: I'm done playing games with you, professor. You need to tell me about Bunny. You WILL tell me about Bunny!

Field Researcher Utonium: And my report isn't enough?

General Blackwater: Is she… is she still alive at this point?

Field Researcher Utonium: Yes. Yes, she is.

General Blackwater: And have you thought of a solution to her… disease?

Field Researcher Utonium: I'm working on it, and you're interrupting me.

General Blackwater: What ideas do you have?

Field Researcher Utonium: Just one. I can try removing the majority of the Chemical X2 in her body by manufacturing Anti-X2 and dousing her with it. But… I don't know if it would save her or kill her immediately. Her body depends on Chemical X2 to keep functioning now, to repair the damage it has sustained from both injuries and her terminal illnesses. At the same time, the Chemical X2 is killing her. It's a delicate matter, like standing between a rock and a hard place. I need more time, and you're not providing it.

General Blackwater: Fine, I'll be signing off for now. But please - think of something, and don't you dare give up. (hangs up)

Field Researcher Utonium: (Hangs up)

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1155.**

Bunny opened her eyes, and when she did, she wasn't even sure what time or day it was. Her vision was blurred, and it didn't go away immediately like it normally would. The ceiling was high up above. Her vision wasn't just blurred. It was swimming, throbbing. Pain pierced her eyes shortly after she saw bright white light.

She sat up; it took too much effort. The pain in her body hadn't gone away. She thought she might even have dreamed about the pain. Aches and pains were everywhere, the former almost alien, the latter, all too common. Looking down at herself, she saw that she was dressed in hospital garbs, and she was covered in a light-blue blanket. She found herself lying in a hospital bed. Looking around her, she saw that she was down in the lab.

She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed it. Her vision was still blurry, but she thought she could see a figure hunched behind a desk, feverishly writing something, as evident from how his arm would jerk left and right and all over the place.

It didn't take long for there to be piercing pain in her heart once more, except this time, it was quite unexpected that she yelped in pain.

The figure hunched behind the desk looked over his shoulder and spotted her. He pushed back his chair and padded up to her, almost jogging.

"Bunny, you're up," the figure said. It was Dad all along. In a way, Bunny knew from the white top he had on, which was a lab coat, she noticed when he came closer. Even with her blurred vision, she could tell how tired he was from the black eye bags under his eyes, his messy hair, and the unshaven look about him. "You need to lie back down and rest. You're not well."

Bunny resisted initially but gave in because of how tired and in pain she was.

"What happened? Why am I here?" Bunny asked.

"You… urm… you fainted," Dad said, but the uncertainty in his voice was obvious, and he wasn't fooling anyone.

"It was more than that. I was bleeding too…" Bunny said.

"Yes, you were," Dad said. Bunny could tell that he was deeply upset, even though she couldn't see his face really well. "How long has it been happening?"

This was it. Bunny knew that Daddy hated dishonesty. But she was backed into a corner now, and there was no point in hiding it, not when she was almost bedridden by now.

"I don't know... A week ago, I think…" Bunny said, thinking back. No, it had been going on for slightly longer than that. She remembered her first foray into a police precinct to clear it out. She'd bled from the nose despite there being no reason for it. "Dad… I think it started happening last Friday."

The look on her Dad's face had changed, and from the looks of it, she knew she had messed up big time. He'd shrunk from learning of the fact, sighing deeply. He leaned on her bed, as if an old man, no doubt weathered by how she'd kept her illness from him.

"Are you mad at me, Dad?" Bunny asked, her voice gone down to a whisper, frightened, not just at how Dad had changed into a shriveled up thing, but at how serious things have become.

"No," Dad said immediately, with surety. He didn't want Bunny to suffer anymore stress, but he genuinely wasn't angry; there was simply no room for it when Bunny's life was at stake. "I'm just… just…"

"Please don't be sad, Dad," Bunny said. "I'll get better soon, I promise. I still need to protect Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup…" All she wanted to do was make Daddy smile again, but what she said seemed to make things worse - it felt as if everything she was doing was making things worse.

"You- you need to stop thinking about that for now," Dad said while wiping something from his eyes. "They'll be fine. They can take care of themselves. Mom and Dad will be there for them, too."

"Where are they?" Bunny said, realizing that it was just Dad and her in the labs. "Where are my big sisters?"

"Blossom phoned me from the city just now. They flew off after a call from the hotline. She said that it was actually Mayor Wilford's 'surprise'. Your sisters are attending a parade dedicated to them, arranged by the entire city to celebrate their hard work and crime-fighting efforts," Dad said. "I told you they'll be fine. Now, why don't you settle down and rest-"

The professor had tried to calm Bunny down, but it'd done the exact opposite.

She remembered the contents of Feig's file. The corrupt police chief was in charge of security around the 'victory parade' involving her sisters. He was also handing out the drug known as 'His Secret' to as many police officers as possible. As it just so happens, he was handpicking his own men for security.

She knew what it meant. Feig was putting his own people around her sisters and loading them up with drugs. Bubbles had told her about her dark past involving the drug, how it had warped her, how a being known as the 'Fairy Godmother' had used it to turn her against her own family. She knew about how people who used the drug would change, become greater threats to even enhanced beings like her; she'd fought her fair share of them.

Her sisters were in the middle of an ambush, right now.

"Dad! My sisters are in trouble!" Bunny suddenly bolted up. The professor seized her by her shoulders in an attempt to hold her down, but she was too strong.

"Nonsense, Bunny! They're fine! They'll be surrounded by friends and police officers!" the professor said. "The USDO-"

"But I need to help them! Those policemen are bad!" Bunny insisted, and the only reason she didn't push the professor out of the way was that she was afraid of hurting him.

"Look, Bunny, just stop. You can't get involved anymore!" Dad said, the sadness in his voice returning.

"Why?" Bunny asked, the look on her Dad's face giving her pause. There was gravity to it, as though he knew something she didn't.

"You're… sick. Really sick," Dad said.

"I know, but I'll get better - I just need to help my sisters this time, please!" Bunny insisted.

"No, Bunny!" Dad yelled, causing Bunny to jump. Shaken, she held firm and did not let herself cry. "You don't understand! You're dying! And it's all because of this DAMNED Chemical X2 in your blood! If you use your powers, you'll die from it!"

It was the only logical explanation. Professor Utonium had drawn his conclusion from his observations of how Chemical X had behaved in Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's body. As they continued to use their enhanced abilities, the concentration of Chemical X increases - and the trend accelerates as they use more of it. The professor had been taking blood samples from Bunny every week, and it had been increasing rapidly. Where Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup was created with under 1500 parts per million of Chemical X in their blood, which recently rose to about 2000ppm, Bunny was created with 3000 parts per million of Chemical X2 in her blood, and it had been growing exponentially since. The blood test he conducted just last night detected Chemical X2 in excess of 12000ppm in her blood.

There was never any negative side effects in Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup even when they drank Chemical X, which meant that there was something wrong with Chemical X2, and it was poisoning Bunny somehow, causing damage to her internal organs, cancer, and other insidious diseases.

"But what about my sisters?" Bunny asked, discouraged, and upset from this rare feeling of helplessness that was welling up in her.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll give General Blackwater a call," the professor said. He couldn't decide if Bunny was onto something, or if she was just imagining danger at every corner because of her training and experience - or even her illness. Bunny had suffered a degree of brain damage, and it could be impairing her judgment.

"Now would you please just lie back down?" Dad said as he gently lay Bunny down to her bed again. "Your condition will worsen if you keep stressing yourself out this way."

But Bunny appeared restless, unwilling. The professor sat down next to her, at first rubbing sweat off his forehead, then his face, as if he could wipe his troubles away.

"Remember that story I told you? About Icarus and Daedalus?" Dad said.

"You didn't finish it," Bunny said.

"Then let me finish it for you," he said. "Icarus and Daedalus made themselves wings using feathers and wax. They did it to escape the Minotaur's labyrinth and the palace of Minos over the sea so that they can be free and live happily ever after.

Daedalus, the father, warned Icarus not to fly too low, or the dampness from the sea will soak his wings, but most importantly, he warned him not to fly too high, or the sun's heat will melt them. Icarus did not listen to his father. He flew too high, the wax in his wings melted, and the feathers scattered. He couldn't fly any further - he was halfway to land too - and so he plunged into the sea and drowned.

Daedalus was heartbroken, and he had to fly alone to Sicily. He had to live on alone, without his beloved son, Icarus, for decades more."

"Do you understand the meaning of the story, Bunny?" the professor finally asked. Bunny fell silent; she knew what it meant implicitly. "Don't be like Icarus, Bunny, please. Don't leave me alone for the coming decades, don't make me a Daedalus. You- you have the potential to live for years, and years, and years - hundreds, even thousands of years. Don't throw all that away. Don't throw away a hundred lifetimes of happiness over something that may not be real."

Reluctantly, Bunny stayed in bed, still thinking about what Dad had said, still thinking about the story and its meaning. She was dying? It seemed an impossible prospect at first, considering that she had survived everything from getting beaten up by enhanced beings like her, to getting impaled with agony bolts and losing most of her blood that way. But it sunk in, hard. Yes, she was dying, and she wasn't getting any better. That explained it, why she had been bleeding and hurting more and more as the days went by. Dad was never wrong…

But the thought of leaving her elder sisters out there, unwittingly exposing themselves, surrounded by enemies, in the form of bent cops and who knows what else, out there to be piled on or peppered with shots, both conventional and Duranium… All this did not sit well with her. General Blackwater had been wrong before. Chief of Intelligence Rook too. So, it stood to reason that Dad could be wrong. She knew what she'd read and seen. She knew from her clashes with corrupted police officers how deadly they could be, and she knew her sisters were no match in an ambush against dozens, even hundreds of cops and other enemies.

So, as Dad was dialing a number on the phone furnishing his desk, Bunny bolted for it, up the stairs and out the airlock.

Professor Utonium turned around, only just able to catch a glimpse of Bunny and the purple streak of Chemical X2 exhaust behind her.

"BUNNY, STOP!" the professor screamed, alarmed by her use of her abilities. He ran to the stairs, then up, painfully slow compared to his youngest adopted daughter, even as he ascended two or three steps up the stairs at once. "Bunny!"

At the airlock, he tried to open the door, only to find that it wouldn't open beyond a thin gap. Looking down at the gap, he discovered, to his horror, that Bunny had torn a steel bar from inside the airlock to jam the doors.

He tried ramming it open with his shoulder. He'd even gone back to fetch his pistol and tried shooting out the steel bar to no avail. "Bunny!" he cried repeatedly. He knew what she was going to do, and he was way behind if he were to try to talk her down. Going back down a second time, he realized that he hadn't been thinking straight because of how emotionally affected he was and developed a solution via rational thought, which was his strong suit. He did have concentrated Nitric acid in the lab. Taking a whole bottle of it and a pipette, he dispensed the acid on the barely-exposed steel bar blocking the airlock doors over and over until it was weak enough for him to ram open the door… only to discover when he tried going through the second set of airlock doors that she had blocked it by stacking almost all the furniture in the living room in front of it.

"Bunny!" the professor cried as he tried to brute-force his way through the furniture, making almost no progress that way.

"Thomas?" Selicia's voice came through the crack in the airlock. She was in the garage, assembling a few pieces of security shutters and systems for the windows and doors. Her work had been such a noisy affair that it was only when she left the garage for a glass of water that she noticed the makeshift barricade Bunny had put up to block the laboratory's airlock. "What's going on?"

"Selicia! You have to stop Bunny from leaving! She can't use her powers or she'll die!" the professor shouted from the airlock within. Selicia took off after that. After ramming his shoulder against the second set of airlock doors a few more times and making little progress, he'd given up and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. The silence that followed was ominous. Unable to help it, he sobbed at how ineffectual he was as a father, at how he was unable to protect his own family.

Soon, there were footsteps again. Wiping his tears, he took a deep breath and willed himself to put up a stronger front. Standing up, he stood by the crack in the airlock doors. Selicia had returned. He couldn't see Bunny from any angle.

"Selicia, where's Bunny?" the professor asked.

"She's… gone," Selicia said. "I think she flew out the window. Look, I'm going to get you out, and we'll figure it out from there, okay?"

It took far too long for Selicia to dig out Professor Utonium from the airlock. By the time they went up to the Girls' room, she was long gone. The walk-in closet was wide open. Bunny had been helping herself to the armory within. Discarded gear littered the floor nearby, probably stuff that she deemed unnecessary or not worthwhile enough to bring along. There were a few grenades, a mixture of high explosives, smokescreen, and flashbangs, which were likely excesses. Bubbles' spare shotgun was likewise thrown aside, as was one of Buttercup's few pieces of light machineguns. Boxes of ammunition were scattered, some with the bullets spilled out. Bunny was in a hurry.

But something stood out from all this. On the pink table where the Girls frequently gathered to discuss things as if it was a conference table, the professor's voice recorder was left behind. Underneath the device was a note, written with a purple crayon. There were drops of blood on the paper, which crushed the professor's spirit as it reminded him of her terminal illnesses.

The professor padded over to the grim note and sat down on the pink table, picking it up.

'I LUV U, DADDY,' the note read.

Bunny had drawn a purple heart next to the sentence. The professor could barely stifle his whimpering and cries; he had to cover his own mouth to do it. Selicia sat beside him, keeping close to him in hopes that she could be his emotional anchor.

"We've been good to her, Thomas," Selicia said, leaning on him, trying to make him feel better.

Picking up the voice recorder, he browsed through the LCD screen. There were almost twenty files in it. The professor had long forgotten about the voice recorder in favor of more important things, but it'd turned out that the voice recorder was vital after all - vital for him to understand Bunny better, and evidently vital as an emotional crutch.

"Not good enough," the professor said. To him, the voice recorder was a sign that there were needs that had gone unfulfilled. Pressing on an arrow button, the professor navigated on the voice recorder's LCD screen to arrive at the last file, titled simply as Sound Record File 19. Bunny had yet to learn how to rename the files, but it didn't matter. It was dated 03/11/89 - today. The timestamp read 1207 - mere minutes ago. He hit the play button, and listened, with resignation, to the content of the file…

There was silence instead. For seconds as the file ran, nothing came out, and for seconds, the professor thought that Bunny had made a critical mistake when it came to her message. But then her voice came out, coughing at first, which was not a good sign. It could be that she wasn't sure what to say, but eventually, it began in earnest.

'Dad… I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, but I need to go and I have no choice. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup need me and I can't just lie down and hope they'll be okay. (sobbing, sniffles) Dad… Thanks for being so good to me. I'm sorry that you'll have to be sad like Daedalus but… I would rather die saving my sisters than live a thousand years without them. I'm sorry for making you upset, for hurting Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, for everything. Big hugs and kisses and goodbye, Dad. I love you.' - Bunny Utonium, 03/11/89, 1207. Sound Record File 19.


	124. Chapter 117: Flight of Icarus (Part 2)

**Chapter 117: Flight of Icarus (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1117.**

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The clown phone in the Girls' room blared as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were moping in their own corners. No one picked up the phone immediately. Blossom and Bubbles were still unable to get over the battle they'd fought with their own younger sister, Bunny, and Buttercup had gone back to her usual non-chatty self, hiding in the closet as if she had something to hide. Blossom was disturbed, but Bubbles was even beyond that; it'd set her back, and she couldn't help but feel depressed again, and when she had to inject herself with a syringe of watered-down His Secret, she felt the urge to take His Secret 2.0 stronger.

Eventually, Blossom hovered to the phone lazily and picked it up.

"Hello?" Blossom answered the phone with a dismal tone to her voice.

"Oh, thank goodness- ur - Powerpuff Girls! We're in a heap of trouble! Huge trouble!" out came Mayor Wilford's voice, less shaky and old as before. Somehow, it'd grown stronger, louder and shriller. It did sound like huge trouble.

"What is it, Mister Mayor?" Blossom asked, somewhat distracted by the mayor's cry for help.

"It's the Townsville Stadium! Terrorists are threatening to blow it up! Please, you gotta help us! The Townsville Terriers NEED that stadium for their home games!" the mayor cried through the phone, his voice reaching unpleasant heights.

"We're on our way, Mayor!" Blossom replied, more confidently this time. Bunny might be ill, and their sisterly relationship - if it could still be called as such - might be in tatters, but there were more urgent matters to attend to.

"The ur… police are already there! Please hurry! The terrorists are in the locker room of the home team!" Mayor Wilford added before they part ways on the line.

The Girls geared up and flew off after that, though Blossom had difficulty rounding everyone up to fight crime.

"Are you sure you're okay, Bubbles?" Blossom asked the sweetest of the three as they were on their way to the Townsville Stadium. "You're still wearing bandages and everything."

"Dad said I'm well enough, so yeah, I guess…" Bubbles said. "It's still a little achy, but I think I'm okay…" Like Buttercup, Bubbles had to undergo surgery last night, except that Professor Utonium found surprisingly little organ damage, which explained why she was able to help fly Bunny home last night in the first place. She had been lucky. Bunny's sword had slid past the shoulder blade and missed her lungs.

"What about you, Buttercup?" Blossom turned to the toughest of the three and asked. "Are you okay too?"

"Hmph, I'm fine…" Buttercup simply grunted. She too was still wearing bandages around her chest and underneath her armor, but her wounds had closed rapidly after yesterday's surgery. When the professor operated on her, it was found out that the combat knife Bunny had plunged into her was done so to be non-fatal, if deliberately painful. The blade had slid past the heart and right lung, doing minimal organ damage. All it took were some stitches (actually, lots of them) and some bed rest for Buttercup to be fit for crime-fighting again, though, like Bubbles, she was still a little sore in the chest, and some superficial parts of the wound had yet to close, which necessitated the bandages.

They flew towards the Townsville Stadium. In ten minutes, they were downtown. The Girls stopped beside a billboard to rest, but they were doing something else too. The Girls were met with another advertisement featuring them - except they hadn't volunteered for another photoshoot ever since January. This time, it featured the three of them flying across the sky, though it didn't look quite right. The poses for flight were all wrong and would have resulted in a rapid tailspin and crash landing. There was also something about their faces on the billboard that didn't look quite right - it was like staring at their doppelgangers.

But they had to move on, lacking the time to wonder about such things. They went uptown and finally swooped down to the entrance of the Townsville Stadium, guarded by an inordinate number of police officers even for a siege. There were almost a hundred officers spread out over the grand entrance. They met with the lieutenant in charge of the scene, who led them into the stadium, oddly calm considering that they were faced with terrorists.

The Powerpuff Girls were brought into the locker room, where the terrorists were said to be holed up in… Only to be met with none other than Mayor Wilford and his USDO advisor, Miss Bellum.

"Mister Mayor? But- What's going on?" Blossom asked, surprised.

"Yeah, where are all the bad guys we're supposed to ki- I mean, beat up?" Buttercup added. She had been working herself up in anticipation of some action. It frustrated her that there turned out to be nothing at all.

Bubbles, on the other hand, was silent. Her eyes wandered to the wall, then the lockers, and finally the floor. She had been thinking about Bunny all this time, and she had been wondering about visiting her in the labs, to let the water flow under the bridge, and just be sisters. Now, she wouldn't have that opportunity anymore, at least until whatever the Mayor had in store for them was over.

"Oh, you three are such kidders, don't you remember the surprise I promise the three of you?" Mayor Wilford said. There was something about him that had changed. For one thing, he didn't have his cane with him anymore - the old man needed it with him all the time just to shuffle from one end of the room to another. Furthermore, his hunch wasn't as pronounced as before, and he stood taller than he used to be. He seemed more energetic and incredibly cheerful for a man with one foot in the grave, and certainly more full of life for one so close to dying. His complexion, previously dull, was now in the pink and the concentration of his wrinkles had even halved.

"The surprise!" Blossom exclaimed excitedly. "Yes, I remember! You promised us! Is it here now?"

"Why, certainly! And now I'm sure you want to know what the actual surprise is, am I right?" the Mayor teased the Powerpuff Girls.

"Is it a cake?" Buttercup asked, now caught up in the excitement. "Do I get my own bike!?"

The Mayor's tease had even raised Bubbles' chin. She smiled bitterly; bad things had been happening, but at least there were some good to balance it out. Whatever the surprise was, the first thing she thought about was to save some of it for Bunny, just like how Blossom had gifted her some drawings and papercrafts even after she had tried to kill half the family and was confined to the Duranium bed for it.

"Well, come on then, why don't I show you the surprise in-person!?" the Mayor started towards the locker room door and beckoned for them to follow, swinging his arms in an exaggerated manner, clearly enjoying his new-found health and vigor. Where he'd found it, Blossom had no idea. She still hadn't gotten over the fact that he was ninety years old. Considering that she wasn't even one year old, ninety seemed legendary, even mythical.

The Mayor, flanked by Miss Bellum and half a dozen mayoral bodyguards, led the Girls down the corridors that muscled young men would jog through on their way to the grassy arena in the center of the stadium.

"Mister Mayor?" Blossom came up beside him, holding his hand. The Mayor accepted the gesture gladly. "Are you still mad at us about the… urm… that day?"

"I'm sorry I hurt your friends…" Bubbles said automatically. She would still dream about that day when she broke through the walls of the city hall to massacre the terrorists there, and in the process, some of the mayoral bodyguards in the process.

"Blossom, Bubbles… I've long forgiven the three of you for all your trespasses against the City of Townsville," the Mayor said, before pausing as if straining to think. "And urm… ur…" Despite undergoing medical treatment with the USDO's medical wing, the mental effects of his dementia couldn't be eliminated entirely. There was some permanent damage that would likely remain with him for the remainder of his life.

"The Mayor knows that the three of you are children, Powerpuff Girls," Miss Bellum went on, filling in the blanks in the Mayor's mind. "He knows that you're trying your best, that you're still learning."

"Thanks, Miss Bellum. How did you get to know me so well?" Mayor Wilford said.

"We've been working together closely for a while now, Mister Mayor," Miss Bellum said. "And we've been sitting together by the fireplace hearing you talk for hours on more than several occasions."

"Right, urm, yes, of course. You are such a good listener, Sara. An increasingly rare breed these days, what with all these electronic things and gadgets…" the Mayor said absentmindedly before regaining his footing. "Anyway, Townsville's been benefiting from you Girls ever since. How the three of you have been besting the gangs that'd been plaguing Townsville for decades! It would be selfish and exploitative of me if I don't give the three of you something in return…"

Eventually, they emerged out in the open, treading on tracks, then grass. A column of vehicles was parked there, with literal tanks leading the pack! Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had been flying low, so they hadn't noticed it until now. The USDO tank crews were sitting on top of their tanks, watching the Powerpuff Girls as they walked by, accompanying the Mayor.

"Woah! Cool!" Buttercup exclaimed, forgetting her own troubles upon seeing the tanks, which actually wouldn't have been that cool in the eyes of soldiers or even some civilian adults, as they were outdated models, M60 Patton tanks bought on the cheap from the US Army. They hadn't even been repainted yet to fit their new law enforcement roles. "Are we going to ride in one of those?"

Mayor Wilford laughed.

"No, Buttercup, I'm afraid you won't get to play soldier today," he said with a grandfatherly smile. Buttercup pouted with displeasure, and he went on in hopes of improving her mood. "But I have something better. You'll like it, I'm sure."

They were brought to a parade float that was visible even from behind the tanks, as it rose to a height above the military machines. It was a huge, colorful beast, built atop a large cargo truck. There was a heart-shaped platform at the front with metal railings sized for little children, and behind that were cartoon-styled versions of themselves, rendered as massive plaster statues, smiling and staring into the distance, waving at an audience that wasn't there yet. Pink-red skirting was draped all around the float, and banners were hung at the sides of the massive artwork in pink, baby blue, and lime, with words encouraging the soon-to-amass crowd to cheer for them. 'GIVE IT UP FOR THE POWERPUFF GIRLS!' the banners screamed.

"Pfff! I'd rather have the tank!" Buttercup said anyway. She hated the fact that there was way more pink and red than green, something which seemed to be a recurring theme throughout her life. Blossom, as usual, took all the limelight.

"Who knows? Maybe one of your USDO pals might give you a ride after all this is over?" Mayor Wilford suggested patiently. He used to be less forgiving and tolerant, but with the return of his health, he could afford the time and energy. "But for now, why don't the three of you hop in on the Powerpuff cruiser and enjoy your victory parade? You've earned it!"

"But what's a parade, Mister Mayor?" Bubbles asked. They had never been in one before, and neither had they seen one even in illustrations.

"Oh, you'll love it. It's when tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of people are invited to see you… not because they have to, but because they want to," Mayor Wilford tried his best to paint a picture that was as appealing as possible to the Girls. "Imagine having hundreds of thousands of friends, and imagine artworks the size of trucks and buses and even buildings, like the one you'll be standing on, made just for you to enjoy. I've been in plenty of them. Imagine the sky lighting up in numerous colors like a rainbow, thousands of balloons everywhere, people taking pictures of you, and shouting your name because they love you!"

"I would love that…" Blossom said.

"I don't know…" Bubbles replied, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment. She couldn't even imagine how a thousand people looked like, much less ten thousand or a hundred thousand.

"But… a tank…" Buttercup continued to harp on the prospect of riding a tank, though the mayor had successfully made it harder for her to do so. She thought that it would be interesting, at least, to be sought after by thousands of people. It made her feel… something. Pride? Or arrogance? Love? Or power? The onslaught of both insanity and her sisters' stabilizing psionic waves from the silver lining in her brain was confusing her so much she felt like smashing her skull open.

"Come on then, hop into your float and enjoy the show!" Mayor Wilford encouraged. The Girls kicked themselves up into hovering positions. Bubbles and Buttercup floated up to the platform, but Blossom stayed where she was.

"Mister Mayor?"

"Hmm? Yes, Blossom?"

"There are so many things I've done wrong…" Blossom said and was unsure of how she could continue.

"We've all made our fair share of mistakes," Mayor Wilford tried his best to put Blossom at ease. "I know you feel like you don't deserve a reward, but you do! You want to do good, and you have done well. Kids your age… they don't tend to achieve as much as you, nor would they care to. You're one of a kind, Blossom, you and your sisters."

"Do you really think so?" Blossom said, smiling from ear to ear.

"He's not the only one who thinks so," Miss Bellum said. "Blossom, you were mistreated often, and you often face impossible odds. Sure, bad things happen, but it's important that we celebrate the good that comes out of it, like you and your sisters."

Blossom smiled toothily at the both of them before joining her sisters on the float's platform.

Soon, the parade float began moving after the tanks up front rolled ponderously forward at low speed - the tanks weren't that slow by design, but they were instructed to inch forward at walking speed for the parade.

Blossom looked behind her. There were other floats behind them - one with the city mascot, a Terrier, as well as a plaster statue of the city's founding father, a chiseled man in a barbaric fur coat, hat, and a musket. Mayor Wilford and Sara Bellum had their own car, an open-roofed white '60s classical car reserved for high officials. Behind them was a convoy of USDO humvees and APCs, providing additional security, as if the tanks weren't enough.

Police officers flanked the floats on both sides, marching in formation, some in ceremonial uniforms, while others were prepped for combat, especially the squads of SWAT officers and STARS specialists. More police officers marched in formation behind the last float, followed by police cruisers, SWAT vans, and even newly-acquired APCs.

Although the parade column was slow, the Girls were soon plunged back into the light. Crowds had gathered behind barriers on either side of the road, cheering for the Powerpuff Girls. Relatively few people had seen the Powerpuff Girls up close, and legions had turned up for the chance. Legions more came genuinely because they were a symbol of hope and a sign of positive change. The flashes from hundreds of cameras were blinding.

Soon, the Girls began to understand what Mayor Wilford was offering them, and what he meant when he described a parade for them. Confetti was released from payloads above. Firecrackers shot up into the dark, cloudy sky, exploding in an omnidirectional shower of sparks colored pink, blue, and green. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup stared up into the sky, amazed by the sight.

"Hey, ur- Girls, is this thing on?" it was Mayor Wilford on the radio. Blossom was surprised that she would find him there. The Mayor would normally prefer to speak in person.

"Yes, Mister Mayor, what are you doing in there?" Blossom adjusted the mic pressed up to her face and asked on the radio.

"I just thought I should accompany you Girls in spirit, even if I can't stand with you," the Mayor said. "I can see the three of you from my car, but it's rather far away."

Blossom turned back and waved at the Mayor. He waved back at him.

"Now, why don't you wave at the crowd. It's a crowd-pleaser that'll never fail," the Mayor advised. Blossom and Bubbles did as he was told. Blossom had to nudge Buttercup to do the same thing. The crowd went wild. Ahead of them, three huge balloons the size of garden sheds were were heavy, but they had just enough helium in them to allow a slow ascend. Again, these balloons were colored the same as the Girls, in pink, blue and green.

"Girls, the balloons are for you. Why don't the each of you blast the balloons with your respective colors and see what falls out," Mayor Wilford advised. The Girls looked at each other, each excited to shoot their respective balloons for their own reasons. Blossom was curious as to what the Mayor meant, Bubbles just wanted to have fun and Buttercup wanted action wherever she could get it.

Blossom looked up at her giant pink balloon, charged up a pair of heat beams before letting it loose. The balloon exploded instantly, resulting in a shower of pink confetti. Smaller pink, red, black and white balloons within the larger one was let loose, which flew up into the sky because of their lighter weight.

Bubbles and Buttercup shot their respective giant balloons almost simultaneously after that, resulting in similar consequences. The Girls laughed, enjoying the exercise. This created a light show with the Girls' beams for the citizens and tourists attending the parade. Periodically, more of the same giant balloons would be released for the Girls to shoot down. The crowds on either side became louder. Blossom's smile widened equally as much, while Bubbles' cheeks burned redder, and Buttercup ego was stroked harder.

Soon, however, it became a little tiring. The strange thing was, they hadn't even fired off too many beams, just ten to a dozen of them.

Little did they know that they were already in a trap set just for them. Beneath the Girls each was a nozzle poking out from a hole, too small for the Girls to notice without knowledge of its existence. Another thing they had failed to notice was the gas leaking from the nozzles. The trinity of gas trails was too thin and transparent.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Van Damme Apartments.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1209.**

"Muah Hahahahahaha! This is perfect! Flawless! Impeccable! They've completely and utterly fallen for it!" Mojo Jojo cackled as he was watching the television screen before him. He had set up a temporary outpost in an apartment building right next to the route the Powerpuff Girls' victory parade would be proceeding through. The television screen was displaying an active feed from a hidden camera on the Girls' parade float. It was high-tech stuff, something that the general population had little access to, and it provided a highly detailed, high-resolution video of what was going on.

He could see that the device he had planted under the Girls' platform was working - he could barely make out the thin wisp of white gas floating up to their intended recipients. It was the very reason why he plotted to steal the Anti-X formula from Professor Utonium. There was a reservoir of Anti-X under the Girls' platform, and small amounts of it were being released upwards, exposing the Powerpuff Girls to it in small doses.

They would slowly lose their powers over time without realizing it. It was amazing to the enhanced chimpanzee how everything had just fallen into place. As it just so happened, the Girls were instructed to shoot down giant balloons to please the crowds gathered to worship them, something which Mojo Jojo understood to be energy-consuming, something which would accelerate the process. It was all too perfect.

From underneath his table, he pulled out a briefcase. Setting it down on the table, he unlocked it with a passcode. Opening the briefcase, he took out the contents. There were two weapons inside: the first was his self-made laser pistol, powered by Chemical X - he could even use his blood as ammunition in this device. The second was his latest creation, a harpoon gun that utilizes both the power of Chemical X-infused gunpowder and a crossbow layout to propel a Duranium-tipped bolt designed to inflict pain in the form of in-built deployable saws and electric prods. If it could work on the USDO's latest bioweapon, then it could certainly work on the inferior prototypes.

"Soon… soon, I shall bring the Powerpuff Girls to heel, and prove my superiority, my dominance, that I have always been right, and correct, and accurate, precise!" Mojo Jojo ranted in his little outpost. It was a dirty little room in an uninhabited apartment unit, filled with discarded food wrappers, plastic bottles, and banana peels. "Soon, Townsville will fall, and the USDO will follow suit. They will wallow in their defeat, forever proven wrong! And then perhaps, I shall reclaim what's mine! Father… Soon, Father, we shall be reunited, and nothing will distract us from our familial relationship - nothing!"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Highway 17.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1209.**

Bunny roared down the highway, pushing her motorbike to the breaking point. She knew about Dad's warning, that using her power would kill her, but the urgency of the situation had forced her to augment the speed of her bike with her own. Her flip-phone rang while she was approaching 200 miles per hour; even the traffic police couldn't even begin to catch up with her.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ Her flip-phone stubbornly nagged at her to pick it up, but she ignored it with difficulty. She knew who it was, and she knew, too, that if she picked it up, she could be tempted to return home. Tears flowed down her face and blood down her nostrils and mouth as she continued to tear through the highway.

She felt faint. Coming off the highway on a ramp, she was almost there. Her mind had become blank again. She could feel it coming on.

"No, no, no!" Bunny cried as she felt her arms convulse. Soon, she lost control and crashed into the wall of a neighborhood apartment building. A seizure had hit her at full force even before then, but it was small comfort as time was lost to her brain misfiring. It had continued for longer, as her brain was damaged even further. Bystanders tried to help, but the look of her deterred most people from approaching. She was laid down on her side to prevent her from drowning from her own vomit.

It'd lasted minutes, and when Bunny came to, she simply pushed the bystander, who was a woman trained in emergency medical procedures, away and took off up into the air. Bunny had seen her bike, and it was totaled, with smoke streaming out and belts and machinery spilling out. There was no other way to reach her sisters beyond running at a speed slower than flying, which was also less energy-efficient.

"Goodbye, Mister Bikey," Bunny muttered as she flew away, leaving behind another family member. She could feel it; she was paying a heavy price for the expressway in the sky to her sisters.

Her flip-phone was no longer ringing. Picking it off her belt, she realized that it had been destroyed in the crash. She regretted not picking it up and hearing the voice of her Dad one last time, but it was better this way. She couldn't turn back now, she mustn't. She could feel it in her bones: her sisters were in danger.

The snowing was light, and Bunny was able to cut through it easily. It'd reminded her that spring was so close. The dark clouds had even parted briefly to reveal a golden disk in the sky that was the sun. Bunny had rarely seen the sun, and it reminded her of Icarus. There's no turning back now…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1216.**

Professor Utonium was sitting on the floor in the Girls' room. He had pulled the Powerpuff hotline down from its pedestal and was dialing Bunny's number on it, something he rarely used. Selicia sat beside him, just staring, a look of concern on her face. She had seen Thomas this way one too many times, but it took the cake this time around.

"C'mon, pick up the phone, Bunny! Please!" Professor Utonium said desperately as he'd punched in Bunny's number for the umpteenth time. Soon, there was a series of harsh cellular beeping again, indicating that Bunny did not pick up her flip-phone and that the line did not connect. "Damn it!"

He had tried several times before, before switching to calling General Blackwater about Bunny and warning him about Bunny's claim that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were in trouble.

"I know," General Blackwater had claimed then. "I've reinforced the USDO presence in the parade. I know the enemy will take advantage of it somehow. It's too big a target not to. I will look out for Bunny, but you better know that I'm disappointed in you, professor. I thought controlling Bunny was your specialty."

The conversation did not continue from there, and the professor was left to continue calling Bunny like a passive idiot, to no avail.

He slammed down the phone for the last time, frustrated, still upset at himself. While he knew it would have been understandable for him to be upset at Bunny, he didn't allow himself to do so. There was simply no room for it. In fact, Bunny had acted far beyond her years (or days), selflessly choosing to safeguard her sisters' life rather than her own. It was something to be proud of, even if it would end up taking away Bunny from him. His heartfelt like a tangled mess of wires, and it was uncomfortable. He didn't know if he should scream, or smile, or cry, or laugh, or perhaps something in between or everything at once.

"Honey, you tried," Selicia tried to comfort him. "There's nothing more we can do."

The professor closed his eyes. He couldn't help but imagine Bunny slowly killing herself while using her powers, bleeding herself dry from every orifice, while the enemy - if there were any - whittled her away like woodwork. He imagined her falling away like sand, disintegrating into a million pieces, and he'd never see her again.

"No! There's always more we can do!" the professor said as he opened his eyes wide, determined to do something, anything, even if it meant even the remotest chance of preserving his youngest daughter's life. He got up and marched out the door.

"You're going to get her?" Selicia asked as she followed him.

"And I don't care how many speeding tickets I'll get, I'm doing it!" the professor said. Selicia grabbed him by the hand, pulling him back.

"Thomas, wait!" Selicia said.

"What!?" he shouted, angry at not one particular person, and certainly not Selicia, but angry at the state of things.

"Look, if what Bunny said is true, then it's gonna be dangerous," Selicia said.

"I don't care," the professor retorted.

"I know, we just have to do it right," Selicia said. "I'll drive, and we'll need to prepare for a fight."

"We don't have time for preparations!" the professor said. "Bunny could be dying this very minute and we'd still be here, debating it!"

"I can't lose you too! Not you!" Selicia wailed, almost to the point of tears. It'd shaken Professor Utonium out of his fit of rage, reminded him that he was not alone in this. "We have to do it right. Please, Thomas. Think about Bunny and the other Girls. What if they survive but you didn't? What's going to happen to them? What about me? I can't care for them alone! I won't!"

The professor relented reluctantly in the end. Selicia was right, but neither was he wrong…


	125. Chapter 118: Flight of Icarus (Part 3)

**Chapter 118: Flight of Icarus (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1221.**

Blossom had been feeling exhausted, but the acute sensation was puzzling. She hadn't even exerted herself that much at all. The heat beams she had been shooting at the giant balloons weren't even that strong; it didn't take much to burst those rubber bubbles, and she had only blown up twenty of them.

Looking at her sisters, Bubbles, and Buttercup, they looked a little pale and spent. Bubbles was panting a little from exertion. What's going on? Blossom thought.

Blossom rubbed her eyes. Her vision was swimming and had become blurry. Noises and voices became muffled, echoing as though she was in a valley. She could barely hear Mayor Wilford cheering her on from the radio. One of her pink giant balloons was rising, and she was missing it out. She felt faint, and she would have collapsed had Bubbles not held her up.

"Are you okay, Blossom?" Bubbles asked, concerned about her leader sister. The strange thing was, she felt heavy, which shouldn't have been the case. It was normally a few hundred pounds before carrying something required conscious effort. "I could take you back to Daddy if you want…"

"Nothing, just… tired, I guess," Blossom said. She didn't want to ruin the parade, not when people worked hard to make it happen. She didn't want to disappoint her new friends - millions of them in number - by leaving prematurely.

That was when Bubbles could sense something. Like a moth drawn to a lamp, she let go of Blossom and turned to the source. It was a strange sensation. It wasn't something she could feel, not with her senses nor her thoughts and emotions. It wasn't even physical. She turned to the apartment buildings to her right, filled with cheering people even at the windows, but she wasn't even paying them any attention anymore. She looked up at the rooftop to see a strange figure up there, standing among the dark clouds, and increasingly heavy falling snow. It was somehow familiar to her, but where had she seen him before? She could vaguely make out red skin, dark hair, red clothes, black belt…thigh-high shoes, but that was just a view from afar. She knew he was monstrous.

"Blossom, Bubbles! You're missing your balloons!" Buttercup scolded the two of them as she was leaning against the railing, herself tired but trying her best to hide it.

Bubbles was fixated on the figure on the rooftop. She could hear him, hear him so clearly, even though he wasn't even speaking. The figure raised his arms, and it was only then did she realize that the figure didn't have hands. He had claws for hands instead.

"Rise, rise on my word!" the red-skinned thing said.

"Awaken and serve your Master unto death!" He said.

"Shoot your stupid balloon, you stupid Bobble-head!" Buttercup yelled at Bubbles, but she stopped when she noticed that she was standing like a statue, and her eyes were starting to glow red.

Looking all around her, Blossom noticed that the cops manning the barriers on either side had turned to look at her, all with glowing red eyes. Even some people in the crowd had gone silent and glowed bright red in the eyes.

"Bubbles?" Buttercup murmured to her meek sister, intimidated by the change in her ocular bioluminescence. She didn't respond immediately and continued to gawk at the sky with her jaw hanging open, but when she looked down to regard Buttercup, she did so with steely, unfeeling eyes.

"I serve the Master unto death," Bubbles droned in a cold tone, something that sent a chill down Buttercup's spine.

"W-What are you talking about?" Buttercup stuttered; she could feel her blood going cold.

"And he demands death and destruction!" Bubbles asserted before seizing Buttercup by the neck with both hands and lifting her off her feet, choking her.

"B-b-bu-" Buttercup couldn't even speak; she could feel her windpipe constricted, and she couldn't even breathe. She couldn't even resist, as she realized then that her strength had somehow been sapped almost entirely, or at least more than Bubbles.

"Bubbles! What are you doing!" Blossom cried. She took Bubbles by the arms, trying to break her hold on Buttercup, but Bubbles simply shifted Buttercup to her left hand and elbowed Blossom in the face, nearly sending her over the railing.

For a moment, all Blossom could see were stars, but the next moment she could see something she would rather not. Buttercup had taken the opportunity to break free from Bubbles' grasp. She aimed two punches at Bubbles, her fists connecting with her face, but doing nothing. Bubbles grabbed Buttercup by her bob cut, wringing her hair and slamming her head against the railing before slugging Buttercup in revenge over and over again - three times, then four, then five, until bruises were visible instantly.

Before Blossom could do anything, Bubbles had already thrown Buttercup overboard and vaulted over the railing to pursue her. Blossom surveyed her surroundings again, only to witness the chaos. The tanks up front were opening fire with their turret cannons at cars charging at them, taking them out. Machineguns atop the turrets, manned by USDO tank crews, began opening fire at red-eyed police officers and civilians as they charged the tanks. Though poorly armed compared to the USDO tanks, they were too numerous and they were everywhere, and the machine-gunners atop the tanks were picked off one by one by small arms fire. Unaffected officers were quickly killed off, and the spectators who were previously cheering for the Powerpuff Girls began to scatter amid the violence.

Behind her, mayoral bodyguards and USDO soldiers began opening fire to cover Mayor Wilford and Miss Bellum, slaughtering the red-eyed while they, too, were being mowed down by the dozens, all the while getting swarmed. While the mayor was driven away in a hurry, running over more hostile red eyes, the few surviving mayoral bodyguards and USDO soldiers that were left were held down and beaten up with fists and feet. They were stabbed and clubbed to death. Those in the humvees and APCs were more fortunate, and could only do so much with their machineguns before they, too, were swarmed. However, they were able to save themselves by driving off.

Blossom would have cried on the spot because of how her parade was ruined, but her attention went back to her sisters. The float had stopped long ago; the driver had likely fled as soon as the near-supernatural event started. At the foot of the float, Bubbles was still savaging Buttercup, kicking her over and over when she's down.

"Bubbles! What are you doing!? Stop hitting Buttercup!" Blossom cried out to her meekest sister, wondering why she was acting out all of a sudden. When Bubbles wouldn't listen, Blossom vaulted over the railing and landed on top of Bubbles.

Bubbles, however, was unrelenting. She tried to push Blossom off, but she was lying on the floor face-first, which made for an awkward position, and Blossom was able to restrain her arms. When Buttercup saw what was going on, she helped Blossom by restraining Bubbles' legs. All the while, a battle between the addicted and the pure raged on. Slowly but surely, a wall of red glow was closing in on them.

"The Master must be pleased! I must bring Him pleasure!" Bubbles yelled madly as she continued to struggle to no avail. Blossom flipped her over and pinned her arms to the floor again.

"Bubbles, stop! You're scaring me! Why are you doing this!?" Blossom tried to reason with her. She'd seen her eyes once more, which was glowing red, but she couldn't understand what was going on. Had Bubbles been sneaking in more His Secret 2.0 again?

"Betrayer! We are one with Him! We must join him!" Bubbles screamed. Blossom couldn't understand what she was blabbering about. Him? Who's Him?

"Wake up, Bubbles!" Blossom shook Bubbles, inadvertently freeing one of her hands. Bubbles took the opportunity to deliver a punch across Blossom's lower jaw, at which point Blossom learned her lesson and restrained her free arm again… with difficulty and only after taking another hard punch to the face. "Ow! Bubbles! Don't you remember me!?"

Bubbles' struggle didn't stop immediately. She continued blabbering something about a 'master' and 'serving Him', but eventually, it all came to a stop, as if she was coming out of being hypnotized. Her eyes, however, were still glowing red.

"B-Blossom?" she cried, confused. "W-what's h-happening to me?"

"Bubbles? You were hitting Buttercup and your eyes, they're-" Blossom said, but a change in Bubbles' eyes interrupted her. The reddish glow was fading away.

"I- I'm so sorry, Blossom- I felt really angry all of a sudden- angry at you, I couldn't control it!" Bubbles cried. "I wanted to kill you- you and Buttercup both- I still WANT to kill you!" She struggled against Blossom again, pushing with a burst of strength. Even Buttercup had to hold on to her legs and brace against it to keep her from freeing herself.

"No, Bubbles! You don't want to! Remember all the fun we've had? How we helped each other?" Blossom said. "I'm sorry for everything I've said about you! I shouldn't have! I've forgiven you, I really did! We've forgiven each other, haven't we?"

"Y-yeah, Bubbles, we've had lots and lots of fun," Buttercup said from below, playing along so that she could get Bubbles to calm down and get their sisterly issue over and done with. Looking all around her, she could see where the real fight was. Police officers were murdering each other. At one corner, she could see several normal-eyed officers getting restrained from the back while red-eyed officers were pummeling them with nightsticks or stabbing them repeatedly in the chest or stomach. The USDO tanks up front had stopped firing both cannons and machineguns. Red-eyed civilians and officers alike were now trying to climb on top of the tanks to reach the hatches on the turrets. Some of the 'possessed' had only just noticed them.

"We did…" Bubbles said. She'd calmed down somewhat, the red glow almost gone, replaced with the baby blue Blossom knew and loved. "But I… I can feel it inside me… S-so much anger and hate… I can't-"

"Bubbles, I'm going to let go now - don't punch me, okay?" Blossom said, before making good on her word. Letting go of Bubbles' arms, she waited, and stared Bubbles in the eyes, worried and uncertain if Bubbles could control herself.

Bubbles stared back, at first furrowing her brows in rage and hatred as she gritted her teeth. She grabbed Blossom by her long, flowing red hair - her eyes glowed red, becoming brighter at first before coming back down, disappearing entirely. Bubbles finally relaxed, breathing heavily from both exhaustion and exertion.

"Urm, Blossom, I think we need to go!" Buttercup warned Blossom, not because she cared about her, but because she needed as many hands around her as she could get with a storm raging all around them.

"Right," Blossom stood up before lending Bubbles a hand. Bubbles took it, and Blossom pulled her to her feet. However, something was wrong. Bubbles was HEAVY, too heavy that she nearly toppled over. She had to brace herself on the ground just to pull Bubbles up, and it took immense effort even though Bubbles wasn't even a hundred pounds with armor and weapons.

"We need to fly up and think about this!" Blossom decided, before kicking herself up into flight mode… Only to fall back down to the ground, landing on a knee.

"Blossom, we can't!" Buttercup said, panting. The armor and weapons she was carrying were beginning to weigh her down. Something was very, very wrong. "I think we've lost our power!"

Blossom turned to Buttercup while still rubbing her knee. It didn't take long for her to realize that she was right. The glow of Buttercup's lime green eyes was dimmer than usual, though not totally out yet. She felt uncomfortable too, and it was only now that she realized that it was due to her weight - and the weight of her gear, which felt like a slow, crushing force. Turning to Bubbles, Blossom noticed the same thing with her - the baby blue glow was really dim, almost nonexistent.

"B-but… how?" Blossom stuttered as the horror of it all began to sink in - she had never been without her powers before, and the thought of not being able to fly, defend herself, or even run faster than a creaky old bicycle terrified her.

That was when the tanks up front fire a volley of shells from their cannons. The explosive force had the effect of knocking every red-eyed officer around and on the tanks to the ground. With that, the tanks drove off in a hurry, leaving the Girls behind.

"B-Blossom, what do we do?" Bubbles mewled as she realized that all attention had turned to them. Like zombies, the 'possessed' cops and spectators were rising from where they had fallen before, hatred riddling their faces.

"Run!" Blossom yelled, before taking off for the disabled vehicles the tanks had shot at before. Bubbles and Buttercup followed, with the former tripping on a dead body midway, unused to running without her enhanced strength. Blossom picked her up quickly before they resumed running for cover…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1229.**

Bunny had arrived at the scene of chaos by following the trail of steel barriers and Townsvillans fleeing the center of trouble. She could hear, through the near-impenetrable sound of singing crickets in her head, endless gunshots, and when she focused her hearing, she could distinguish Duranium guns among them. Stopping to hover high up in the air, she wiped sweat and blood off her nose and mouth as she zoomed her vision in to survey the battlefield.

The first thing she looked for was her sisters. She searched the ground for them, first focusing on the Powerpuff float, only to find it abandoned and in the process of getting vandalized by red-eyed citizens and cops, who were trying to pull down the plaster statues of her sisters. She followed what she thought would be the path her sisters would take to escape, only to find them way off course, hiding behind a car and exchanging shots with red-eyed cops. Why they hadn't flown off yet was a mystery, but then she saw that their eyes were dim and they appeared unhealthy. Something was wrong with them.

They weren't alone, however. Normal-looking cops were backing them up by taking cover behind more car wrecks to hold back what looked like hundreds of His Secret 2.0-affected cops and citizens.

There were a good number of snipers on rooftops on either side of the victory trail, and they were all shooting. Bunny did not know which of them were shooting at her sisters, but she could guess that the ones with Duranium anti-material rifles were aiming at her sisters. She'd decided then, that she should just take out the snipers using Duranium on the principle that they were a threat to her sisters, and those without couldn't kill her sisters anyway, friend or foe. There were two rows of them on either side of Payne Avenue, downtown.

She flew to the roof of the first building on the left, landing only to save on the time she had left to live. A sniper, a spotter, and a third accompanying officer occupied it. Without mercy, without hesitating, she shouldered her modded MP5 and gunned them down while she was running towards the next rooftop.

By the time she had flown and landed on the next building, the sniper team there were already onto her, firing freely with Duranium rifle, M16, and shotgun. She immediately felt a graze wound on her arm as she returned fire, falling them within a mere second. She crouched, pausing briefly to inspect the wound on her arm. The armor there was penetrated. Tearing it off, she saw a huge ravine carved into her left upper arm, and blood was flowing freely. It wasn't fatal, and neither did the Duranium bullet hit an artery. That was all that mattered. Wiping off more blood that was bleeding from her nostrils, she got up and ran forward once more.

The next sniper team was inside the building, holed up in the apartment's superintendent room. Vaulting over the edge, Bunny flew a curve before breaking through the window of an apartment unit next to the sniper's. Charging straight through the wall, she had caught the sniper team there by surprise, managing to charge into the sniper himself, breaking the specialist officer's back before gunning down his two friends, who fell simultaneously.

"Bunny, this is General Blackwater. Please respond, over," a voice came up in Bunny's earphones, linked to her radio. Bunny did not want to talk to him, not because she hated him, but because she knew she was operating without permission, and that it was possible for the professor to call him and convince him to get her to stop.

She had always known. General Blackwater loved her like his own daughter, even though he hadn't said it, even though he tried his best to hide it with gruff mannerisms and coldness. He wouldn't want her to die, so he would likely want her to stop.

But the temptation to speak to him one last time was too big.

"This is Bunny," she replied on the radio while she was taking cover under the window of the apartment complex she was in. "Hey, General Blackwater." She could barely stop herself from crying. It just occurred to her that she never got to see General Blackwater and Corporal Nana Weston one last time.

"Bunny, what's your status? Over," the general asked. Bunny wasn't sure what to say. Should she lie to keep him from worrying? Or should she tell him the truth, as a good girl should?

"General… Mister Blackwater… I…" Bunny said, before stopping for a moment. She wanted to say that she was fine, but her unignorable migraine headache, the constant bleeding from her nose and mouth and wounds, and the pain at every inch of her being told her otherwise. "It's bad, Mister Blackwater."

"I know. Bunny, you need to stand down. Prepare for medevac and we'll handle the rest from here," General Blackwater said. Bunny looked over the window sill and down at where her sisters were holed up at. Most friendly officers and USDO forces were either overwhelmed or routed. They were being shot at. She sunk back down to the floor heavily. "General Blackwater, I… I can't. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup can't wait, and there are snipers all around them. It'll take too long for your soldiers to help them…"

There was a long-drawn sigh from the other end.

"Is that your tactical assessment?" General Blackwater asked, more stoic than usual, which meant that he was likely hurting inside, all torn up.

"Yes," Bunny said.

"It's flawless, Bunny," the general praised her. Walls were breaking down. "I see that I can't stop you. Go ahead, but please… stop once you've secured your sisters. I want you to get out of this one."

"Thanks, Mister Blackwater," Bunny said, and before the general could sign out, she went on: "I- I love you, and Miss Nana too. I wish I could see the two of you, but I don't think I will…"

"Don't talk like that, Bunny. You won't be defeated. We'll have a debriefing yet, kiddo. Save your unit, and I'll come get you personally," the general said, before pausing. When nothing else was being said, he signed off. "Over and out."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1233.**

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, by some miracle, were able to retreat to a relatively 'safe' distance before they could be piled on. Hiding behind a car, they began exchanging fire with red-eyed police officers and civilians who had salvaged firearms from the corpses of the fallen.

Being unable to use their ocular beams or even something basic like super-speed or super-strength, they were forced to fight conventionally using firearms. Blossom had long exchanged her Serbu super-shorty with Bubbles for her XM4 Carbine, while Buttercup had her Stoner LMG, though she was having difficulty wielding and firing it.

Buttercup found it heavy because of her diminished strength, so she'd clambered into the car they were taking cover in and mounted her machinegun on a door to fire from there. Blossom and Bubbles hid at either end of their car, popping off shots. The recoils of their weapons dug into their shoulders, and the weight of their armor and armaments were beginning to tire them out - had the slow disempowerment process been complete, they wouldn't even have been able to move with all the weight they had thrown on top of them, but they had lucked out.

Shots were raining down upon them, from where their float and the USDO tanks used to be, as well as from above, without them knowing it. That was until a Duranium bullet ripped through the roof of the car and struck Buttercup in the thigh. Screaming, she clutched the bleeding hole as she curled up into a fetus on the driver's seat, only to realize that there was another hole in the back of her thigh; the bullet had gone right through.

Blossom and Bubbles did not fare any better, as Duranium bullets began hunting after them. Blossom felt her ear getting ripped by a projectile, while Bubbles took one in the shoulder, slamming her against the car. Realizing what was going on, they piled into the car, firing off rounds only occasionally and through the windows. Watching helplessly, they saw that the officer friendlies who were helping them fight back the tide of 'possessed' officers and people were getting gunned down from all directions. Bodies hit the floor by the dozens as the Girls' confident hit rock-bottom. The red eyes were growing closer, and ever angrier and hateful.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1236.**

Bunny was crouching on threes, on the roof where the last of the left-hand apartment snipers were stationed at. They lay behind her in a bloody heap, filled with bullet holes made by her MP5. She had only taken down half the snipers looming over her sisters, and she was already feeling... hollow. She had to constantly wipe blood away from her face. The blood was coming from her eyes and ears now. Her migraine was flaring ever stronger, and she couldn't quite think. Thankfully, she didn't need to think much, as there was only one thing to do: kill everyone who threatened her sisters.

Reloading her MP5, Bunny took off once more, flying to the buildings on the other side of the street. Some of the snipers were now shifting their focus on her, something that Bunny welcomed, as it meant less Duranium bullets aimed at Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.

On the way to the first building, she flew in with her SMG blazing, peppering another three-man team with lead while at the same time avoiding Duranium with her speed. Landing on the first building to the right, she unclipped a flashbang and hurled it across one rooftop to the other, blinding some of her targets. She leaped in, slaughtering all with guns. Picking up one of the dead sniper's weapon, a conventional sniper rifle carried by the spotter, she took aim at one of the snipers on the fourth and fifth buildings to the right and fired, hitting home, before cycling the weapon at great speed and firing again, in effect turning a bolt-action rifle into a semi-automatic rifle. Three were killed before the rest hid. One of them fired back, putting a Duranium bullet through the concrete barrier she was hiding behind as well as her kidney, but Bunny didn't even flinch as she did the same thing to the rest of them.

When most of the snipers had been killed, barring just one more team, Bunny slumped down, leaning against the roof's concrete barrier, clutching her kidney, stemming the bleeding there in vain. It was as if her blood was leaking more freely now. She felt faint; she felt like closing her eyes and going to sleep for a little while - but the sound of her sisters' screams focused her concentration. There was still one more sniper team firing Duranium shells at them - she could see it when she brought up her x-ray vision.

Switching her MP5 for the China Lake grenade launcher on her back, Bunny ran towards the third building and jumped over the railing, letting herself fall. With a burst of X-energy, she thrust herself through the wall-high window of the next building, smashing through the glass whilst covering her face with her arms and curling up her legs. She landed in a roll before getting up again, only to be met with both familiar and unfamiliar faces…

Near the last team of snipers was Mojo Jojo, accompanied by a Foundation operative known as Naga, who hissed at her the moment the serpentine woman noticed her.


	126. Chapter 119: Flight of Icarus (Part 4)

**Chapter 119: Flight of Icarus (Part 4)**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1241.**

"I got her," Naga said confidently as she unstrapped her stolen USDO XM4 Carbines, all four of them, pointing them at Bunny.

"That you will, for I, Mojo Jojo, shall slay the Powerpuff Girls!" the enhanced chimpanzee said as he got up beside the sniper team to aim his speargun contraption at Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.

"No!" Bunny yelled as she raised her China Lake grenade launcher, but by that time, Naga was already closing in on her, all four guns blazing like a walking machinegun turret. Bunny fired her launcher anyway, but the explosive shell simply struck Naga in the chest without exploding, its safety mechanism a disadvantage for once. However, it'd stumbled Naga, and Bunny took the opportunity to retreat and bring up her cloaking field.

"Come out and fight me, you lil' rascal!" Naga had fallen on a knee, but she got back up while rubbing her chest and began firing her four rifles at random, spreading a wall of bullets across the room, which was a small office area above a local art gallery. Some of the bullets had struck Bunny in the back while she was trying to get behind Naga, causing her cloaking field to falter.

"Gotcha!" Naga cried before concentrating her fire on Bunny, her ammunition unending due to the drum magazines she had installed on the captured USDO prototype rifles. Bunny leaped up into the air and fired another grenade, but once again, Naga had been charging towards her, closing the distance and preventing the grenade from reaching arming range. This time, she had braced for impact so she didn't stumble.

Bunny fell to the ground, but her footwork was distracted, confused, and she crumbled on the floor. Her chest pains had been flaring up mid-combat, which had broken her concentration. Hiding behind a desk, she wiped her nose once more with her upper arm to clear the blood that had been streaming down once again. With that, she rose out of her hiding place, pumping her grenade launcher, but Naga was already onto her at melee range, having thrown down her rifles for four Duranium sabers.

Before Bunny could fire, she felt two swords cutting through her launcher, breaking it, forcing her to fly back while wiping blood that had been pooling in her eyes.

Even now, Bunny hesitated to do it. She didn't want to use it, but she had to. Pulling out Ace's sword from its sheath on her hip, Bunny wielded it two-handed in a ready pose before flying at Naga. Bunny could immediately feel a wave of renewed energy over her. Her eyes burned with energy, with hate. Unknown to her, the glow of her eyes had changed from purple to hellish red.

However, it almost felt insufficient; it was like fighting against a one-woman squad of musketeers or trying to swim through a forest of blades. She had tried getting close and directing a slice at Naga, only for her strike to be parried and followed up by twice as many counterstrikes, which Bunny had to dodge or block with blade or energy shield, tiring her out even further.

Screaming, Bunny surged forward once more, aiming a slice at Naga's hip one-handed while using her purple energy shield offensively, bashing Naga with it, but Naga had neutralized her attack by slapping her sword arm away with a saber and sneaking a stab in Bunny's side while distracting her with her other two swords directed at her shield. How Naga could coordinate such strikes, Bunny could barely wonder with her migraine headache.

Bunny backed away, limping and clutching her side. Her wounds were mounting, on top of the disease that was eating away at her from the inside. Naga smiled, knowing that she had gained the upper hand. Well, four of them. It was only a matter of time before she could kill Bunny as revenge for the Powerpuff Girls' humiliation of her.

In the meantime, Mojo Jojo had fired off one bolt. He cussed a short time later under his breath, muttering something about how the wind had shifted and caused him to miss by mere inches.

Bunny looked on helplessly as disaster and failure seemed just seconds away. But she dug her heels in and gritted her teeth. No! She will not give up on her sisters! With that, she charged at Naga one more time, this time aiming for a more cunning approach.

That was when everything around her fell away, and time crawled to a standstill. Bunny herself couldn't even move any further, much less reach striking range. The world became a blank white before it faded into darkness. In the distance, fires were forming a circle.

Bunny found that she could move again, and so she approached the circle of fire cautiously. The fire raged, burning harder than before until it became blinding. Shielding her eyes, Bunny stared cautiously at the circle of chaos. Vaguely, just barely, she could see a figure rising from the ashes if there were any ashes in this strange world.

When the fires died down somewhat, Bunny found that she was standing before the Red Man, a huge, muscled creature in a red jacket, thigh-high boots, his face with its goatee framed by white fluff. He was a horrifying thing; slightly hunched, with sharp spines rising from its back. His eyes glowed red menacingly. He opened his arms, which ended in crab-like chitinous claws as if expecting a hug. Bunny didn't take it.

Did he save her? Bunny wondered. She didn't want to be saved. She wanted to help her sisters. They were still in trouble, she could feel it.

"Poor little Bunny, bleeding and dying alone…" the Red Man said, with a hint of sadness and sympathy in his voice. Bunny felt drawn to it. Sympathy had been hard to find in the past couple of days, even from those who called themselves her family.

"Mister… What's happening? Why am I here?" Bunny asked. For some reason, she could feel her pain and suffering lifting, if just for the moment.

"I've been watching you, dear Bunny…" the Red Man said as he approached her. Bunny shrunk away from him - she had been fighting her way through so many people who meant her harm, so it was hard not to anticipate more. "Don't be afraid, dear girl. I have something to show you."

The Red Man came closer, and Bunny let him. He twirled his claw, and from behind it, four more appeared, forming what looked like clawed fingers. Standing next to her, he placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling Bunny in. Together, they started walking, walking away from the fire. It grew darker, and darker until Bunny was forced to put her night vision goggles on, but the Red Man pulled the gadget up.

"Where we're going, we don't need eyes to see," the Red Man said. Bunny couldn't understand what he meant. Weren't she seeing things with her eyes now? Or did he meant that this was all a dream, as unreal as some of her fancier imaginations?

Before Bunny knew it, she was back at her house, right in front of the door to her room. Things were different. It was warmer for one, just like the mythical spring that Dad and her big sisters had talked about.

She thought she could hear the laughter of adults and the giggles of little girls. Bunny wanted to open the door, so much, just to see them one more time again. She looked up at the Red Man, who smiled down at her with red, glowing eyes.

"Go right ahead, don't let me stop you," the Red Man said.

Bunny opened the door, and she was greeted by the yellow light of a spring dawn. Her family was huddled around a model train set, facing her. Dad had the remote, and he was controlling the train, getting it to slow down or speed up, or even light up. Mom was cheering him on, mimicking the sound of an old locomotive. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup looked on in amazement, giggling at the peculiar machine and the funny doll people in the carriages. All of them looked up at Bunny as she walked in shyly, smiling at her.

"Oh look who's here!" Mom said.

"Our dearest, favorite rabbit!" Dad said.

"Our most favorite, bestest sister!" Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup said simultaneously.

Before Bunny could join them, she could feel the Red Man's chitinous hand on her shoulder once more, caressing her.

"This is what I offer, Bunny Utonium," the Red Man said, in a sing-songy voice. "A loving family. A home and hearth you can always go back to. Happiness and joy, unfailing."

"What do I have to do?" Bunny mumbled. She was only focusing on half her attention on the Red Man's offer. The sight of her family, so perfect, so loving, so welcoming, was so enticing, too enticing. They stared at her and the Red Man, as though everything was normal.

"Oh, nothing, just… join me and rule over the world. That is your birthright," the Red Man said. "We, as these… ants that infest this world call the Shadowkin, are the superior race. Join me, and I will preserve your family… Give you the happily-ever-after you so wish. I can even fix you, give you the lifespan your human overlords had stolen from you by their ignorance…"

It sounded like a good deal. It was all she ever wanted - to save her sisters and to protect her family. She was very tempted to take it. Looking out one of the oval windows, she mulled over her decision. She saw the azure sky greeting her with clouds that looked like open arms, the sun rising to smile at her from the horizon, bathing the entire neighborhood in a warm, cozy glow. She stared hard at it, but the more she stared at the scene beyond her window, the more it seemed to change.

Walking up to the window, she saw that the neighborhood was largely abandoned. The usual USDO security detail at The House was missing. The roads, previously a smooth sea of black asphalt, was in disrepair with potholes filled with… blood and bones. The houses all around hers had huge holes in them, with broken windows that were boarded up. There was a decaying corpse hanging on the window sill of one.

Even more shocking was the house directly opposite hers. It was the exact same one! The difference, however, was the clone house on the opposite side of the road was dilapidated, same as the others, with broken windows and…

Bunny could see the skeletons of Dad and Mom huddled together in bed… her bed. Her older sisters huddled around their pink table, which was a sad, discolored thing. They were hunched over plates filled with some kind of meat, and they were eating it with their bare hands. All their eyes were red. Bubbles was the first to see her - oh how emaciated she looked! - and when she did, Blossom and Buttercup turned to regard her too, from the alternate universe across the street.

"Well? Take your time to think about it… BUT NOT FOREVER!" the Red Man shouted the end of his sentence, as though to show his annoyance at Bunny, briefly but just enough for her to know who was in charge. Bunny, however, wasn't cowed, and she already knew her answer.

"No," she simply said, before backing away from the fake family put up by the Red Man, backing away from the Red Man himself. "You're a liar. You're not trying to help me, or my sisters!"

"I see. So, your powers are stronger than I expected," the Red Man said. "I never thought you could see through the little play I put up for you."

"You're just like Mister Feig!" Bunny continued to accuse.

"DO NOT COMPARE ME TO THAT PUNY LITTLE INSECT!" the Red Man exploded, loud and fiercely enough that he had Bunny cower a little. All around them, The House began burning away, not in a blaze, but like ember and paper. The perfect family that Bunny could only dream of withered away quickly, becoming dry husks before turning into skeletons and even those would disintegrate. Then the Red Man smiled. "Such a shame, really… You have so much potential… So many possibilities… But now, you will die…"

"I don't care," Bunny said defiantly, standing proudly with her chin up. The Red Man, however, appeared just as confident, just as strong, as if her rejection didn't matter at all. It probably didn't to the Red Man.

"Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup will die!" the Red Man said, and only then Bunny's defiance knew its limits. "They will either die or kneel before me as their true lord and master… I WILL MAKE SURE OF IT!"

Just like that, the nightmare was over, and Bunny found herself back where she was, with Naga flying towards her (not literally) with her four Duranium blades ready to turn her into shredded meat. The transition was confusing, and where she was previously on the offensive, Bunny found herself hesitating and going into the defensive, still reeling from the Red Man's threat and her rejection of his offer.

She had to parry Naga's four swords while she was still fighting off the shock from the threat, and for the longest moment, it was like walking on a tightrope without powers; Bunny could barely keep up with the sword blades coming for her from random directions, like a nest of snakes ambushing their prey. Eventually, Bunny's defense gave way and she felt a sword skewering her in the torso, going right through, buried into her, all the way down to the sword guard. Shocked, Bunny looked up at Naga, who smirked with triumph.

"Die, pesky little bee!" Naga shouted as she continued to push the sword still, though it couldn't go any deeper. Bunny's free hand found its way to one of Naga's four wrists, gripping it, but it was a weak grip, barely felt by either party at all. Naga twisted the sword, causing Bunny to scream at the top of her lungs before going limp. "That's right, obey the kiss of the sword! Join your sisters, you're first in line!"

As Bunny faded away, an image of her sisters came up in her mind. She'd heard them screaming with her enhanced hearing not too long ago. All kinds of scenarios sprouted up in her mind. How bad were they wounded now? That was juxtaposed with memories of the sweeter past, a past that, somehow, Bunny wished upon a star, could become the present still.

No, not yet.

Bunny opened her eyes, wide, the red glow shining more prominently than ever. With renewed strength, she sliced off the arm Naga used to stab her with. Taking advantage of how Naga had let her guard down and opened herself up, Bunny proceeded to slice off two other arms on the opposite side of the Chemical W-enhanced woman.

Reeling from her sudden loss of limbs, Naga tried to counter-attack, but her sudden disadvantage when it came to the number of arms made it a feeble attempt that Bunny intercepted easily by grabbing her remaining arm by the wrist. With Naga thus restrained, she sheathed Ace's sword in her chest, right where the heart was. In a reversal of roles, Bunny continued pushing the sword in deeper and deeper, until it sunk to the guard. She continued pushing Naga, pushing her until she was right at the edge of a broken wall-high window.

With a final push, Bunny threw her off the building… and with a sigh, allowed Ace's sword to follow her down. At the same time, the red glow in Bunny's eyes faded, replaced with her usual glowing purple. The taint was gone, and it was as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders.

The now-amputated woman screamed all the way down, but Bunny did not stay to watch her fall. Backing away, Bunny fell to her knees. Looking down, she inspected her abdominal wound.

Naga had stabbed her through the liver. It wasn't immediately fatal. It'd turned out to be a bargain. As long as she could live long enough to save her sisters, nothing else mattered. Gripping the handle of the saber in her abdomen, Bunny pulled it out in one motion. She didn't even have the strength to scream anymore.

Blood flowed from the wound, but also from Bunny's nose and mouth. She felt empty. Her time felt limited. She swayed on her knees, the temptation of sleep overtaking even the Red Man's tempting offer.

Not yet.

Bunny brought up her enhanced hearing with difficulty. Her sisters were still screaming frantically. Blossom was issuing panicked orders, Buttercup arguing desperately and Bubbles was sobbing depressingly.

Not yet.

With aching difficulty, Bunny got up to her feet, to be met with a shocked-looking Mojo Jojo as she shouldered her MP5.

"Naga…?" Mojo Jojo uttered in shock as he realized that his friend and savior was nowhere to be found. Seeing Bunny, anger welled up in him.

"You! I'll KILL you for that!" the enhanced chimpanzee hollered, and immediately began to insert an agony bolt into his speargun. Bunny limped towards him nonchalantly, swiftly putting bullets into the last snipers, forcing its last member to retreat. Before she could do anything about Mojo Jojo, however, he had already reloaded his speargun and fired an agony bolt at her.

The bolt dug through her chest, going right through her left lung, but Bunny did not let that fall her. She continued forward, firing the remaining shots in her MP5 at the chimpanzee, which made him flinch and snarl in annoyance. He was largely bulletproof but slightly less so than the Powerpuff Girls. It'd hurt more and if Bunny was lucky, might have given him bruises or broke the skin… at the first layer.

Bunny's stride was broken, however, when Mojo Jojo pressed a button on his speargun. She could hear the bolt starting up, of sawblades poking out of the shaft of the bolt inside her, which began spinning. She screamed as she was brought low to the ground.

"How does that feel, little girl!?" Mojo Jojo cackled as he held the button down, an evil grin spreading on his green, mutated face. "How does my intellect, my intelligence, feel!? I have bested you yet again! I am triumphant! I AM THE VICTOR! Taste more of my ingenuity!" Mojo Jojo pressed another button on his speargun. There were cracks of electricity inside Bunny. Electrodes electrocuted Bunny as she screamed yet more.

"You will pay for killing my friend," Mojo Jojo said as he continued holding down the button. "I shall exact my toll in the form of your sisters! Your kin will die by my hands!"

The bare mention of her sisters and Mojo Jojo's threats steeled Bunny's resolve. Pushing herself up, Bunny stubbornly began coming towards Mojo Jojo again, unsheathing her Duranium combat knife. Threatened, the enhanced chimpanzee began reloading his gadget.

Bunny gripped the shaft of the bolt in her chest. The pain was unimaginable. She could hear the constant whirring inside her, feel her flesh being agitated, blood pooling inside her as it was disrupted from clotting. Dragging her feet, Bunny tried to reach Mojo Jojo as fast as she could, but he was faster. He fired another agony bolt into her, this time penetrating her in the stomach. This, too, was activated, and soon Bunny could feel sawblades tearing at the walls of her stomach, electricity coursing through her gastric fluid and blood and guts.

But Bunny kept on walking, raising her combat knife to strike.

"You stubborn, persistent little-" Mojo Jojo's voice trailed off as he began fiddling with his speargun again, frantically reloading it with another agony bolt, which he pulled from a quiver on his belt. "How about an experiment? We shall see if a third projectile will stop you!"

Bunny was so close that she could taste it, but Mojo Jojo had the benefit of perfect health. He fired another agony bolt at her. Bunny had shielded herself this time with a burst of energy she couldn't afford, but the purple energy shield that was formed wasn't a strong one. The bolt broke through and embedded itself in Bunny's arm, going right through her forearm.

With a few more steps, Bunny brought her combat knife down on Mojo Jojo, though the chimpanzee was able to seize her knife-arm by the wrist. Putting her all into the attack, however, she was able to overpower the monkey, plunging her knife into his abdomen.

While Mojo Jojo was howling in pain and still in shock from the wound, Bunny let go of the knife. Reaching for the bolt in her forearm, she ripped it out, her mouth agape from the pain, but she didn't stop. She plunged that, too, into Mojo Jojo, this time through his side. Falling on his knees, Mojo Jojo stared in disbelief at Bunny.

"How… is this… possible?" Mojo Jojo said.

Without a word, Bunny punched him in the glass dome, breaking it and injuring the humongous brain within. Her fist had sunk into the gray matter, causing it to bleed. Mojo Jojo fell to the floor and on his side, with blood pooling in the glass helmet protecting his exposed brain. He was twitching by the end of it and foaming at the mouth. His speargun had clattered to the ground. Bunny stomped on it, breaking it. The bolts in her had turned inert after that.

Exhausted, Bunny fell to her knees. She couldn't keep her eyes open. Happy memories flooded her mind. Her life flashed before her eyes.

"Dad…" she mumbled as she was nodding off. She remembered how he would spend every waking moment with her during the early days, how cozy it was, how comforting. And now she felt so cold, so alone.

Not yet…

Bunny snapped back awake when she heard it. Her sisters were screaming for help. Things were going critical right now. She could hear it. They were being stomped on, kicked around, and generally being savaged and beaten up.

Getting up once more, Bunny contemplated removing the bolts in her but decided against it. She remembered Dad telling her about Mojo Jojo's bolts, how dangerous and insidious they were, and never to remove them or they would do even more damage.

Limping towards the nearest window, she clambered over it and forced herself to fly towards her sisters…


	127. Chapter 120: Flight of Icarus (Part 5)

**Chapter 120: Flight of Icarus (Part 5)**

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1245.**

"Keep firing! Don't let them get close!" Blossom yelled while she was reloading her MP5. Her hands had never been clumsier or slower. Even holding the MP5 was difficult as it was never designed for little children. She was on the passenger seat of the car and using the door as a firing port.

"I AM FIRING!" Buttercup yelled back from the shotgun seat. Her thigh had stopped bleeding at least, but it'd hurt like hell. Even if everything was all over, she wouldn't feel like moving at all. Spent bullet casings were fast filling up the feet compartment as she unloaded her ammunition on the swarm of red-eyed officers and civilians massing against them, most of whom were hiding behind cover as well. Some of them had even pushed or driven in more cars to act as cover, though their remaining self-preservation instincts had prevented them from driving into the Powerpuff Girls and the depleted forces assisting them.

Bubbles was behind Blossom, clutching her shoulder. She had been shot there with a Duranium rifle by snipers on top. Who it was, she had no idea, but it reminded her of the first time she was close to death. Her face was drained of color more so than her sisters. She shook with fear and anxiety as she jumped with every burst of arms fire.

"Bubbles!" Blossom shouted. "Bubbles! What are you doing!? Start fighting back!" Blossom began shifting herself towards Bubbles and pulling her up front. She was successful in jolting Bubbles awake, and she began firing her shotgun at the closest enemies.

Bullets kept putting new holes in their cover. Some had missed, but many struck home. The only use of the car doors was to reduce the pain the bullets were causing. What was more alarming were the holes punching the roof of the car, which were the size of adult fists; what crazy projectile that was making those holes had also gone through the bottom of the car. The Girls were too occupied to study them, but they were holes made by Duranium bullets.

Those were just the icing on the cake, however. As Blossom was firing controlled bursts from her MP5, some kind of arrow whisked past her shoulder, less than a foot from hitting her. The large projectile went straight through the car door behind her, thankfully missing Bubbles as well. The arrow was stopped only when it embedded itself deep in the road. They didn't know it, but Mojo Jojo was trying to pick them off from an office building.

"This is General Blackwater. Blossom, please come in," The Girls' radio came to life amid the sea of death. Never in their short lives would they think that they would be glad to hear his voice.

"Mister General!" Blossom shouted into the radio in panic. "We're stuck in a car and everyone's attacking us! HELP!"

"Help is on the way. I'm gathering some reinforcement all around you. Can you last ten minutes?" the general asked.

"NO!" Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup cried in unison.

"You're just going to have to. If I don't amass my soldiers and send them in force, the risk to their lives will be too great, over and out," the general came and went, cold and logical.

Shortly after that, a particularly suicidal man in jeans and jacket came sprinting out of cover towards them, arms splayed out with grenades in his hands. Blossom and Bubbles were quick to shoot him, but he just kept on coming. He was able to toss the grenades into their car before they finally put him down.

"Out of the car! Quickly!" Blossom screamed as she pushed Bubbles towards the other door. They clambered out of the window like rats out on a sinking ship. Buttercup was slower, and she had to abandon her Stoner light machinegun just to reach the driver's seat. Both Blossom and Bubbles had to help pull her out, and in the nick of time, too. The grenades detonated in the car, shredding the interior apart. Had they stayed in there, they would have been done for - they wouldn't have been killed, but to take two grenades while bereft of most of their powers would likely mean unconsciousness.

"That's not good…" Bubbles muttered.

"Ya think?" Buttercup said.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1248.**

Police Chief Paul Feig was pissed. The Powerpuff Girls' demise were much slower than expected. From his radio, he could tell that things were going tits up. The same shadow hunter that had been trying to assassinate him had wrecked his plans and killed off many of his trusted associates at the rooftops. If this kept up, reinforcement from both TPD officers loyal to the city and the USDO would pour in from all sides, and then he would be found out.

It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. He was told that the Powerpuff Girls would be easy pickings once they were disempowered! But they were still fighting, and fighting so hard it was putting his drugged officers to shame, both the voluntary and the unwitting.

He had been watching the Girls from a bakery along the parade route. Unaffected police officers were constantly arriving at the Powerpuff Girls' aid. At some point early in the battle, they had even driven in some police cruisers to act as cover and concealment, but their numbers were never great as they kept getting picked off. SWAT and STARS officers were cut off from the Powerpuff Girls - they were on the other side of the mass of red-eyed druggies, too busy fending for themselves. By now, the numbers on the Powerpuffs' side were thinning out as the corpses piled up. Now, there were just four survivors stubbornly shooting back at the red-eyed horde.

A plan began to form in Feig's mind. Yes! If the plan wouldn't work on its own, then he would force it to work! And once the Powerpuff Girls were dead, he would collect his bounties from the Foundation, Lombardi, and Cult of His Promise and defect to the USSR before the TPD caught on. He would secure his place in Russia as an adviser to the Soviets and retire a rich man in Moscow!

Exiting the bakery to the protest of those ignorant of his motives, he kept himself low, following the police barrier on his side of the road. Without a dose of His Secret 2.0, he was just as likely to be attacked by the addicts as the Powerpuff Girls and their diminished police escort. Poking his head out briefly to see if any of the addicts were looking his way, he climbed over the barrier clumsily - the barrier wasn't designed to be scaled with ease, much less by a man rendered as unfit by office work as he was - and began making his way towards the Powerpuff Girls, darting from car to car. Shots were fired his way, which made him hurry along in utter panic as too many years off the streets and too much of a mercenary attitude had softened him.

Eventually, he was able to take cover beside the Powerpuff Girls. He drew his revolver out as he leaned against the engine section of the car, which provided the best protection against small arms fire.

"Mister Feig!" Blossom exclaimed in surprise, glad to see another ally.

"No time for hugs and kisses," Feig said. "What's the situation?"

"It's BAD!" Bubbles shrieked, still in tears, still clutching her shoulder. Half the singlet underneath her armor had already turned a dark shade of maroon. "I got a big boo-boo!"

"Yeah, and something got me in the leg," Buttercup said in between firing shots above the car with her pistol.

"Could be worse, way worse," Feig brushed them off, taking pleasure in hinting at what was to come without the Girls even suspecting his involvement in their terrible predicament. "Well, why aren't the three of you flying away or using your laser eye thing?"

"We can't fly," Blossom said. "Our powers are gone and we aren't even that strong anymore…"

"What do you mean? How much strength do you have left?" Feig asked as he rose to fire off shots from his revolvers, but he was shooting above the heads of the affected, smiling as he was facing away from the Girls. So, the other elements operating alongside him had their own plans after all. Everything was falling into place.

"Like, my guns and stuff are getting really heavy…" Blossom said; she was exhausted and felt ready to faint from having been shot at so many times. The Girls' armors were riddled with rips and holes, their Kevlar pockmarked and cracked.

"Is that so?" Feig said knowingly. It was time to finish off his plan… and the Powerpuff Girls. Taking peeks at the other police officers in the vicinity, he noticed that they had barely acknowledged him, perhaps too busy fending off Him's puppets, surviving by the skin of their teeth. Well, not for much longer.

He turned his revolver on the closest patrol cop and put a bullet in the back of his head. He turned to the other three and shot them sequentially, with the last cop only barely realizing what was going on when he saw his comrades go down before he himself was shot in the face.

"MISTER FEIG! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Blossom, Bubbles, and even Buttercup screamed in unison.

Looking down at the now-helpless Powerpuff Girls, Police Chief Feig simply smiled.

"Never got the chance, but I'd like to thank the three of you for saving me back at that factory," Feig said, as he was breaking his revolver open and filling it up again with a speedloader. "You know, for beating up that horrid sister of yours and risking your lives for little old me… Even though you probably shouldn't have." He shut the revolver and knocked the hammer back.

Blossom's face began to change when she realized what Feig meant, to one of pure, abject horror.

"Bunny's right! You ARE a bad guy!" Blossom exclaimed. She could feel a flash flood of regrets and sadness, then pure rage at Feig and his betrayal. She had been too busy to think about it until now, that Bunny had been completely right from the start, about how policemen could be bad, and now Feig.

She raised her MP5 at Feig, but her movement was slow from the lack of Chemical X and exhaustion, and Feig was able to push it aside. He tore it out of Blossom's grasp, tossing the gun aside, before picking up Blossom and using her to ram Bubbles and Buttercup, who fell in a heap. Putting a knee and his weight on the heap of Powerpuff Girls, he began stripping them of their weapons - Bubbles' shotgun and their pistols - before punching Blossom twice in the face for good measure.

Picking Blossom up, Feig slammed her against the car. Blossom had started sobbing and bawling, more than shocked by the turn of events.

"You know, I think I like you better this way," Feig said.

"W-why, Mister Feig?" Blossom asked, still crying. "Wh-Why d-do you hate us all along? I t-thought we were friends!"

Feig chuckled briefly at what Blossom said, finding it appropriately childish and naive. Leaning on Blossom, he wiped the tears on her face with his other hand.

"There's one thing you gotta learn in the business, dear girl," Feig said. "There's nothing personal. Well, I do think that you kids are a spoiled bunch who's got everything handed to you, but that's not why I decided to do this." He looked behind Blossom, and saw that the horde of red-eyed addicts was beginning to crawl out of their covers; they were beginning to catch on that no one's firing back.

"B-but w-why?" Blossom cried.

"Money," Feig admitted. "Anyway, I guess it's time I take my leave then. It's been a pleasure knowing the three of you." With that, he punched Blossom in the stomach once, then a second time before dropping her. Bubbles had been hugging his leg, intent on detaining him, but he was easily able to shake her off and even kick her in the face. Buttercup was trying to stand and put up some kind of resistance but was prevented from rushing him by her injured leg. Feig thought it cute and shot her in the chest three times, dropping her to the ground again.

Backing away, Feig pulled out a metal syringe. He had prepared the dose for himself, according to the advice of his contact in the Cult of His Promise. It was a low dose, not enough to make him high nor cause him to be puppeteered by whatever malevolent force behind the red-eyed - if there was any such thing as the cultists claimed. The small dose, however, was enough for him to camouflage himself from the His-Secret-affected.

Injecting himself with it and dropping the syringe nonchalantly, he backed away further to give the red-eyed horde room as they began swarming around the now-helpless Powerpuff Girls. He thought it amazing that these 'chemical zombies' were still intelligent unlike how the zombies of Hollywood were usually portrayed. Knowing that firearms were useless against the Powerpuff Girls even in their disempowered state, they began kicking and stomping and kneeling down to punch and pummel them.

The Girls were screaming helplessly, too eerily, like real girls.

"Help us! Please! Someone HELP US!" their words melted into one, sometimes merging. "HELP! HELP US! SOMEONE HELP US!"

They sounded like real girls, enough that Feig was beginning to feel sorry for them, but he backed away, all the same, climbing over the barrier again to watch from a safe distance, a distance where the Girls' cries and screams of help were drowned out by the snarls and growls and yelling of the red-eyed.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Downtown. Payne Avenue.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1253.**

Somewhere, sometime, it had begun snowing heavily, perhaps for one final time. Cutting through the falling snow, Bunny swooped down towards her sisters, pushing herself far beyond her limit, far beyond her exhaustion. She could see them, a horde of glowing, red-eyed police officers and denizens crowding around her sisters, who were completely surrounded and dwarfed by the adults who were beating the absolute shit out of them. Bunny could see them using her x-ray vision. They were bruised and bleeding - the addicts were made strong enough by the drugs to do some damage.

Flying towards them at breakneck speed, she charged up and fired ocular laser beams at them liberally, all the while feeling needling pain in her eyes and head as she did so. Heads and limbs were lobbed off; ten or twenty of them fell in pools of blood and severed body parts.

Bunny flew by and landed some distance from the horde, which had just noticed her. She didn't give them time to react. Reloading her modded MP5, she began gunning them down, two or three of them fell at a time, until there weren't many left. By the time Bunny ran out of ammunition, there were only five or six of them left, who Bunny began taking out with her silenced pistol. One made it to within melee range… who was promptly dispatched with a Duranium knife to the heart. Sidestepping the last of Him's puppets, she let him fall where she used to be anti-climatically before sheathing the knife.

Wheezing and coughing blood by the buckets and hunched in intense pain, Bunny limped slowly and near-lifelessly towards Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, who appeared badly bruised and bloody. Were they alive? Was she too late? The youngest of the quartet looked on with pure terror in her eyes… until Blossom opened her eyes, and for once in a long while, their eyes met without hate.

While all this was happening, Police Chief Feig watched in disbelief as his plan had fallen apart once more. Ever since he'd spotted Bunny swooping down from above, he'd shifted himself to a more advantageous position, following along the police barriers on his side of the road until he'd ended up in front of the car the Powerpuff Girls were hiding behind. From behind him, the last of his snipers came up to him.

"Chief!" the police sniper reported. "There was a fourth Powerpuff! She escaped!"

Feig had no time to entertain the sniper, who, from what he heard from his radio, was the last of his co-conspirators. Neither did he wish to tolerate his failure nor the splitting of the bounties. Pulling a knife out from inside his trenchcoat, Feig whirled around and stuck it into the sniper's throat before seizing the Duranium anti-material rifle in his arms. 'Thank God it's Duranium,' Feig thought. It was a godsend to him. Pulling open the bolt, he saw that it still had a Duranium shell chambered. He checked the magazine. The chambered round was the only one he had to work with.

Popping out from cover, he ran as close to Bunny as he could. She appeared distracted, and he was able to run past the car. Raising the Duranium rifle, he aimed for the center of mass in panic and fired, believing that he had no time to do a proper hit for how fast enhanced individuals tend to be.

Panicked though the shot was, it was impossible to miss. The bullet had ripped straight through Bunny, piercing straight through her heart.

Bunny stumbled, clutching her chest, with blood flowing freely between her fingers. Looking up from Blossom, she fixed her killer's gaze on Feig, who appeared paralyzed and shocked that Bunny was still standing. Limping forward, Bunny glared at him with such hate that it could melt all the dying snow of Townsville. In fact, it seemed as if even winter itself was fleeing.

"H-how is that possible?" Feig stuttered, his lips trembling not just from the cold, but the coming doom in the form of the seemingly indestructible Bunny. He dropped the Duranium rifle, which might as well be a useless trophy from then on. "You're- you're supposed to be dead!"

"I know," Bunny said, before raising her trembling suppressed pistol and putting a few bullets in Feig's heart. He shook from taking the bullets, but remained standing, as though a statue, still staring in horror at his executioner. Bunny shifted her aim up before firing a few more bullets. One of them went clean through Feig's skull, and with that, he fell face-first on the snowy road lifelessly, the look of horror forever carved into his face, a sight for the coroners.

It stopped snowing after that. It had finally stopped snowing.

Looking up towards the clearing sky with tears in her eyes, Bunny thought to herself that she had finally done it, and now she was free. She had saved her sisters. Her pistol dropped from her numbed hand, clattering on the ground before she dropped to her knees.

Once more, images of better yesterdays flashed before her eyes, of Dad teaching her how to take her first steps, how to say her first words, of Blossom teaching her how to stun with a heat beam, of Bubbles letting her piggyback on her in the wind tunnel, of Buttercup finally deigning to look at her for once… Of many more things that she had strived to fight for and preserve.

As the first pure sun rays of spring were cast down from the heavens, Bunny fell on her back, resting on broken asphalt, unable to even feel the agony bolts still sticking out of her chest and stomach. She could see the sun, so clearly and not obscured by clouds for once. Daedalus… Dad. She wept, knowing that she had to make him sad to do what she must. If only she could see him one more time and say she was sorry…

Over her, Bunny could see a dark shape now, covering the sun. She could barely see now, but the shape came closer. It was Blossom, kneeling down beside her, with tears in her eyes, and a look on her face that was sort of an odd cross between sadness and a smile.

"W-where's the rest… of them?" Bunny said, blood streaming from her mouth, still, noticing that two of her sisters were missing and she was fearing the worst. "Are they… are they alive?"

"The rest of us, Bunny. The rest of us," Blossom said as streams of tears continued to fall. Her regrets were still fresh in her mind - she had been wrong all along, and now Bunny had paid the ultimate price for it. "We're fine now… You've saved the day, Bunny."

Soon, Bubbles had joined Blossom, kneeling down next to Bunny. Buttercup stood over them, her apathy thankfully obscured by Bunny's blurred vision, which was fast diminishing even further, and before it would be shut out entirely, Bunny drank in the image of her sisters, still alive and well. It was all she ever wanted.

That was when an uneasy and painful realization struck her even during her twilight. Naga and Mojo Jojo. She hadn't checked if they were dead for good. Then there was the Red Man, who lingered somewhere out there, unchallenged, his laughing threats still echoing in her mind. That was not to mention his countless minions in the City of Townsville and the many factions of the criminal underground still operating in the city.

Bubbles reached for the bolt buried in Bunny's chest, looking to help remove them, but Bunny seized her hand before she could.

"Leave it- It is over-" Bunny cried. "I- I can't fight anymore. They're still out there. The Red Man- he's coming. He'll kill Dad and Mom and destroy everything and- I wish I can stop Him but I can't-" Bunny grabbed Blossom by the strap of her armor desperately, afraid to let go least she fall away forever, wheezing and breathing with increasing difficulty.

"Bunny…" Blossom cried, struggling to even speak. Looking down at Bunny's wounds, it looked like nothing she had ever seen before. It was like Bubbles in December 1988 but a hundred times worse. She held Bunny's head lovingly and decided on the only other thing she knew. "I know I'm not as good as you, but I promise… I- I'll protect our family."

"We will," Bubbles, too, was crying. "We promise…"

"Our family…" Bunny said, savoring those words and the meaning they held. For the longest time, she had struggled to find even a modicum of acceptance in her sisters. She closed her eyes, using what remained of her tumor-ridden brain to imagine a vague scene of her with her entire family, happy together, happily ever after.

"Our family," Blossom affirmed, her voice shaking with so much terror at what was inevitably coming.

"Our family…" Bunny loved those words, like the greatest going-away gift there was.

For a moment there, Bunny thought that she had slipped into nothingness. But not yet. Blossom's voice had drawn her back.

"Blossom?" Bunny uttered. Even talking felt barely possible now.

"Hmm?" It was impossible for Blossom to talk too because of what was coming. Death had never hit her so close to home before. Bubbles had already reached that point, and all she could do was to cover her mouth with both her hands to stifle her cries while she wept utterly. Buttercup, affected by the deluge of sadness coming from her sisters, wiped a tear that had inadvertently fallen from her left eye. It was indeed a loss that Bunny was dying, Buttercup thought. She was a good fighter, after all, far better than her, she could only grudgingly admit. It would have been sweet and fun to learn something from her.

"A-am I- Powerpuff?" Bunny could barely ask. She was spending even more energy just to keep her eyes open, just to see her sisters one last time. Tears of blood streaked across her cheeks.

"Yes, Bunny, you're a Powerpuff Girl, you always were," Blossom declared finally, with Bubbles nodding vehemently and Buttercup kneeling down next to her too, such that Bunny got to finally see her face again.

"I- I'm g-glad," Bunny uttered, closing her eyes, smiling.

"You're a Powerpuff Girl," Blossom repeated before continuing on. "And you're better than the three of us put together." Blossom sat down, squeezing closely next to Bunny. "General Blackwater said you'll be leading us soon and he was right Bunny. I would love to follow you when you get to be the leader. I'll follow you all day and all night and- Bunny?"

Something was wrong. Blossom turned to look down at Bunny. Her chest had stopped heaving, and she had stopped breathing.

She had gone.

She had gone and Blossom wasn't sure how much of what she said was heard.

* * *

All around the battered and bleeding Powerpuff Girls, police cruisers and USDO humvees and APCs were gathered. General Blackwater and Corporal Nana Weston came out in one of them, both with looks of horror in their faces. In the distance were gunshots and explosions still, as regrouped USDO and TPD units began pushing back at the remainder of the crazed drug addicts and whatever criminal elements that were having free reign in the chaos.

Among the vehicles were three Lamborghini speed transports, from which emerged Agent Blake and his men, but all they could do now, for all their heroism, was to witness the aftermath of a situation he couldn't even try to salvage.

Detective Mullens' muscle car was part of the relief force, but similar to Agent Blake, there was nothing he could do but watch. Olivia and Stanley Talker were with him, as a family more than a group of law enforcers.

Just on the periphery was a white family sedan, from which out came Professor Utonium and Sergeant Selicia. The sedan itself had a few broken windows and bullet holes - they had to fight through a crowd of addicts before they could get through, and that was only after they were aided by a detachment of PTF guardsmen.

Together, they ran up to the Girls as quickly as they could, only to find what they most feared. Blossom was crying whilst sitting beside Bunny, who was lying on the ground, a pool of blood underneath her. Bubbles was brave and had fought on, and she was attempting CPR on Bunny, in full ignorance of Bunny's numerous fatal conditions. Buttercup seemed largely unaffected, but she, too, appeared distressed as she sat with her legs outstretched, deep in thought. They all looked battered, their armor and uniform peppered with bullets and holes and tears.

All the professor and Selicia could do were to stand by their adopted daughters, for they were far too late. Bubbles turned to look at them, confused as to why the professor, who she knew was a doctor too, wouldn't help.

"Dad! Bunny's not breathing!" Bubbles cried. "Why won't you help me!"

Professor Utonium stood stock still, looking away, his mind still stuck down in the labs, still stuck at that moment when he'd warned Bunny to not leave The House, only for her to do the opposite, only for her to be right about the threat her sisters faced - and for him to be right about the only possible outcome of it all…

"DAD!" Bubbles screamed at the top of her lungs while she was still pumping Bunny's chest.

"Stop, Bubbles," the professor mumbled. "Just- just stop." He'd taken a brief look at Bunny, and it was clear that there was no hope left. On top of the Chemical-X2-induced diseases she suffered, there were too many wounds, most of which were critical wounds that, altogether, would have made survival all but impossible. And even if she were to come out of this breathing, what then? Her diseases would have caught up to her within hours from all her exertions.

"But Dad!" Bubbles cried stubbornly. "I can save her! I can save Bunny!"

"END STAGE BRAIN CANCER!" the professor screamed at her. "LEUKEMIA! AUTOIMMUNE DISORDERS! There are tumors ALL OVER HER BODY! PERFORATIONS IN EVERY MAJOR ORGAN! HER HEART HAS HOLES, BUBBLES! LOOK AT HER! I TOLD YOU TO STOP! YOU CAN'T SAVE HER!"

Bubbles was dumbfounded, and so were Blossom and Buttercup. Selicia backed away from him as if he had just turned into some eldritch abomination. Even the USDO soldiers and Agent Blake's squad had fallen silent as if to give him distance and the bereaved their space. Only the sound of distant firefights and some sirens persisted.

Bubbles burst into tears if she wasn't in enough of a watery mess as it was. It was then that Professor Utonium realized what his trauma had caused him to do.

"Oh, honey, my sweet-" the professor said, shocked at himself and how his grief had twisted him inside out and he didn't even realize it. "I didn't mean to-"

Then it happened, without warning, without a preamble. Light emerged from Bunny's corpse, rays of white light were shooting out from random parts of her body at first, before there was an explosion of energy covering everyone right up to the outer circumference of the ring of military and police vehicles forming around Bunny.

Blossom had been covering her eyes as it happened. It took the longest time ever for the white light to fade away, and when she did, she opened her eyes and stopped covering them. Looking at Bubbles and Buttercup, they'd done the same. But something else caught her eye.

For a brief moment, Bubbles and Buttercup's eyes were shining purple, just like Bunny's, before returning back to normal, well, subnormal, considering that much of the glow in their eyes was gone from Anti-X poisoning.

"B-Blossom?" Bubbles muttered meekly, thankfully shocked out of her crying fit.

"Your eyes-" Blossom said.

"Yours too, Bloss," Buttercup said. "It was purple, like, for a second."

None of them, however, were too fond of investigating that phenomenon any further. They fell silent once more, and gathering around Dad was all they could do when he called them over. Huddled together as a family, Professor Utonium, Selicia Goodwin, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup stood beside Bunny, and one by one, they said their final goodbyes to the latest addition and earliest death in the family…

As spring finally arrived, the sun, stronger than before, mourned with them.

**END OF ACT 3: DOWN THE BUNNY HOLE**


	128. Chapter 121: Severance (ACT 4)

**(To view the artwork/cover page for Act 4, go to the Archive of Our Own version of this fanfic and the same chapter)**

* * *

**ACT 4: SPRING CLEANING**

**'You can get much farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with a kind word alone.' -Al Capone**

* * *

**Chapter 121: Severance**

**The City of Townsville. Central District. Kingdom Hospital.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1315.**

Elodie 'Princess' Morbucks had been waiting for the past half hour. At first, she believed that Bubbles and her sisters, Blossom and Buttercup, would be early. They tended to be, which she had always believed was a sign of their friendship, which grew deeper with each play date. But as time wore on, one minute dying after the next, her heart sank. When the clock struck 1 o'clock, which was the agreed timing that the Powerpuff Girls would visit her, she believed that they would fly through the doors of her ward any second now, but the minutes continued to disappear without a trace of her BFF, nor her sisters, who were close seconds in her thin, thin book of friendship.

Then a full half-hour passed, and the clock fingered the '3' on its face nervously, and now Elodie believed that they were just held up by something, not that she had any way to tell. Things had been strange lately in the hospital. Her father hadn't stopped by to visit her in the morning. He would normally do so every single day. In fact, she hadn't had any visitors at all - some of her mansion's staff would come in as they were very fond of her, and she, of them. Neither were even fan mails from the city coming through. Normally, she would receive at least a few a day. Her position as the city's wealthiest little girl, being the daughter of the city's wealthiest local, and her brief stint as a child model, had made some impression.

Elodie thought she knew what loneliness and isolation were, but now she truly understood. All she had for company all day long was the steady beeping of her own heart hooked up to the ECG, her breathing apparatus, and the silent, grim-looking doctors and nurses who would come in to check on her occasionally. They weren't even the same ones as the last time she was here. Those doctors and nurses from last year were at least friendly. These doctors and nurses of today couldn't even crack a smile to reassure her.

Even the television and radio in the ward were removed, as they were deemed too agitating for a girl of her condition. They had been for the past week. All Elodie had for entertainment were a few books, some drawing blocks, and a box of cancer-friendly crayons. But she was done reading those books… multiple times over, and she had expended all her drawing blocks. All she could draw were the Powerpuff Girls, and she had gotten pretty good over time. If only they were really here…

The double doors to her ward swung open. For a second there, she had hoped that it was the Powerpuff Girls, but she was quickly disappointed. A few doctors and nurses came through instead, their faces like stone, all cold and grim. If the TV and radio in her room were removed as hazards to her health, then those faces should be too! That was Elodie's impression, and she thought childishly that maybe they should wear masks like those from the fundraising ball she had made possible for The Powerpuff Girls, the same one that… made their father angry and separated them for a time.

"Miss Elodie Morbucks, it's time for your procedure," the head doctor said. Something seemed off about him, but the Princess couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Can't we wait a little longer?" Elodie pleaded with the doctor. "Please?"

"I'm afraid not. Your condition is precarious as it is," the doctor said, still looking down at her with those eyes - those grave eyes. There was something in them that the Princess couldn't quite figure out, and she didn't like it. "Any further delay in the procedure will be too dangerous."

"But my friends are coming…" the Princess mewled, powerless both physically and emotionally. She couldn't even believe in her own words anyway since the clock had given her no hope, and neither did her best friends.

"It appears that they are not. You said one o'clock, and we gave you your time. It is now one-sixteen. One-seventeen now," the doctor said while looking at his branded wristwatch. "It happens, I suppose. I'm sure they are preoccupied with something… more important to them-" The doctor stopped talking all of a sudden as if he realized that he had said something wrong.

What the doctor said broke Elodie Morbucks, and she did not resist any further as they put her on a little kid's wheelchair and wheeled her out.

Emerging out of her ward, something she hadn't done so since Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had last visited her, Elodie was struck by the intense white light at first. She was wheeled past groups of people, families both hopeful and bereaved, past friendlier medical staff who were, unfortunately, not in charge of her. She hadn't seen this number of people in a long while.

They went past the radiology room, but wasn't that where they were normally supposed to go first? They'd gone way past, down to a floor she wasn't familiar with, to a corner of the hospital she had never seen before. She was eventually brought through another set of swinging double doors, where the interior told her everything about where she was.

For some reason, she was brought into a surgery room, one of the smallest in the hospital, and it was the kind that didn't come with a theater for supervising staff and visitors. It was a closed-up affair, and there was something very, very wrong that even Elodie, a 5-year-old, could tell.

When Elodie expected to be carried up to the surgical bed, the doctors and nurses accompanying her hurried out instead, leaving her alone. The doors behind her swung just as hurriedly. Looking behind her, she could see the head doctor talking to someone… someone in an ominous, gray suit.

"She's all yours," Elodie heard the head doctor mutter. "Do whatever you want with her."

"Don't look so down, doctor," the other man, who she had never seen before, said. "I'm sure you know about her chances with your treatment option. One in ten, was it? At least with our way, she'll stand a better chance, even if it's tantamount to a… flip of the coin. Even if she might… turn into something else."

"You've corrupted me. I used to think that I'm a good man," the doctor said, still down despite the assurances he received, but the man in the gray suit simply laughed.

"Is that how you see it? Any man could easily be bought with the kind of money I gave you - and for what? For giving this rich, undeserving brat a better chance at living? At becoming something else other than a dying aborted fetus?" the man in the suit scoffed at him. "Now off you go. You should be satisfied that you've gotten some life advice from a man like me. That doesn't happen very often…"

Elodie was already on the move when she heard the men talk. They weren't going to cure her! They were going to do things to her! She didn't know exactly what, but the unknown was more troubling and outright terrifying to her than what she already knew. If they weren't going to try to help her, then they must be looking to harm her, she feared.

There was another way out of the surgery room. Going through another set of double-doors, she found herself in a kind of preparation area for surgeons to suit up. She could see the surgical scrubs and gloves lining one side of the wall.

"Where the hell is she?" Elodie heard the man in the suit said. She hurried through the exit, emerging into the corridor.

In her panic, Elodie hadn't thought of a plan, not that she had ever needed to plan for her survival in her life. She simply ran, barefooted, barely clothed in her purple patient's gown.

"Stop her!" she heard the doctor yell. "She's over there!"

The Princess ran. She couldn't help but wet herself on the way, and she hadn't got a pair of diapers on. She had never been pursued like this before, and this was precisely only the second time she was in any danger at all. Vaguely, loosely, an idea for salvation formed in her mind - it was the only thing she could think of: The Powerpuff Girls.

Turning the corner, she panted as she ran as fast as she could. Loud footsteps from her pursuers weren't too far away.

There was the sound of phones ringing. The Princess ran towards it, busting through another set of doors, her entire body flaring up from the pain, as she searched the room for the phone.

Oddly enough, there was no one in the room. It was as if the entire floor had been vacated. The phone was lying on a desk, and the room was a kind of office of some sort, likely used by hospital admin staff for making arrangements and putting day-to-day affairs in order. Clambering up on a swivel chair, she reached for the phone and hastily dialed a number - Bubbles' flip-phone number, which the sweetest of the three had provided her just in case she needed it. The Princess had memorized it, and could still recall it easily even in her panic.

"Where's that lil' shit!?" Elodie heard the Suit Man cuss, not too far away from the admin room. Dragging the phone along, she hid under the desk, waiting out the dial tone and beeping of the phone, which threatened to make her scream from frustration and terror for how slow it was.

_Ring… Ring…_ The door slammed open. Slow, menacing footsteps echoed towards the center of the room.

_Ring… Ring…_ Elodie could see the feet of the Suit Man. Grey leggings, fine leather shoes.

_Ring… Ring…_ It came towards her. The phone's cord was a dead give-away, and the swivel chair useless in concealing her.

It was at this moment that a voice came through, and Elodie's heart leaped. Bubbles would come to the rescue, she would! She had always believed that Bubbles, if no one else, would be the first person to jump to her defense.

"Hi! Thanks for calling, but I can't talk right now-" came Bubbles' high-pitched, cute and perky voice.

"Bubbles! I'm in big trouble, I-" Elodie whispered into the phone, but it seemed that Bubbles wouldn't stop to listen.

"Please leave a message! Hugs and kisses!" and with that, as quickly as Bubbles' voice came up, she was gone.

Hands shot into Elodie's hiding spot just as the phone had connected, pulling her out from under the desk roughly. "NO!" Elodie screamed.

"Bubbles! Please!" she screamed into the phone one last time.

"To leave a message for subject Bravo-Four-Nine, please press one…" a robotic female voice took over.

"There you are, you spoiled little brat!" the man yelled as he dragged her away, and the phone was left behind. Not even a voice message could be left behind, as it required a button to be pushed to start the recording…

Meanwhile, as Elodie was dragged all the way back to the surgery room, anger a sense of being betrayed boiled inside her - the kind that she had never felt before. They PROMISED! Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup had PROMISED to come! Had they kept their promise, she would have been saved - she wouldn't have been kidnapped and brought under the control of these men, who surely had only ill intent for her!

"BUBBLES!" Elodie screamed as she was brought through the doors into the surgery room, her hands at one point stubbornly clinging onto the swinging door, but her fingers were easily pried off the door.

The last thing on Elodie's mind as she was forcibly gassed was that she had been betrayed and that she would never trust any so-called 'friends' again. She would make them sorry, really sorry!

Especially Bubbles, whom she thought was her BFF.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1346.**

Professor Utonium had driven his entire family back home after… IT happened. The entire family was silent in the car, except for the occasional outbreak of weeping among the Girls. A USDO armored military ambulance had been trailing behind them all the while, carrying IT. The professor himself was in tears, though he'd been holding most of it back. The occasional tear would escape him, but that was about it. He had to drive, after all.

When they reached The House, finally, the professor got Selicia to escort the kids in. Selicia had to carry Buttercup in her arms due to her injured thigh, which made walking impossible for the tomboy. Blossom and Bubbles followed her with their head held low, the latter still clutching her shoulder in pain. The Girls were all bloody and battered from being savaged in a no-holds-bar beatdown perpetrated by dozens of drugged officers and Townsville citizens.

Blossom stopped.

"Dad, aren't you going to fix us up?" she asked.

"Get moving, Blossom!" Selicia snapped at the leader of the Powerpuff Girls. "You know your Dad's busy with something more important!"

"Mom will take care of you, Blossy," Dad said without turning to look at them, though Blossom didn't know why. Her only clue was how defeated he looked, with slumped shoulders, and perhaps ashamed, with how he hid his face. "I've already called Doctor Simmons in the car to take a look at the three of you later."

Selicia was right. He had something else to attend to, something of utmost importance now. IT was a burden that he, alone, must carry for the family; Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had seen enough, too much for a trio of four-month-olds.

Going around to the back of the ambulance that followed him, he stood there and waited. He didn't have to wait for long, something which he wasn't sure he should be grateful for. The doors opened and out climbed a pair of USDO medics, who rolled a gurney out, a gurney that was used to transport IT.

"Do you need some help with the body, Utonium sir?" one of the medics asked.

"No, I'll take it," Professor Utonium said, almost absent-mindedly, his eyes dead. The medics said nothing more. The professor approached IT, the small body on the gurney, which was stored in a black body bag, stained at places by blood. Two arrow-like prods were still poking out from the middle, and the body bag couldn't be fully closed. The professor scooped it up with an arm under the crook of the knees and the back, hugging the body closely, afraid that he would have to let go again.

After that, the professor began his longest walk down to the labs, first past the melting snow on his lawn, then through the front doors of The House and the living room. Selicia and the Girls weren't there. They were upstairs, far away from IT. He took the lift installed beside the stairs leading down, before crossing the lab floor.

It was then that he finally arrived at the medical side of the lab, where he deposited IT on one of the hospital beds, where Bunny used to be just before… IT happened.

The professor unzipped the top portion of the body bag. A pale face could be seen when he did it, a face that was oddly at peace. She… Bunny… looked like she could just be sleeping, but the professor knew better. Seeing her face broke him. His hand went up to his mouth to stifle a cry as he turned away from the body and walked rapidly away to his desk.

It was much, much harder than he anticipated. He knew he would be emotionally affected by the sight, but he thought that he had accepted Bunny's fate. The Chemical X2 which was used to create her had sealed her fate, made it an inevitability. As he'd discovered, he could never accept it. He turned to look at his blackboard. There were chemical and mathematical formulas scribbled hastily with chalk there. It wasn't old. Those had only been there for a few hours. He had been working on a cure for Bunny ever since he discovered her condition last night - with the little time he had, it had all amounted to nothing as it would be weeks before some kind of hope could be found, and that was being liberally optimistic.

The atoms and numbers on the blackboard had pulled hours from him, and even now, he felt tempted to sink more hours into it…

But there was one final thing he had to do for Bunny. Due to the chemical make-up of her body and the classified nature of Bunny, Professor Utonium had to take charge of her embalming and preparation for the military funeral General Blackwater had planned for her. Anyone else would have been a security risk, and neither would they know what to do with Bunny's body.

"Thomas…" a voice called out to the professor from behind while he was hunched over his desk, in anguish from the recent tragedy. It was Selicia, he knew from the vice. She was holding a parcel out to him. "I found this in the mail. It's… for Bunny."

The professor did not so much as look at her. He simply grunted his approval.

"What about our wedding?" Selicia asked.

"What about it?" the professor asked dryly, still refusing to turn around even for his other half.

"Are we still going ahead as planned?" she asked.

The professor did not reply. Eventually, she left, understanding what he meant. It took the professor some time before he found the courage to turn around and face Bunny's corpse again, and that was when he discovered that Selicia had left the parcel beside Bunny.

Standing up, his body aching from his exertions earlier in the day, he padded over to the parcel. Looking at the label, he saw no return address. The symbol on the label told him everything he needed to know. The symbol itself was an odd marriage between the stout shield and eagle of a defense organization and the atom and DNA of a science lab. The Institute. What are they doing sending him a parcel?

It had piqued his curiosity, however, dulled by grief though it was. Ripping it open gracelessly, caring little about such nuances because of everything he'd been through, he found a purple box under layers of bubble wraps. He unlatched the box and opened it.

There was a pair of braces and a card. The professor set it down. It'd slipped his mind. He had sent the designs for Bunny's braces for fabrication in the Institute. Since the braces were made of Duranium and finely detailed, it required a manufacturing capability that the USDO simply did not possess.

It came too late for Bunny.

With shivering hands, the professor picked up the card that came with the braces and opened it up. He was immediately greeted by a quick sketch of a short boy in lab scrubs and a tall girl in a security uniform. There were words below, written in dark blue ink and in blocky letters.

'Dear Professor Thomas Lewis Upton,

Forgive my lack of professionalism but I finally found out your actual name! I have always been a huge fan of you and your work! Anyway, I pen this down with much glee to note that I was put in charge of this project by my creators in the Institute as part of my education and training in the sciences and manufacturing of technology.

I am proud to present these Duranium braces, which I made through the use of an unheard-of technique only the Institute could make possible - digital modeling and robotic sculpturing! It is from my understanding that it is meant for your creation, a certain Bravo-50, also known as Bunny Utonium if my research is accurate. I have also unearthed the fact that she is a fine specimen of Chemical X enhancement rivaled only by yours truly. I would be glad to meet her one day!

This project had also the unintended effect of uniting me and my sister creation under a common goal! While her contributions to the Duranium braces are minimal at best, as she focuses so much on the aesthetics of the braces, the project has, at the very least, put an end to the menace that was her running all around my lab like an idiot, pushing random buttons out of a sense of misplaced and warped curiosity and damaging equipment in her sheer, wanton ignorance. Well, at least temporarily.'

The handwriting from here onwards had changed drastically from block to cursive. The color had gone from dark blue to bright pink.

'HI PROFESSOR!

I hope you like our artwork lots! We spent a long, long time on it! I heard from my bro that it's for a girl like me who likes ballet! I helped him decide on the color and the 'design' because what does he know about what a girl likes?

Hope Bunny likes purple! (My bro was going to make it silver - EWWWWW and yucky yuck yuck!) I've also added some bunny pictures I drew myself in the braces because bunnies as in Bunny, haha, that must be really funny and smart, right? Anyway, that's beside the hearts and stuff on the braces. The pictures are really, really tiny because there isn't much space on the braces, but I bet her smile will look nicer because of it!

Maybe we'll get to meet her one day! My brother isn't very good at ballet at all and I can use a dancing friend.

Anyway, I'm done! Xoxoxo

Xoxoxo

Xoxoxo

Xo

Smile! :o)

With regards,

Subjects D-1 and D-2

The Institute'

As if the recent death of Bunny wasn't enough on its own, Professor Utonium was met with constant reminders of it. The possibilities of what could have been haunted him like a ghost. He knew who subjects D-1 and D-2 were. Those two subjects were so stable and successful even though they were created with a Chemical W base that a new branch of classification was created just for them. Though they had few real enhancements to speak of, they would have made for some good company for Bunny. Well, not anymore… because Bunny's gone.

Coming back to Bunny's corpse, the professor unzipped the body bag all the way. Gently and with respect, he lifted her while he was removing the body bag. She was cold to the touch.

She was still in her (un)powered armor, which had been damaged in her last fight. Taking a sampling kit from the nearby table, he began scraping off some dead cells for analysis…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**11 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 1427.**

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup had locked themselves away in their room, with Buttercup, once again, hiding in the closet with Blanky. Blossom and Bubbles were sitting at their pink round table, where Bunny's chess set was placed.

"She really loved this game…" Bubbles said as she stared at the checkerboard and army pieces set on top of it. "We used to play together… I just wish we finished this game…" The pieces, were, indeed, still in the very same positions before Bubbles and Bunny had their falling out.

"We've never really played together that much…" Blossom reminisced about her past with Bunny. Much of it had been spent in resentment and jealousy, and now there was no way to make up for that fact. "I really hated her and I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have said all those mean things to her…"

Blossom was about to break out in some fresh tears when Bubbles came up and sat beside her, hugging her from the side.

"But you told her everything that's nice, Blossom. She died knowing how much you really cared about her…" Bubbles tried her best to comfort Blossom, but the truth was, both of them were shaken, and beyond consolation.

The door to the Girls' room was slammed open. The Girls look in its direction and saw Mom, who was holding a tray of bowls and glasses. Blossom and Bubbles could smell porridge and orange juice. They immediately stopped talking and looked away from Mom, tense.

"Buttercup! It's lunchtime!" Mom shouted as she padded towards Blossom and Bubbles. "Buttercup!" The sound of scrambling could be heard from within the closet. The door opened after that as Buttercup emerged from her girl-cave.

Selicia set down the tray while Buttercup limped towards the pink table. Her thigh had been bandaged up, but it was only a band-aid solution, or rather, the first-aid solution, as Doctor Simmons was still on the way. The moment Buttercup got to the round table, she began heaping spoonfuls of watery wheat and rice into her mouth, devouring her meal like a girl-sized piranha. Blossom and Bubbles, on the other hand, weren't as ravenous.

"What are the two of you waiting for? It's lunchtime!" Selicia shouted at Blossom and Bubbles, frowning as she crossed her arms.

"Mom…" Blossom mewled at her, looking up. She towered over her, and with most of her powers gone, she was downright intimidating.

"What?" Selicia growled at Blossom. "I don't have all day."

"Why won't Daddy come up to fix us?" Blossom murmured, cowed by Selicia's fierce demeanor. "I'm really sad that Bunny's gone… and I want him to spend some time with me…"

"Oh, I see," Selicia snarled at Blossom. "Still the jealous little shit now, are you? Are you!?" She got down and pulled Blossom by the hair. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT THAT BUNNY DIED!"

"Ow! Mom!" Blossom yelled in pain. Selicia was almost lifting her by the hair, and it'd hurt more than usual because of her disempowerment. "STOP!"

"BUNNY DIED BECAUSE OF YOU! AND YOU STILL WANT TO TALK ABOUT DADDY-TIME!?" Selicia screamed at Blossom. She had been stewing ever since she got out of the labs, pissed that her wedding plans were ruined, and she was pretty fond of Bunny too, who had become her second favorite.

"Mom! Stop hurting her!" Bubbles shouted, only to receive a slap in the face for her trouble. She began crying from the blow. Buttercup, in the meantime, was watching with disinterest. She would normally enjoy seeing her sisters get disciplined by Mom, but the fact that they weren't really her family had somehow tarnished the experience as if it was all fake.

"Shut up, Bubbles! Don't start talking over me! You know how I FUCKING hate that!" Selicia said before turning back to Blossom. "You don't deserve any of this. You're LUCKY you still have any of this. You should be lying down there in the lab, not Bunny, but she decided that you're worth saving somehow. Here's a hint in case you're too DENSE to figure it out: if I get to choose between Bunny and you, I would have chosen Bunny."

"Me too…" Blossom murmured in response to what Selicia professed about her preference.

"Now start eating before I stuff the whole bowl down your throat," Selicia said coldly before walking away and slamming the door shut.


	129. Chapter 122: Post-Bunny

**Chapter 122: Post-Bunny**

**B-50 Autopsy & Funerary Report**

**DOC: 11 MAR (Saturday) 1989**

**Created by: Professor Utonium**

**Title: Final Report Regarding Bunny**

On 11 March 1989, autopsy commenced at 1348. The purpose of the autopsy is to determine factors leading to the death of Bunny, and what kind of procedure is required to preserve her body, if any changes to the usual method of embalming are required.

Initial observations before insertion:

Two Agony Bolts, penetrating armor, left lung and stomach, with Duranium arrowheads showing partially in her back.

Penetration wound around the heart area, likely caused by a Duranium bullet.

Penetration wound around the liver area, about 3 inches in width, completely going through Bunny as evidenced by exit wound of the same nature.

Penetration wound around the right kidney area, completely going through armor, likely caused by Duranium bullet. No exit wound, which means the bullet is still inside the body.

Penetration wound on the left forearm, completely going through the limb. The shape of the entrance wound and exit wound suggests the cause to either be a Duranium bullet or Agony Bolt, however, the entrance wound suggests strongly that an Agony Bolt has been pulled out before it could deploy.

Stab wound on the left flank, 2-3 inches wide. No exit wound. The position of the wound suggests no organ damage. Likely caused by Duranium implements, like a sword or knife.

Graze wound on the left upper arm, likely caused by Duranium bullet. Armor at left upper arm already removed before autopsy by the subject herself.

Bloodstains originating from all orifices including eyes, ears, nose, mouth, vagina, urethra, and anal cavity.

Following initial observations, all imaging techniques have been used to determine the amount of damage done to Bunny, as well as the extent to which her various illnesses have taken hold and possibly play a part in accelerating her death. The results are as expected and unsurprising. The damage done to her was simple but brutal. The only thing established with the use of x-ray and CT scans is that the wound on her left forearm has been caused by an Agony Bolt.

The bulk of the results have nothing to do with the wounds. Bunny's blood vessels are hyper-constricted, far more so than what the biology of baseline humans are capable of. This explains the paleness of the skin, which is completely white as a sheet. This is followed up by a quick exploration of her heart and its surrounding veins and arteries.

What I discovered is disturbing. My estimations put her blood loss at around 90% post-death, 80%-85% before, far more than what baseline human biology could withstand, and I can imagine that even Bunny's biology could not cope with such a loss. The heart is shriveled up and the arteries and veins tightened to the point where there is almost no lumen for blood to pass through - not that there is much blood left.

The next major discovery is made in examining the cells of her body. Cell samples are taken from the surface of her skin, blood from her heart, as well as muscular tissue from her arm, wherever they are accessible because of the wounds…

They are still alive. Bunny herself is dead, and yet the cells of her body live on. I have done a quick Chemical X2 analysis of the cells, and the Chemical X2 count is 2,152 parts per million, which is more than Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup's even when they are alive and at peak health. Theoretically, this explains why the cells are still alive. Chemical X2 fortifies the subject's body from the molecular level upwards. This ensures that the subject's body - in this case, Bunny - will not succumb to the elements or rot. Furthermore, the Chemical X2 will provide for the cells where the systems in Bunny's body could not. Chemical X2 is capable of creating any kind of atomic particle or molecule in existence, and so the cells could draw whatever they need from the remaining Chemical X2 - oxygen, glucose, minerals, vitamins, fats, proteins, et cetera. Considering that Chemical X2 is capable of replenishing itself, this could go on ad infinitum.

Following up on this, I focused my instruments on areas where the first signs of decay should occur. One such area would be the small intestines, where the gut flora should begin to break down and absorb the surrounding tissues. It is not happening at all. The likely explanation is that Bunny's intestinal cells are enhanced to the point of being impenetrable to her own gut flora, though this is just a surface explanation without any further investigation.

The other initial signs of decomposition are hit-and-miss. Algor Mortis is observed, though I am unsure if it matters to the still-living cells of Bunny's body. It remains to be seen how long the cells will survive at room temperature. Rigor Mortis is observed, so chemical changes in the muscles still hold true. Livor Mortis is barely existent, simply due to the sheer lack of blood remaining in the body.

Pathologically, Bunny was faced with prospects grimmer than her injuries. Through imaging, I discovered that the hemorrhaging in her brain had only increased exponentially, to the point of creating so much pressure in the skull it was likely uncomfortable and excruciating for Bunny. This is not helped by the dozens of tumors that had formed in there. It pains me so dearly to say this, but this is not the only thing she was suffering from when it comes to her nervous system. There is some leakage in her cerebrospinal fluid, which would have wreaked havoc on her senses and mental well-being. This is likely due to the perforation of her nerve tissues.

Most of her organs are faced with similar problems. Her lungs had tumors in them as well. There is some tearing in the lung tissue as a result. This, coupled with the perforations in the lungs, resulted in significant bleeding in the lungs. This explains the blood originating from the nose and mouth. She had been expelling them constantly in her final hours. However, up to 40% of her lungs are still filled with blood that has yet to be expelled, which is clotted by now. She was drowning in her own blood, and this has likely resulted in slow oxygen deprivation and reduced stamina and physical performance in combat.

Building on my previous report, her heart has suffered as well. Before getting shot through the heart, the organ was already compromised. The muscles are perforated, resulting in weaker heartbeats, the pericardium is ruptured, likely making it painful for Bunny, and there is a weakening of the median septum between the two ventricles, resulting in a mix between oxygenated and deoxygenated blood. There is also some blood clots occurring around the blood vessels in the region, which might have given Bunny some micro-heart-attacks which would have been dangerous and 'normal' heart attacks had she been normal. However, her Chemical X2-infused body had been able to manage the damage up until her death.

Every other major organ has been perforated as well. Attached are x-ray images that express this. Theoretically, this is all caused by Chemical X2 poisoning. Compared to Chemical X, Chemical X2 is much more potent. Never have I predicted that it would be so potent to the point of causing the rapid onset of various cancers.

The short-form explanation is that the Chemical X2 has unevenly degraded Bunny's DNA, resulting in the tumors. This was so intense to the point where pockets of cells are either mutated beyond any possibility of survival, or to the point where Bunny's immune system could no longer recognize it, resulting in autoimmunity.

Bunny's body was eating itself alive…

At the same time, the Chemical X2 was also inducing rapid healing and recovery, which likely prolonged her suffering. Had this not been the case, she would have perished much earlier. It is possible that the process had started long before the first symptom appeared, just that neither Bunny nor my medical instruments could detect it.

In any case, the process has now ended. At the sham that was the victory parade, there was a huge discharge of energy shortly after Bunny's expiration, mainly in the form of light. It is possible that most of the Chemical X2 are discharged as raw energy then. My analysis of the Chemical X2 content of her cells seem to support this. To reiterate, it has dropped from over 12000 to slightly over 2000. However, the reason for the discharge and the mechanism of this is currently unknown.

There is one other thing. Upon completing my autopsy, the wounds and incisions in her body were sealed back up as part of the funeral preparations. Hours later, I discovered that the wounds are healing despite Bunny's deceased status. In a fit of hope, I checked her for vitals only to discover nothing. She remains dead.

How her body could heal despite being dead boggles the mind as it goes against even the most cutting edge of our biological sciences.

Is this punishment for my inability to protect her? Or is Bunny still trying to keep me company, even in death?

Funerary Preparations

Due to Bunny's miraculous healing factor despite her death, no special preparation is necessary for the body to be preserved. She has become a living statue, like those stone reproduction of kings in their mausoleum, except consisting of living cells - if they could be called that.

I have taken great care to dress her in a fresh suit of uniform and combat armor. The braces I have received from the Institute have been installed. Selicia Goodwin helped with styling her hair into her signature ponytail.

She is ready.

Note by General Blackwater: Your sentiments are noted and understood. Your lack of professionalism, however, is far too clear.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Central District. Townsville Museum.**

**12 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 1352.**

The hearse bearing Bunny's corpse was driven towards the Townsville Museum at a slow and steady speed, keeping pace with the bereaved accompanying it. USDO honor guards stood behind it, and as the back of the hearse was opened, they removed a glass coffin within it with practiced perfection, before heaving it up to their shoulders as they rounded the hearse and proceeded to march, slowly, up the stairs leading to the Townsville Museum. Professor Utonium and Selicia Goodwin, in their dress uniforms, as well as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup in their black dresses with their color-coded trimmings, followed closely behind.

Surprisingly, there were no tears. All five of them had run dry of them a long time ago. Now, there was only the inevitability of death itself.

An honor guard was shouting parade orders. Ceremonial shots were fired into the air to honor the dead as she ascended the stairs to the museum on the shoulders of giants. Crowds were barely held back by barriers and a police-USDO presence. Some were there to protest the funeral, while others attended to genuinely honor the girl who had passed.

The procession made its way towards the museum. Mayor Wilford and his staff stood beside the entrance, respectfully waiting on the dead as it passed. Blossom lifted her head to regard her, and though she was surprised to see him, she didn't feel like acting on it. The world had turned a shade of black and gray and a deathly, pale white, and she didn't feel like talking or even doing anything beyond drifting by. Bubbles did the same thing, while Buttercup couldn't care less about the Mayor, but the Mayor understood. He'd learned from his contacts in the USDO that Bunny, the girl who was the center of this affair, had turned out to be their sister.

The glass coffin was taken through the museum, towards a wing specially reserved for Bunny. Mayor Wilford and his staff filed in behind the family of the bereaved. As the honor guards were still firing outside, the doors were closed.

Blossom was only dimly aware that things were happening without her realizing it. She had never been to a funeral before, and she had no idea what kind of building she was in. However, even in her disinterest in all things that wasn't Bunny, she began to notice things.

Upon passing into the wing dedicated to Bunny, she began noticing the exhibits, each of which was accompanied by plaques describing the items on display, and explaining their history, dispensing bits of fun facts.

There were replicas of herself, Bubbles, and Buttercup on display! First, there was them in their full uniform, armor, and gear, then them in their anti-protest riot gear (used during a protest against the USDO), as well as their regular riot gear. Then there was a replica of them in the same uniform, armor, and gear they were wearing presently. There were videos and newspaper articles and magazine pages on display. Artifacts that Blossom vaguely recognize were put in glass displays - pieces of their gear that were destroyed in combat and discarded, never to be seen again, until now. Debris from old battlefields long pacified. Trophies from the enemy. Larger sets occupied their very own corners. Bubbles could recognize the panic room ceiling she had carried for what felt like an eternity to spare Mister Morbucks, Elodie Morbucks, and their friends from being crushed and buried alive. Blossom and Buttercup could recognize the forklift they used as a shield during their fight against one of the three Amoeba Boys. It still felt strange that they became friends.

There were small-scale replications of their many battlefields, complete with little figurines and telescopes for visitors to peer through so that the battlefields would appear life-sized. The Girls could recognize themselves in those dioramas, especially Blossom, who felt compelled to zoom her vision in on them, having no need for a telescope.

And finally, they entered another hall, separated by some massive glass double doors. There were seats arranged in rows in the middle, but the hall was much bigger than that, for surrounding these seats were yet more exhibits, this time of battlefields Blossom couldn't recall, of artifacts she had never seen before, and of videos, newspaper articles and magazine pages that had nothing to do with her… And Bunny was placed in the center of it all, as an exhibit herself. These exhibits, however, did not have plaques accompanying them. In their place were notes hastily printed on paper and pasted where the plaques should be.

Professor Utonium, Selicia and the Girls were seated on the first row. They could see her so clearly, laid in state in a vacuum-sealed glass container, dressed in death just like how she normally dressed in life - in her purple uniform, which was almost entirely obscured by her (un)powered armor. Her arms were laid on her chest, which clutched another of her standard modded MP5. She was fully geared as well, with a suppressed pistol in her holster, her knife sheathed on her chest, her night vision goggles on her neck, like some high-tech necklace…. But they could only focus on her face, which was so pale, so peaceful, too clean, and unrepresentative of the painful death she suffered.

Beside the glass coffin was a podium, where people would take their turn speaking, starting with Mayor Wilford, who welcomed everyone to the Townsville Museum, and explained what everyone was doing in the museum, of all places, instead of, say, a cemetery, putting in the light what was going on, especially for The Powerpuff Girls.

The Mayor explained that the Townsville Museum had been preparing itself as part of the 'surprise' that was mainly represented by the ill-fated victory parade. The original plan had been for the Girls to stop at the Museum and be led inside on a grand tour of the place, with special attention paid to the newest section: a whole floor of the right-wing dedicated to the preservation of everything related to The Powerpuff Girls. This was specially arranged with the USDO, with Miss Bellum doing much of the coordination and planning, with surface-level information painstakingly hunted down and declassified for public consumption.

Everyone was sure that The Powerpuff Girls would be part of history for years to come. They were right for the most part, except for when it came to Bunny.

And so the Mayor had to cut the long, red ribbon inside the building with a heavy heart.

The next person to speak was General Blackwater, who gave a rousing speech about how Bunny had stood out even in training. For someone who had only live about 18 days, she had done more than what some cops and soldiers could accomplish in 18 years, with an emphasis on how it was far better than the ineptitude and treachery of the corrupt. The bright future of Townsville, he said, was thus only possible because of Bunny, and the City owed her a debt that could never be repaid, as the deed was done at the cost of her life. She had practically broken the back of the corrupt half of the Townsville Police Force all by her lonesome and was in turn broken by them.

Dad went last. Smiling down at Selicia and the three Girls, he could barely hold back the tears as he was buffeted by camera flashes. Going in the opposite direction of the general, Professor Utonium talked about Bunny's humanity instead, and how she was a normal girl at heart who desired normal things. Despite all the superhuman feats she had accomplished and the heinous things she had to do bring about the much-needed change in Townsville, she was above all else, a girl who only wanted love and peace not just for herself, but for the whole town.

It was on that day that Professor Utonium was revealed as the man behind the Powerpuff Girls. By this point, it was no secret to the enemies of the USDO and Townsville, and so the fact was declassified for the sake of the PR advantages it could provide, again, leaving the vast majority of the details to the imaginations of the public.

After the eulogies were given, the religious rites were provided by Saint George himself, the leader of the Church of the New Trinity. The USDO had decided that it was better to involve the church as its members could be of some use; their misguided loyalty to the prototype bioweapons and thus the USDO and their soaring numbers were thought to be resources the USDO might one day tap on.

The saint spoke of Bunny as an angel sent by God, a powerful figure not unlike Jesus himself who died so that morality could be restored to the world. When he claimed that Bunny had returned home to heaven after doing her job, to eventually reunite with her Earthly family one day, Blossom and Bubbles really believed it, that one day, perhaps, they might see her again.

Then came the viewing of the deceased. When it was the Girls' turn, Blossom and Bubbles couldn't help but explode into tears as they came close to the glass coffin. Buttercup was, again, affected by their emotions, and she found it annoying - oh, how much she wished her connection to them could be severed completely!

Death had never hit them this hard before. Back then, it was something that had only ever met their enemies, or people they didn't know well. It was bad enough then. Now, Bunny was lying in a sealed glass coffin, completely unresponsive to them… So close and yet so far, her body right next to them, but Bunny herself was gone forever.

As the family of the heroine laid in state, they were allowed as much time as they needed, but eventually, the professor got them to leave, seeing that they needed to move on eventually.

"Goodbye…" Blossom bade Bunny one last time.

"Nightey-night…" Bubbles said to Bunny as they left.

Meanwhile, Buttercup said nothing.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Central District. Townsville Museum.**

**12 MAR (Sunday) 1989. 1435.**

On closing, there was a reception prepared, with refreshments, though none of the Girls were interested in eating or even drinking at all. It was then that the Mayor sought them out especially to speak to them. The Girls had been sitting in a corner while the professor and Selicia were speaking to other members of the USDO; people they knew from the HQ. Pulling up a chair, he sat down next to them. The Girls were silent. Only Buttercup looked ready for a conversation.

"Well, I hope the museum's done the job to your liking," the Mayor said as he took Blossom's tiny hand, hoping that a little touch might do something. "Laid in state like a president of the United States, in one of Townsville's most historic and prestigious institutions, to be immortalized as a heroine for all eternity."

"Thanks, Mayor Wilford…" Bubbles mumbled. "I think Bunny would have liked it."

"Will we ever get to see her again?" Blossom said, her eyes still fixed on the carpeted floor. It broke the Mayor's heart to see someone so young become so depressed.

"Why, yes, of course. I've talked to the museum director personally, and he's agreed to give you and your family free entry for life," the Mayor announced to them, hoping that they might feel better. "So you can come in whenever you want if you feel like seeing her again."

"Oh…" Blossom said simply. The Mayor didn't quite get what she meant, but it didn't matter. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to return to the museum. It'd hurt her so badly, just seeing Bunny again, the way she was pale and still like a statue, sealed away in a glass coffin for eternity. There would never again be laughter from Bunny. By now, Blossom would even welcome an argument and a heat beam from her if it meant that she would live. As it stood, there was no chance for them to really mend their sisterly relationship - it was broken because of her, and now it was broken forever.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**12 Mar (Sunday) 1989. 1712.**

Ever since returning from Bunny's state funeral, Professor Utonium hadn't been the same. Upon reaching home, he'd left the Girls to Selicia entirely, retreating down to the basement laboratory-like some wounded, nocturnal creature.

There, he sat at his work desk, staring at the Duranium cage containing the Chemical X2-mutated guinea pig with soulless eyes. It had since succumbed to the same diseases as Bunny. It was lying in its cage on its belly, breathing its last.

Getting up lifelessly, the professor picked up a Duranium scalpel from the medical wing of the lab and returned to the guinea pig. Poking the implement through the bars of the cage, he plunged the blade of the scalpel into the guinea pig's brain to put it out of its misery.

He dropped the scalpel on the table and returned to his seat, face in his hands. For how long he'd been spending all his energy holding himself together, he didn't know. He'd lost track of time, but eventually, he leaned back and turned to his blackboard once more.

The formula for Chemical X2 was there. The different components of it were pointed out by arrows. Notes scribbled in illegible doctor's handwriting stood like walls behind those arrows. He had written equations as well, all of which were part of the unfinished blueprint for Bunny's cure.

It drew him in. He knew it was useless, but he felt the intense need to finish it, an urge he couldn't explain. Breathing a sigh of resignation, he got up from his chair and ambled over to the blackboard, picking up the chalk.

By the time Selicia came by to call him up for dinner, he was entirely unresponsive to the rest of the world beyond himself and his blackboard.

"Thomas, it's time for dinner," Selicia called out to him again after coming up close to him, mere feet away. The professor continued to ignore her as if she wasn't even a figment of his imagination. Instead, he continued writing feverishly on his blackboard, mumbling something about the additives to Chemical X and the reactive agents or some such.

"Tommy darling, you have to eat some time you know," Selicia said again. When the professor didn't budge, she took him by the arm and began dragging him away. "Snap out of it! We have to go on living no matter what-!"

"NO!" the professor yelled, breaking free from Selicia with surprising strength. "The cure! I have to find the cure!"

"Thomas! Bunny is dead!" Selicia yelled back at him, but the professor didn't care. "What's the point of working on the cure?"

"I have to find the cure," he simply mumbled as he returned to his blackboard, his overstrained eyes already red and teary.

"I'm so close. I can find the cure," he muttered incoherently, looking half-mad with his unkempt hair and disheveled clothes. He hadn't even changed from his formal USDO suit yet.

Selicia could only look on helplessly as he continued to scribble useless scientific nonsense on his blackboard. Wiping tears away, the security officer went back up the stairs.

Back at the kitchen, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were silent as they sat around the dining table, completely uninterested in filling their bellies. They were still dressed in black. When Selicia returned to them, she added another plate to the dinner spread without looking at the Girls before moving to the kitchen counter to grab a pot of fruit punch.

"Eat your food, Girls, or you'll go hungry," Selicia said dryly and unsympathetically as she returned to them to fill their glasses.

"I'm not hungry," Blossom said as she continued to stare at the floor.

"Me too… I can't eat…" Bubbles added. "I miss Bunny…"

Selicia sighed, her patience thinning. The fact that her other half was coming unhinged was already too much to bear.

"Missing your meal won't bring her back, Bubbles," Selicia was just barely able to resist screaming at Bubbles. Her voice was a dangerous growl; she wasn't exactly fond of Bubbles ever since she nearly killed the man she intended to get married to. "So eat." She was still standing, but she had since stopped pouring juice into cups. She gripped the handle of the pot of juice tightly, her hand shaking with rage.

"Mom… I don't want the broccolis and fish!" Buttercup butted in. "I want chicken and sausages!"

"Don't be so picky, Buttercup!" Selicia growled at her favorite, but she tried to keep it all down just for her sake. "Eat your vegetables and fish, honey. They're good for you."

"But Mom! I hate broccoli and fish! I want chicken and sausages!" Buttercup complained regardless.

"When is Dad coming up? I miss him…" Blossom then said. "I don't want to eat without him."

"He's not coming up-" Selicia said, still gripping the pot of juice, so hard that her fingers were becoming white.

Bubbles had, for some reason, started crying again, and she definitely wasn't going to touch her food at this rate.

"I w-want Bunny b-back!" Bubbles cried.

"Honey, it's not possible-" Selicia tried to reason with Bubbles only to be interrupted by Buttercup:

"Mom, I want sausages!" Buttercup whined again. "Why do you have to cook those yucky fishes?"

The Girls continued to whine and cry and complain. Selicia stood stock-still, paralyzed by how the Girls were going out of control, how they wouldn't just behave and leave her alone, just for once. It wasn't as if they were the only ones suffering! Those selfish little brats!

Something snapped in Selicia when this went on unabated. Slamming the pot of fruit punch down on the table so hard the pot of juice exploded, splashing all four of them in the stuff, Selicia swept everything on the table off in her fit of rage as she screamed. Despite getting cut in the hands because of the glass shards from the pot, she didn't stop and proceeded to slap Blossom all of a sudden, painting one side of her face with her blood.

"Ow! Mom!" Blossom cried. Selicia did not stop. She slapped her immediately after that. "Ow!"

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Selicia screamed as she grabbed Blossom by the collar and pinned her against the back of her chair. "YOUR FATHER WENT CRAZY BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU STUPID-" Selicia grabbed Blossom by the chair and slammed her face down on the table.

"MOM!" Bubbles screamed in shock while she was still reeling from breaking down.

Blossom, in the meantime, was a complete mess; she was wet with juice, with Selicia's blood on the left side of her face and bits of food caking her face. She cried brokenly, unhurt but an emotional wreck.

"YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" Selicia screamed into Blossom's face before slapping her again, but she did not scream this time. "ALL BECAUSE YOU GOT JEALOUS, YOU SHIT!"

Blossom crumbled against the back of her chair, curling up into a fetus as she put up her arms to shield herself from further assaults while she cried with snot coming out of her nose. But something was coming out of her, something that finally got Selicia to stop.

Blood. Blood from Blossom's lips. She had bitten herself by accident after getting hit so many times.

"Oh my God…" Selicia whispered to herself, finally coming around. Approaching Blossom again, this time out of concern and pity for the enhanced creature, she tried to pull Blossom's arm out of the way so she could see her face better, but the enhanced little girl continued to resist.

"Blossom, stop, let me see," she said to Blossom, who was already stronger than her, having recovered somewhat from her Anti-X poisoning. "I won't hit you again - I promise."

That, somehow, got Blossom to stop resisting. While she was still crying, Bending down, Selicia peeled back her lips and found a couple of bloody ulcers that had formed on the inside, which looked painful.

"I'm so sorry…" Selicia apologized after that as she began wiping off food that had stuck to Blossom's face. Blossom, in the meantime, had stiffened up. She was still shrinking away from Selicia, afraid that she might explode on her again. "I didn't mean to go nuts like that… I- I guess Bunny's death has affected me badly too…" She pulled Blossom into a hug.

"Look, let's get the three of you cleaned up before Dad comes up and we'll all just forget about this, okay? I'll even order some pepperoni pizza…" Selicia said, and without waiting for a reply, she scooped up the trembling Blossom and led Bubbles by the hand towards the stairs. Buttercup followed obediently, entertained somewhat by her sisters' suffering under Selicia. After all, there was some pepperoni pizza in it for her…


	130. Chapter 123: Deleterious

**Chapter 123: Deleterious**

The following phone recording had been erased by an unknown party at The House. The existing copy had to be copied from a USDO listening post.

**Phone Recording 03121989-2005-TH**

**DOC: 12 MAR (Sunday) 1989.**

**EXTRACTED: 20 MAR (Monday) 1989.**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Psychiatrist Alice: Come on, Thomas, pick up the phone!

Sergeant Selicia: Hello?

Alice: Selicia, get Thomas on the phone. Please.

Selicia: If it's anything about him or the Girls, you'll talk to me from now on.

Alice: Why? What happened to him?

Selicia: He's… busy at the moment. He can't be disturbed.

Alice: What is he doing?

Selicia: Lab work, or something. Are we done here?

Alice: It's about the Girls' psychiatric consultation. Thomas hasn't given me a date for the next session. With Bunny's death, I think it's absolutely vital that I talk to the Girls.

Selicia: Oh, Alice, Alice…

Alice: Selicia? Stop fooling around!

Selicia: You know, you're not that important, Alice. Has it ever occurred to you that my sweetheart wants nothing to do with you anymore?

Alice: I seriously doubt that-

Selicia: ARE YOU THICK!? We've just lost a member of the family, a baby girl, and you think you can just barge into our home and tell us what to think and how to feel!?

Alice: It's not that I-

Selicia: My Tommy doesn't need you. I don't need you. Buttercup, Bubbles, and Blossom – who are my sweet little babies by the way, not yours - they don't need you. What we need is some space, and you're not helping.

Alice: Now wait just a second-

Selicia: I think we're done here. I don't ever want to see you anywhere near my house again. Goodbye.

Alice: Wait-

Selicia: (hangs up)

(Four minutes later)

Phone bot: This line is currently engaged. Please record your message after the tone *BEEP*

Alice: Professor Utonium, this is Alice. I don't know if you know, but Selicia's been trying to separate me from the kids. I don't know if that's what you want - I highly doubt it. I hope you understand the urgency of the situation. This cannot be allowed to happen. The Girls - they need to process the death of their youngest sister right. I've read your reports on the Girls' mental and emotional development, and how accelerated they are. If we're not there for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, it might be bad further down the road. I'm willing to be there any time, any day. Just- just call me. If nothing else, I want to be there for the kids. They need all the reassurance they can get.

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**13 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1535.**

The day had crawled by at a snail's pace, and it was about as exciting as watching paint dry, not that Blossom and Bubbles wanted to enjoy themselves. It didn't feel right since Bunny would never be able to do so again.

With Professor Utonium stuck in the basement laboratory, working on a cure that would never save its singular patient, Selicia found herself in charge of the Girls all by her lonesome.

It was then that she realized that she didn't want to be a mother to three kids, and the only reason she cared at all was the professor, and so she put her nose to the grindstone, keeping the cogs of the family moving.

The Girls had woken up without an appetite, so she reasoned that anything more than something basic for breakfast would be a wasted effort. She ended up making some tasteless gruel. Predictably, the Girls ate little and returned to their room lifelessly after that.

Calling Miss Keane, Selicia had the Girls excused from school for a week, citing the death of Bunny as the reason, so that the family would have time to mourn their loss. What Selicia didn't say was that it was convenient for her, since she didn't want to drive the Girls to and from school on her own. The Girls had all but lost their charm, even Buttercup, who had become totally withdrawn since a week ago. As if Bunny dying wasn't enough, they had become a bunch of downers. Weren't children supposed to be more optimistic than that?

After failing, again, to get the professor to come out of his subterranean hiding spot, Selicia had to eat with the Girls alone… again. She'd ordered pizza… again, this time with extra cheese and pepperoni; she didn't want a repeat of the day before. She absolutely HATED it when the Girls whine and groan and moan, and it wasn't that she didn't know that hitting them was wrong. It was something she couldn't control, like a button that, when pushed, she would just go off the rails, and the Girls, particularly Blossom, had become good at pushing it without knowing it. She even enjoyed it, hitting them or hurling verbal abuses at them. It was almost cathartic, even if it was wrong.

So, after lunch, Selicia left the Girls to their own devices in their room and scooted off to the kitchen, bringing out a six-pack, which she laid on the living room coffee table. She switched on the television, flipping channels only to be reminded of Bunny's death as she went past the news channels.

Yeah, she needed her six-pack.

She needed it badly, but before she could really enjoy her alcohol, Blossom had snuck up to her, taking her hand and pulling it, pleading for attention.

"What the hell do you want?" Selicia said and pulled her hand out of Blossom's grip, which had grown firm as the enhanced little girl was recovering from her Anti-X poisoning and regaining her strength.

"I'm really worried about Dad," Blossom said. Without even looking at her, Selicia took another sip of her beer.

"Join the club, Bloss," Selicia remarked, her eyes focused on the television rather than her.

"Mom… Why isn't he coming up to see us anymore?" Blossom asked a question which immediately elicited a sigh from Selicia.

"You're not the only one missing Bunny, you know," Selicia said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Stop being so self-centered."

"But I'm worried about Dad," Blossom repeated, cringing from what Selicia said as if her words could hurt; it'd truly stung Blossom. Ever since meeting Mom, Blossom had always looked up to her. She cooked the best meals, baked the best cookies, and read stories well. She knew everything about looking beautiful and telling good fashion from the bad, all while (from what Blossom understood) working for the same organization as General Blackwater, that same organization that seemed to be fighting crime 24/7. Selicia's verbal and physical abuse had only sent the message that she was inadequate, and though it was slowly withering away Blossom's love for her, there was still a connection there.

"You know what?" Selicia said dismissively. "Why don't you go down there and see for yourself what you've done to him?"

And so Blossom did. Trotting over to the airlock, she opened it up with difficulty and waited for it to cycle before taking the elevator down - without her ability to hover and fly, going down the stairs was too much of a hassle.

As the elevator descended, Blossom could only imagine what she would find down below. She couldn't recall seeing Dad coming up at all, not since Bunny's funeral. What's happened to him? How could he even survive two days of being locked down in the labs?

The doors of the elevator opened before Blossom could think things through and mentally prepare herself to reunite with her Dad.

It didn't take long for her to witness for herself what had happened to her Dad. Walking past some tables and counters for scientific work, she spotted her Dad next to his desk. He was still wearing the same clothes since Bunny's funeral, though he had taken off his jacket and left it hanging on his chair.

He was scribbling some calculations on a blackboard with chalk… and he didn't just have one blackboard anymore. He had linked up three large blackboards and was more than halfway from filling the last one up with his notes.

Blossom found it discomforting. Frightening. Timidly, she began approaching her Dad. She could only see his back. His white shirt was discolored and wet with sweat. There were stains under his armpits.

When she got closer, she could hear Dad mumbling dryly, in a broken and raspy voice, some language she wasn't sure was even English. Unknown to her, she was listening to the professor uttering scientific terms, but it might as well be an alien language from her perspective.

"Dad?" Blossom called out to him while she was peeking out of a corner of the table behind him. It was the very same table on which Bunny was prepared for her funeral. The scratching of chalk on blackboard stopped. The professor turned around.

"B-Bunny?" he said, much to Blossom's dismay. "Are you back?" he started looking around frantically, only to be disappointed that he couldn't find Bunny.

"Blossom, was that Bunny calling out to me?" he asked the moment he saw Blossom by his table, which made her felt even worse. "Where is she?"

"It's just me, Dad," Blossom said as she finally looked up at him, and he was a horrible sight to behold. Bloodshot pink eyes on top of black eyebags like boats. Sunken cheeks. Unkempt hair. He hadn't shaved, and his stubbles were beginning to show, like tiny, black worms crawling out of his skin. Underneath that were lips that were cracked and flaky. The salty, slimy stink was off-putting.

"What do you want, Blossom?" he asked curtly, leaning against the funeral table, swaying on his feet. He seemed weak.

"You don't look so good, Dad…" Blossom said instead, even though she very much wanted to say something significantly different. The way the professor looked concerned her deeply. She had never seen him this way before, not even in his darkest moments - though it seemed that Bunny's death had affected him far more deeply than anything else that came before.

"I'm fine as I am. At least I'm not dead. Dead, like Bunny," the professor lamented. He crumbled down on a chair by the table, leaning back as he closed his eyes. But he didn't rest for anything more than that moment. He straightened up again, opening his tired eyes as he shot up from his chair. "The cure! I- I can find a cure for Bunny!" He hurried back to his blackboard and picked up the chalk again as if Blossom was never there. But he looked back at Blossom, regarding her for a moment. "You- you'll have your sister back. I know it - I just know it!"

The way he was acting had scared Blossom to tears.

"Dad?" Blossom mewled like a hurt little puppy.

"What is it, Blossom? Can't you see I'm on the verge of a breakthrough!?" the professor yelled at her, before mumbling scientific nonsense to himself once more.

"You haven't come up since yesterday…" Blossom managed to blurt out in between tears.

"Of course! I need to save Bunny!" the professor shouted before having a dry coughing fit.

"Why won't you come up and stay with us?" Blossom pleaded with Dad.

"The cure, Blossom! The cure for Bunny!" the professor said deliriously.

"Dad?" Blossom called out to him once more. It'd frustrated the professor. Slamming the chalk down on the holder at the bottom of the blackboard, he turned around, furious.

"What!?" he yelled at her.

"I- I feel that-" Blossom mumbled, unable to form coherent sentences, but she took a deep breath after that, though she was still sniffling, to rally herself and eke out a proper sentence: "Is it… my fault that Bunny died?"

"What did you say?" the professor questioned the enhanced little girl.

"Back when she was still alive… I wished that she would just die and leave me alone…" Blossom confessed to her Dad. "I thought I wouldn't care even if she's dead but now I want more than anything for her to come back…"

"I thought she was bad and evil… but she wasn't…" Blossom added when her Dad stayed silent.

The professor said nothing. Instead, he was looking at the ground, unable to bring himself to look at Blossom because of her confession.

"Dad…" Blossom pleaded with him.

Without saying a word, the professor walked away, disappearing into a maze of supercomputers of isolated compartments.

More depressed than ever, Blossom walked away, sobbing and wiping away tears. Without saying a word, her Dad had told her everything: that she was guilty, that Bunny's death was her fault. It seemed that even in death, she was still second to Bunny, who continued to command the professor's attention.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**13 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1719.**

General Blackwater got out of his humvee. As usual, he was surrounded by his general's bodyguards, who began fanning out to form a defensive perimeter around the lawn of The House. The general casually strolled up the lawn path, past melting snow, and up the door. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Nothing.

He pressed the doorbell button again. It took whoever it was inside some time, but eventually, the door opened with a lazy creak. It was Selicia, looking a little disheveled, harried by something. The general thought it natural and believed that she must be going through hell, whether it was personal or professional.

"Sergeant," the general greeted the woman.

"General Blackwater, sir," Selicia returned the greeting, sloppier than usual, lacking energy.

"How are you holding up, soldier?" the general asked as he went into The House.

"It's been… bad," Selicia said. "Professor Utonium isn't reacting well to Bunny's death. The Girls neither. You know, they aren't helping, especially Blossom and Bubbles. They're still being really demanding even though someone died."

"And that is why I've posted you here, Selicia, to keep an eye on things," the general said without looking at her. Like the soldier he was, he was scrutinizing the entire living room, as if expecting an ambush to come out of nowhere. What he found instead was a living room that looked almost like the war zone he was used to. The entire house was in disarray. Empty beer cans on the coffee table with alcohol stains, empty or half-empty pizza boxes littered another corner of the table… and the floor. The television was still on, and there were remotes scattered all over the couch, table, and floor. There was a smell coming from everywhere - Selicia, the living room and the kitchen. Alcohol. Peeking at the adjoining kitchen, he saw even more trash and unwashed plates. The kitchen table was a mess. There were stains on the tiled floor and furniture. "These… Powerpuff Girls have the temperament of children, and you'll have to treat these bioweapons as children. If nothing else, it keeps them contained… I'll have to give the professor that. Speaking of the professor, where is he?"

"Down in the labs, general," Selicia said. "He hasn't been himself lately, and I don't think he's just… grieving, you know. I think he's lost it."

"Losing it IS another form of grieving, sarge," the general said. "If only you've had to grieve before. If only you've lost enough friends and family to fill buses."

"I've had people kick it on me before…" Selicia muttered, hanging her head low. "There's plenty of people I couldn't care less about, but my aunt-"

"Yes, I know about that. I expect no less commitment to the bioweapons. If anything, they've exceeded most of us once more, this time by suffering such a loss at such a young age," the general went on, again without looking at Selicia, this time his eyes fixed on the airlock leading to the labs, like an eagle hunting for prey. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a score to settle with the professor."

"What do you mean?" Selicia said, alarmed by the language he used. The general had been walking towards the airlock, only to stop and turn around.

"Nothing," he said after a pause. "I'm just going to have a man-to-man talk with your dear Thomas. It's a shame that your happiest day has been delayed, by the way. My condolences to all your losses."

With that, the general proceeded downstairs, emerging out into the underground lab as many others did before him to discover the same thing.

Selicia wasn't kidding when she said he'd lost it.

On walking towards the professor, the first thing he noticed wasn't the sight of him, but the smell. Something salty and rotten was in the air. The sight of him was the second thing the general bore witness to, and it was only by his experience in the violent degeneracy of humanity that got him through. The professor was in a rather sorry state, not unlike how men would look like after years of traumatic warfare.

"Professor Utonium," the general greeted with a flat tone. The professor, who had become quite unlike himself, barely acknowledged his presence. A passing glance was all he gave the general before returning to his calculation, which had accrued a massive wall of chalky scientific and mathematical incomprehensibles.

"Do you know why I'm here?" the general asked, not bothered by the lack of respect and attention the professor was paying him.

"It's Bunny, isn't it? She's… she's everything now," the professor mumbled absentmindedly, with much of his attention focused on his massive wall of blackboard, which had expanded in size to add a second floor.

"Yes, she is, isn't she?" the general agreed with the professor, and had the professor been in a more median state of mind, he would have been surprised.

"I have to find the cure…" the professor simply said, before returning back to his calculations, writing furiously on the blackboard with his chalk. The holder was filled with numerous spent chalks. His hands were white with chalk powder.

"Don't you want to find out more about her… heritage?" the general revealed. The professor stopped, taking a rare pause from his manic project to think about what the general said.

"What are you talking about?" he said, his voice a strangled whisper from extreme thirst.

"You remember, don't you? A dedicated father like you would," General Blackwater said vaguely. "Where Bunny's genetic material came from was top-secret information, but since she's now deceased, it's no longer the case. It's simply 'classified' now… accessible even to a field researcher like you."

"Why are you coming to me with this?" the professor asked weakly. He didn't so much as inch over to his desk to sit down on it as he was struggling towards it and collapsing butt-first on it.

"Because I want you to know exactly what you've done," the general said, his face twitching slightly as he did.

"I know exactly what I've done," the professor said, downcast, his perceived crime weighing heavily in his heart. In his desperate attempt to shield Bunny from the same kind of harm that had come to Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup in the line of duty, he had inadvertently killed her via the delayed effects of Chemical X2. In his arrogance, which had him believe that Chemical X2 would practically make Bunny invincible in combat, he had ensured her inevitable death. But 'inevitably' was just a word. There had to be a cure. There should be a cure!

"No, you don't," the general said in a harsh whisper before graduating to a bellow. "So shut the fuck up and listen!"

The professor did as he was told. It was easy to stay still and quiet as he was just about ready to collapse from hunger, thirst and exhaustion.

"When the council convened on the subject of creating a new bioweapon, there were many things that had to be decided upon, one of which was the genetic source of B-50, who we know and love as Bunny," the general explained. "Doctor Vanum suggested reducing the 'unknown variables' by reusing the DNA of Aislinn Callaghan, Blossom's genetic donor, with a few superficial alterations to 'vary the appearance of the resulting product' to avoid the awkwardness of having two of the same clones in the family. I shot that down hard, as did half the council. I know about your precious Blossom, how… sub-optimal her results are."

"Through no fault of her own," the professor managed to blurt out.

"I don't care whose fault it is. I don't need another failure plaguing our operations," the general said harshly, biting down on his words. "So, you know what they say. If you want it done right, you gotta do everything yourself. I suggested screening our existing USDO personnel for candidates to donate genetic material for the next bioweapon. Not everyone was too keen about having their younger self flitting through the air and striking terror in the hearts of both terrorists and civilians alike, but orders were orders and the decision I made to have TWO genetic donors rather than one quelled any unease entirely. Do you see where this is going?"

"The zygote. It wasn't a stem cell. You used a sperm and an ovum for IVF instead," the professor recounted.

"We narrowed down the list. Doctor Vanum and his science team did it by eliminating gene samples with any genetic diseases in it, and any genes that could lead to any manner of mental, emotional and physical weakness, followed by choosing amongst these the DNA samples that would lead to the best possible results," the general went on to tell his story, with surprising scientific accuracy, as if he had practiced telling it several times. "Guess what happened next?"

The professor was silent. He didn't know where this was going. He had long suspected it, but Bunny was her own person, not anyone else, and the choices made by others, however questionable, weren't hers. He'd loved her as his own regardless.

"It was a very narrow list indeed. It all came down to three from the science staff, two from admin, a corporal, three captains, and a general. Someone had to make the final decision, and since it's a military matter, it came down me, to be agreed upon or countermanded by Director Cliff," the general went on, pausing to watch the professor's face turning more pallid than it already was. "Since it's a soldier I require, I eliminated all civilian candidates immediately. That means you, Doctor Vanum and some lab assistant lady you probably don't remember-"

"I remember the names of all my staff-" the professor interrupted but didn't have the strength to impose himself or even go on for long.

"Yes, you had a shot at putting your genetic material in the fourth bioweapon of the USDO, professor, but I guess it's not meant to be. So it all came down to a corporal, three captains, and a general…" the general said, taking his time. "No offense to my three captains - you might know them: Captain Brian 'Brick' Griffin, Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur and Captain Caylon 'Butch' Butcher - but their portfolios are shorter than a general's, and if you know about the birds and the bees, professor, which I know you no doubt do, we can't have two sperms, now, can we? So the corporal was chosen, though it's at no loss at all to the genetics of the fourth bioweapon. She's an impressive specimen in her own right if I were to jest like one of your own kind, professor. I'm sure she would have achieved as much as me in time…"

"And so the zygote you used to create Bunny… Yes, the genetic material came from me and Corporal Nana Weston," the general finally said, before approaching the professor menacingly. The professor shrank in his looming presence, powerless against the general even at his peak, but now more so with his loss and self-imposed thirst and starvation. "So let me make this short and sweet, professor. I've basically turned you into a God-damn cuckold without you knowing it, but I guess that would make me a cuckoo now, would it?"

Without warning, the general grabbed the professor by the collar, lifting him off his desk. The professor didn't resist, not only because of his physical weakness but also because he was spent inside.

"That was MY DAUGHTER you've KILLED!" General Blackwater screamed at the professor.

"Says a man who wouldn't invest a second into his daughter's life!" the professor cried as he tried in vain to break free of the general grasp, but he was way too weak to even imagine doing so. "You tossed her out into the ocean to drown!"

"I trained Bunny myself! I was out there in the field with her while you cowered at home with your lab toys! How dare you!" the general yelled, sounding wounded over the accusation. Was that a tear falling out of his eyes? The professor wasn't in the position to tell. He was thrown across the room like a doll after that.

"You're lucky I'm a civilized warrior living in civilized times," the general warned the professor, pointing fingers accusingly at him as he advanced towards him before kicking him while he was down. "Because I would have had you shot otherwise. I don't know what Bunny saw in you, or even Selicia for that matter. I'd watch your 'kids' more closely from now on if I were you."

And with that, the general left the professor alone in his lab, sobbing on the floor.


	131. Chapter 124: The Test (Part 1)

**Chapter 124: The Test (Part 1)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 0905.**

Bubbles had been staring at her bed, paying her tea party plushies no attention as she was spending all of it on the carrot pillow occupying the middle of the bed. It had been Bunny's. In her mind, it still was.

In another corner of the room, Blossom was spending all her time playing Bunny's tabletop game, imagining that Bunny was with her; trying to think up her moves, however, was difficult. She would discover that Bunny's way of doing things, her strategies and tactics, was forever lost too, impossible to replicate.

Buttercup, on the other hand, continued to ignore the world around her. She had stationed herself by the window, staring longingly at the melting snow. There was only one thing on her mind: the powerful friend she supposedly had, who was somewhere out there. She had dreamed of him once more, though he had been very mysterious and secretive about it. In her dream, he'd stuck to the shadows, beckoning her, and when she approached him, he was already gone.

But somehow or rather, Buttercup knew one thing. He had his eye on her, and it was only a matter of time before they meet.

Blossom and Bubbles had dreams too, but they hadn't been very uplifting. Blossom had dreamed of Bunny, who was always far away from her no matter how much she ran towards her, no matter how she tried to reach out to her and grab her. Not only that, but there was also that look she gave her: that frowning, hateful look, blaming her for everything and rightfully so.

Bubbles, on the other hand, had visited the world of her drawings again, that world where everything was simple and optimistic. But that simplicity and optimism weren't enough, for the Blossom and Buttercup of her dreamland had lost their Bunny too, and in a remarkably similar way. They, too, had doubted their Bunny, cast her away in a fit of rejection, only for her to save them from the prisoners she released before exploding in a white ball of light, leaving behind nothing but a scrap of purple cloth. That was the story that cartoon Blossom and Buttercup recounted to her, and the only advice they could give was to learn from it the moral of the story, and though it would hurt for many months and even years to come, she would begin to learn how to smile again.

But it wouldn't be anytime soon. Bubbles sighed before hopping off her bed and going into the closet to find one busywork or another to distract herself. She knew exactly what to look for: their gear was a mess, and they hadn't been tidied since… that day. They were just taken off and dumped into the closet.

It was dark inside, so she kept the door open. Sitting down on the floor, she studied her vest, instantly reminded of Bunny's demise. It had been soaked in Bunny's blood when she tried to resuscitate Bunny. The blood was dry, likely had been for days.

There were holes everywhere. They had been shot at so many times. Their equipment would never last very long as a result. She began opening the pouches on the vest and emptying out the contents. Magazines with bullets. Some of them were damaged. Something else came out.

Her flip-phone. The plastic casing was cracked from a grazing shot. She opened it and found it to still be in working order. The screen lit up, promptly informing her that she had one missed call.

The missed call came from Elodie Morbucks.

Oh no. It all came back to Bubbles when she saw the digitized letters on the screen. It had hit her then that she had failed her friend. The last time they met, the Princess was incredibly ill. She was supposed to undergo an experimental treatment due to how severe her cancer was. Now, there was no telling what state of health she was in, or worse, how she must have felt, all alone, and the state of mind that accompanied it. Unless…

Bubbles went to her phonebook on the phone and scrolled down to the Princess' saved number. Hitting the 'call' button, she brought it up to her ear and waited as a ringtone beeped back at her.

Five seconds went by, then ten. Soon, half a minute went by and the phone just continued to taunt her with its beeping. Something was wrong. Bubbles was about to hang up when the line was finally connected, and she was greeted with a familiar voice.

"Hi, you've reached the one and only Elodie Morbucks' phone," it was the Princess' voice, but when Bubbles called out to her, it did not respond. It turned out to be a recording. "I'm not here right now, so please leave a message and I'll call you, 'kay? Bye!"

It sounded too happy, a product of what the Powerpuff Girls had done to improve the Princess' outlook in life. But now, Bubbles had a feeling that that was going to change because of how they had missed their appointment with her.

The phone beeped once more, to signal that it had begun recording.

"Elodie! I… I'm sorry we didn't come to see you!" Bubbles rushed through her words at first, afraid that she didn't have long to say something, but when she realized that she now had too much time to say whatever she could, she slowed down. She felt like crying once more. How unfair could the world get? First, it took Bunny, her younger sister, away from her, and now she discovered that she missed seeing the Princess before her operation because of it! "Something really bad happened-"

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Esperanza Acres. Morbucks Family Mansion.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 0923.**

"-Bunny, my sister - You didn't get to meet her - she… died. Please call me back… I'll- I'll do anything to make it up to you! I- uh- I'm hoping we'll get to meet again soon…" Bubbles' voice in a phone recording echoed in a huge, spacious bedroom. It was being played from a phone with an attached messaging system. A tiny hand reached over to it to push the rewind button, and after waiting for a moment, pushed the play button again.

"Please call me back… I'll- I'll do anything to make it up to you!" Bubbles' voice recording repeated itself once more on the device, sounding needier and pleading with the repetition. The tiny child's hand pushed the rewind button again, this time waiting for a much shorter period of time before pushing the play button once more.

"I'll do anything to make it up to you!" Bubbles' disembodied voice was forced to repeat itself once more. The tape was rewound and played again after that by the owner of the tiny hand.

"I'll do anything to make it up to you!" Bubbles' voice was forced, once again, to repeat itself, to the twisted joy of whoever occupied the huge, cavernous child's bedroom in the Morbucks Family Mansion.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. The Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1235.**

Bossman was whistling a tune as he stood at the balcony of his massive mansion, watching with a pair of binoculars a certain part of his massive backyard, which was about the size of a football field. There had been some rude incursions lately, perpetrated by a group of foxes that resulted in some broken windows and stolen food. However, he knew exactly where they were coming from every single time, and he'd set up some traps in case they do return.

Fedele Palladino, one of his trusted button man, had been hovering over him all the while, a presence he wasn't quite as used to as that of Slim and Junior.

"If you want to talk, talk," Bossman said, all the while keeping his eyes on the traps he'd set up.

"I don't get it, boss," Fedele said, after a moment's hesitation. "Why let the Foundation and Cults kill the Powerpuff Girls when we're, you know, showing them the good life?"

"Now there's a good story in there," Bossman growled as he kept up his vigil of the hole in the hedge the foxes would come out of. "Remember that day when I told you about my pa? Naw, I don't think you do. I was half-drunk and you were half an inch away from being KO'ed. 'We'll build ourselves a new home,' he said when we were on our way to America aboard a ship. He died a few weeks later from some American flu he had no money to treat. Now we, the Ricci brothers, live on. For years, we lived on, even though the streets wanted to swallow us whole. We were just kids then, nothing resourceful like my pa, but we survived, and we tamed the streets, and here we are."

"What does that got to do with the Powerpuffs?" Fedele asked.

"If you're going, you're going. If you're staying, you're staying. If they couldn't survive then, they're no use to us now. But we know how that story went, don't we?" the Bossman said as he pulled a cigar out and gripped it with his teeth. "They're here to stay, it looks like."

Soon after he said it, three foxes crawled through the hole in the backyard hedges. The creatures stalked through the backyard, only for two of them to step on bear traps. The shrieks could be heard very clearly and loudly even from where the mobsters stood. The third fox bolted, abandoning its kin, slipping through the hole in the hedges quickly.

"For now, anyway. They have yet to pass all their tests. The Family will thrive with or without them."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 1923.**

Professor Utonium stood before his blackboards, dumbfounded by what he had found out. After nearly three days of unceasing, hyper-concentrated toil, he had found the conclusion to his project to find a cure for Bunny.

There was no cure.

Bunny was fated to die.

It was inevitable.

From a biological standpoint, Bunny was born dependent on Chemical X2. Even before the symptoms of her Chemical X2 poisoning manifested, she would have died had he deprived her of her innate Chemical X2 by means of Anti-X2. The biological processes of her body was highly efficient and even hyperactive in some areas such as her brain and senses, healing factor, and even her balance system, which would constantly use micro-X-thrusts to maintain perfect balance. Remove the Chemical X2 and her body would draw that energy from conventional stores of energy: her blood sugar. She would instantly enter hypoglycemia. The shock to her system would be so extreme it would cause death.

Removal of the Chemical X2 after her symptoms had manifested would have resulted in worse consequences. The body-wide tumors, perforations, bleeding and general tissue aberrations, and genetic scrambling were caused by Chemical X2 poisoning, but the same Chemical X2 was responsible for stimulating rapid recovery from both illnesses and injuries alike through the injection of both energy and materials 'peeled' off of the Chemical X2. Should the Chemical X2 be removed at this stage, the physical and oncological maladies would remain but Bunny's healing factor and resistance to disease and injuries would be removed, resulting in a swift and painful death.

Despite his mania and single-minded obsession, he was still methodical in his approach to a cure. Since eliminating the Chemical X2 from Bunny's blood wasn't an option, he decided that the next logical step was to convert the Chemical X2 in her blood into Chemical X. It would require a reversal of the process to turn Chemical X into Chemical X2 through the attachment of the three additional chemical chains. It rapidly became clear, however, that this wasn't an option either, as injecting the catalytic agents into Bunny's bloodstream would result in some nasty side effects that were just as deadly as the Chemical X2.

Another idea he'd had that came from his fever dreams was to transfuse Chemical X into Bunny's body. Just like how Chemical W and Chemical X could clash and eliminate each other, he theorized that Chemical X and Chemical X2 would behave similarly. The ending process would involve gradually injecting more Chemical X into Bunny that would directly replace the function of Chemical X2. Once again, the professor was thwarted in his insanity to cure a dead daughter. Chemical X2 was far more potent than Chemical X. It would have taken over ten times the amount of Chemical X to neutralize the Chemical X2 in her blood. That wouldn't have been the problem in and of itself. It would be a very long process as the Chemical X2 would regenerate itself. However, the hammer that shattered his theory into a million broken pieces was the fact that Chemical X could not replace the functions of Chemical X2 entirely. It was far too weak to do so. Bunny would die, and it wouldn't be a mercy that she would die a slower death from the effects of a dozen types of cancer and autoimmunity syndromes.

The walls would close in on Professor Utonium one after another. The fact that he couldn't get rid of Chemical X2 in Bunny had locked many doors for him. He had half a dozen other approaches taken away because of this fact. He couldn't neutralize the Chemical X2 and render it inert even if existent - it would produce the same outcome as destroying it with Anti-X2. He couldn't leave Bunny as she was while forbidding her to use and develop her enhancements any further as the damage to her body would continue to mount. A gradual depletion of the Chemical X2 by small doses of Anti-X2 wouldn't work either, nor would seizing the increase in Chemical X2 concentration in Bunny's blood. Either way, Bunny would have died as the level of damage to her physique and genetics wouldn't go away readily. The reduction of Chemical X2 brings reduced recovery, which would be fatal. Maintaining X2 concentration would continue to accumulate the damage anyway.

And that wasn't even the half of it. Even if the Chemical X2 in her blood could be rendered harmless or eliminated, there was still the damage done to her genetics and body, the damage he had never seen before even as a doctor in an organization who had worked with the most dangerous laboratory and battlefield conditions owing to its obsession with Chemical X and its predecessors.

And suppose that there was some cure - some serum or treatment he had theoretically devised - what then? It would have still taken weeks, if not months, to develop it into something practical - a timeframe that Bunny had little hope of surviving.

There was no hope.

Like a dream, Bunny was meant to come and go, fade away as quickly as she came into their lives as though she never existed.

The professor clutched his head as he realized the truth, pulling at his hair as he screamed at the top of his lungs, as memories flashed in his mind, both good and bad. The good was all the more painful because they remained as that: memories. He'd reached the bottom of the abyss of his sin and it didn't look pleasant. He had played god, created life just to safeguard three others, and by god, that life was short and filled with pain and suffering, ending in wretched disease and mutilating injuries.

He fell to his knees, still screaming. For how long he had done this, he did not know. The next thing he knew, he found himself lying on the floor, passed out from thirst or hunger or exhaustion. Despite how much he was suffering from depriving himself, he still found himself questioning whether he should get up at all.

'What's the point?' he thought. Getting up and nourishing himself wouldn't bring Bunny back. It wouldn't undo the past and his mistake. It seemed as if his heart was set on just withering away on the lab floor, but then he remembered Bunny's sacrifice, what it stood for, and why she did it.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. She died so that they might live. She had done it out of her own volition. Whether there was a cure or not, it mattered little. She would have foregone the cure to save them.

Getting up with difficulty, the professor made his way to the elevator, which brought him up to the airlock. For the first time in nearly three days, he went through the airlock.

Uncertainty struck him. It'd taken him the whole trip up, but he had only just realized that he had been neglecting his beloved Girls for the past three days, during a time they needed him most. He vaguely remembered it, but he recalled brushing Blossom off for talking about Bunny; it was another mistake he regretted.

He was about to go up the stairs to the Girls' room when he took a turn into the kitchen and raided the fridge for a beer. Sitting down on the kitchen floor, he began chugging one can after another, motivated as much by thirst and hunger as he was by a need to scrub his mind clean of all the horrible thoughts and memories in it.

He was back to passing out on the floor before he was done drinking. When Selicia discovered him in the kitchen, she moved him into her room before the Girls could discover him in such a mess: half his shirt was stained with beer as he was likely pouring the stuff into his mouth. Beer cans were all over the floor. Not only that, but he had also vomited some of his beer back out at some point, and now he was lying in a pool of his own vomit. It was difficult, but she tried to bathe him. He was heavy and it didn't help that he was being difficult, so she had to make do with a quick one before depositing him in bed. All the while, he'd been mumbling another name. Eileen.

Selicia had heard that name before, one too many times. It was his late wife. Hearing that name again both broke and enraged Selicia, told her that even after all this time, she couldn't compete with someone long dead. Stomping out, she slammed the door shut before leaning against it, trying hard to hold back tears.

She gritted her teeth. Blossom's to blame for this! She ruined everything!

Now, Selicia couldn't help but plan on breaking up the family. Blossom and Bubbles were, and still are, threats to the family. They had to be gotten rid of, and if that was to be a reality, there were people to talk to, red tape to get around.

But for now, she had to keep it all together - both herself and the family. Going out of the house, she searched the mailbox for any new letters from the USDO…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2330.**

Unknown to the Powerpuff Girls, who were fast asleep, a figure in black tactical gear stood in the garage, armed to the teeth with a huge sniper rifle, an SMG, and a holstered pistol. Holding up an opened letter, the person struck a match and spread the flame to a corner of the letter before leaving it on a tray at the workshop. The person pressed a button on a remote control close by, which closed the shutter in the garage. The heavy wind outside was cut off, but that wouldn't be the only thing to be cut off.

Leaving the garage, the person, some kind of operative from the USDO, went down to the laboratory. There wasn't even a need for stealth; the house was completely dark, and the operative's activities unexpected.

It took some time, but the operative had reached a power panel hardwired to the security systems of The House that was recently installed. Opening it, the operative was met with numerous buttons and LED lights, labeled according to what they do. Each button represented a powered security system.

The operative began flipping all the switches. Up above, shutters were lowered to block all the doors and windows. They weren't loud, and they weren't conspicuous. They were working as intended.

Before heading back up, the operative picked up a little something that could only be found in Professor Utonium's lab. The operative had to navigate in a remote corner of the lab, where the Duranium table was found. From there, the operative pulled out a device used for dispersing Anti-X. Operated remotely and electronically, it could nonetheless be activated manually by hand.

Back up, the operative began installing metal blockers on most doors, using material Selicia had procured to fulfill General Blackwater's order to fortify The House.

After locking down the master bedroom to cut off help from the Girls, the operative proceeded to the Girls' room. Slipping the nozzle of the Anti-X dispersal device from under the door, the operative turned it on to mist the room with Anti-X before barring the door to the Girls' room too.

The operative shouldered a Duranium anti-material rifle, and waited…


	132. Chapter 125: The Test (Part 2)

**Chapter 125: The Test (Part 2)**

**The City of Townsville. Pokey Oaks North. Juana-Berg Library.**

**20 JAN (Friday) 1989. 1521.**

Blossom had been looking at Dad, Bubbles, and Buttercup once in a while. They were sharing their own corner of the library, with the father lying down on a huge beanie seat while Bubbles and Buttercup each occupied a thigh. They were reading a kid's book on astronomy. Bubbles, as usual, was a good sport, but if nothing else, she liked the pictures in the book even if she wanted a book full of furry animals at first. Buttercup was yawning, but at least she seemed curious. Blossom wished she could join them, but the reason why she wasn't with Dad was that she already had her turn.

She turned to look up at Mom, who had been reading a book about furry rabbits. Watership Down. She had been at it for twenty minutes and… Blossom found it surprisingly cozy, and Mom was friendlier than usual.

It had been a long day, waking up early, school until past noon, and finally the trip to the library. It was so warm and cozy too… so very warm and cozy. Blossom dug deeper into Mom, hugging her like a pillow, her eyes falling shut, but resisting sleep as hard as she could. It was a weird feeling, falling asleep on Mom. It wasn't something she would have allowed.

Selicia closed the book she was reading, putting it aside. Reluctant, she wrapped her arms around Blossom, pulling her close.

For a time, they stayed that way, as if frozen in time, moving little. Blossom curled up into a ball while Selicia stroked her long, flowing red hair lovingly, for what seemed like the first time.

"Mom?" Blossom muttered as she sucked her thumb, something she hadn't done in months.

"Hmm?" Selicia said as she was leaning back, herself falling asleep too. Months and months of work had taken its toll.

"Why don't you love me?" Blossom said, her eyes, those pink jewels, finally closing from the weight of it all.

Selicia stayed silent. It was true that she couldn't bring herself to love this red-headed thing, but at the same time, she knew it wasn't normal. Anyone would have fallen for Blossom and consider themselves lucky to have a kid like her, even without considering the enhancements to the kid.

"I like it like this," Blossom mumbled, half-asleep. "Can it be like this forever?"

"No," Selicia said, at the same time still stroking her hair anyway. There was no going around it. She couldn't help but feel some sort of hard-wired hate towards Blossom as if it was burned into her. She never liked the know-it-all, and neither would she ever. She would never forgive her for her transgressions against Buttercup, nor will she ever accept who she was: someone who reminded her of everything she hated since she was a child herself. "I'm afraid not."

"Why not?" Blossom asked after yawning again.

"We're… just too different and…" Selicia said, stopping just short of stating her other reasons because one was the wrong reason to hate a kid while the other was impossible to divulge due to USDO protocols. "It happens. Not all mothers and daughters get along. We're just one example."

"Oh…" Blossom mewled, falling asleep regardless. "I'm sorry."

"If it means anything, so am I," Selicia said.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2334.**

Minutes had passed. The USDO operative in black gear continued to wait, for the sake of redundancy so that the job could safely be executed and the Powerpuff Girls… safely executed. But then something went wrong. The operative could hear coughing inside, followed by blankets being tossed aside, and the Girls wondering loudly about what was going on. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. The Girls were supposed to sleep through it, slipping into their final sleep quietly.

The mist was rising out of the gap underneath the door. It was the Anti-X solution. It was too thick that the Girls were reacting violently against it.

It might be premature, but it was time to act. The operative threw open the door and rushed inside, Duranium anti-material rifle up and night-vision goggles down. Only one of them was in bed, standing on it to be precise. The one named Bubbles. The others were on the floor.

It would have been possible to see them even without the night vision goggle. Their eyes, though dimmed from the diminished Chemical X concentration in their blood, continued to stand out in the dark.

The operative trained the Duranium rifle on Bubbles and was just about to fire when she backed away and fell off the bed, screaming about the 'shadow' in the room.

"I- I can't fly!" Bubbles yelled in shock after falling off the bed trying to fly away to some corner of the room, like an animal in a cage.

"My power! It's gone!" Buttercup yelled from where she was, hiding behind a pink table.

"It's the mist! It took away our powers!" Blossom yelled, putting two and two together. The shadow before them was barely illuminated. With the door closed, the only light source they could see by was the streetlamp outside. The operative turned around and lowered the Duranium rifle down at Blossom upon hearing her voice. Blossom's heart stopped at the sight, but she jumped out of the way when the operative fired the weapon; training and experience had prevailed, even if their enhancements hadn't.

Buttercup bolted for the walk-in closet while the operative was occupied with Blossom. However, running and opening a door without their usual powers was hard work, and before Buttercup could do it, the operative had already taken notice of her. Running up to her, the operative planted a foot on the door, slamming it shut just when Buttercup had opened it a little.

"No guns for the three little pigs," the operative said in digitally-scrambled voice. Buttercup tried stubbornly to open the door despite this, but the operative's weight was too much.

"RUN!" Blossom screamed as she went for the door, clutching her arm; despite jumping out of the way, she had been hit in the arm. Although it was just a graze wound, it was as painful as getting shot square in the chest, if not worse.

Together, the three Girls piled onto the door as the operative was hurrying to cycle the Duranium rifle, pulling open the bolt to remove the spent cartridge before drawing a fresh one into the chamber.

"Stop! Come back here, cowards!" the operative screamed in an ambiguous voice. The Girls were quick to open the door and run out. By the time the operative pointed the rifle at them, they had already disappeared out of the room. The operative cussed, realizing that the weapon wielded was deadly to the Girls but cumbersome. It was a sniper rifle, and it wasn't meant to be used in close-quarters combat.

Outside, the Girls ran. They ran as far as their disempowered little legs could carry them, slow compared to what they used to be able to do.

"Blossom, what do we do!?" Bubbles cried as she ran.

"Dad! We have to go get Dad!" Blossom exclaimed. At some point, they had reached the corridors near the stairs and Dad's room. Bubbles tripped on the carpet along the way, tumbling on the ground, the ordeal more painful than it should have been. Blossom and Buttercup turned, about to help her, only to find that the operative had appeared close to the stairs.

"Run! Blossom, Buttercup, run!" Bubbles screeched and in a burst of speed, ran at the operative, tackling the assassin by the legs, managing to topple the adult surprisingly. As it turned out, the disempowerment was, once again, incomplete, and the Girls still had some of their strength left, enough to put up something resembling a fight.

Blossom stared in horror as Bubbles had practically just sacrificed herself. Buttercup had to pull her along, not because she wanted to save Blossom, but because she could use an ally during such circumstances. Together, they ran for the professor's door, the door leading to the master bedroom.

Meanwhile, Bubbles tried to wrestle the operative while the operative was on the ground, reaching for the arms in an attempt at restraining the operative, but she was easily pushed away. Jumping to his feet, the operative kicked Bubbles in the face while recovering, and when Bubbles tried to get up again, the operative seized her by the arms and threw her over the railings of the corridor overlooking the living room.

Bubbles plummeted down to the ground floor, screaming. The operative, meanwhile, recovered the Duranium sniper rifle that was dropped.

Blossom and Buttercup were banging their fists on Dad's door when this happened, screaming for Dad to come out.

"Girls, what's going on!?" Dad's voice came from the other side, quite readily. It was impossible for the professor not to be. The gunshot had been quite loud that it could be heard from every corner of The House. "The door's stuck! Open the door, quick!"

"Dad! I can't! My powers are gone!" Blossom cried as she tried desperately to wrench the door open. Despite twisting the doorknob and pulling and pushing, it wouldn't give way. Buttercup searched the door for a reason, only to find a metal blocker at the bottom of the door, something which had fastened the door to the wall.

"It's stuck! Something's blocking the door!" Buttercup said as she tried to yank it free, but the metal blocker was locked down tight.

The sound of a gun's bolt being opened and shut, however, got Blossom and Buttercup to flee deeper into the dark corridors. Looking back while she was running away, Blossom saw that the shadow wasn't even pursuing them, wasn't even aiming the Duranium rifle at them. She crashed into a wall after that before falling on her bum.

"Ow!" Blossom said. Even navigation without her enhanced senses and reflexes was a chore. It didn't help, either, that they couldn't use their eyes as flashlights. Buttercup had to pull Blossom to her feet. Both of them continued fleeing deeper into the second floor of The House.

Looking back before she turned a corner, however, Blossom did not see the operative pursuing them, still, and that troubled her more for some reason.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2340.**

The operative turned around, going down the stairs instead, the Duranium rifle in tow.

On the first floor, Bubbles moaned, half-unconscious after being tossed over the railings from the second floor. She had landed head-first, something which would have killed any other little girls, but even without most of her Chemical-X-induced enhancements, she was still tough enough, held together by what little of the chemical remained in her blood.

A shadow padded down the stairs, silent despite the heavy-looking all-black gear it was wearing. Light that was flooding in from the front windows made it clear who it was: a rather shapely woman in black uniform and black tactical gear. Bubbles could recognize it as USDO. She had a submachine gun hanging on her shoulder, a pistol on her belt. A full helmet, face mask, and night vision device obscured the assassin's identity.

The operative stood over Bubbles, sticking the barrel of the Duranium rifle down on Bubbles' skull. The enhanced Girl tried fighting back, at first grabbing the muzzle of the weapon and pushing it away, not letting go despite being kicked in the face and the mouth several times, but the operative eventually gained the upper hand when she stepped on Bubbles' back and tore the gun away from her grip.

"Nighty-night, Bubs," the operative said with a digitally distorted voice as she pressed the muzzle of the Duranium gun on Bubbles' skull again. It was then that Bubbles had a realization, something that shocked her, disarming her completely. At that moment, she'd stopped fighting, and all hope was lost.

The operative depressed the trigger on her Duranium gun and would have hit home had someone not tackled the operative.

The operative crashed on the floor. Two little forms crawled over the operative, reaching for the gun as Bubbles sat up to watch, still in shock from what she had just realized. Could it be true?

It had been Blossom and Buttercup, who had returned to help Bubbles; they knew exactly why the operative did not pursue them when they saw that Bubbles wasn't with them.

While Blossom was scrambling for the gun, Buttercup wrapped her arms around the operative's face.

"Stop, damn it!" the operative screamed. "Stop it!"

Despite how Buttercup had a stranglehold on the operative's neck, the operative was still able to get up and whirl about, trying to throw Buttercup off. Upon seeing that Blossom was about to reach the Duranium rifle, the operative kicked her in the ribs, sending the disempowered Blossom rolling across the living room floor, clutching her chest.

"Blossom!" Bubbles screamed. Seeing the operative punting her across the living room floor like that had jolted her out of her shocked state. Jumping at the operative, Bubbles wrapped herself around the operative's right leg; without her powers, it was all she could do.

For a moment there, the operative was almost dancing, trying to shake the Girls loose. When that didn't work, the operative dropped down on her back, smashing Buttercup against the floor, which did the trick for half the problem, and when Bubbles still refused to let go, the operative, now with her other leg unoccupied, stuck a boot in her face, and that was it.

Now free, the operative ran for the gun. The Girls, however, were not down and out. Motivated by pure fear now that they were deprived of their enhancements, they booked it, scattering in all directions.

The first Girl the operative saw had gone through the airlock. The operative had seen a shape flitting into it just when she turned to look. The operative thought that it must have been Bubbles, so the operative gave chase.

"That brat! I'm going to kill you even if that's the last thing I do!" the operative said, voice still synthesized. The operative tried to open the airlock only to discover that it was shut. There was the sound of air venting inside, and another set of doors opening. Bubbles was escaping deeper into the complex.

By the time the operative was able to gain access to the airlock, her target was already gone, and what made it worse was that the airlock had to cycle again for her to pass through. Going in with the Duranium rifle up, the operative scanned the visible part of the stairs. Empty. The operative checked the elevator. The LED above indicated that it was coming up from the basement floor. Someone had used it before.

Aware that an ambush might be waiting below, the operative descended the stairs instead, Duranium anti-material rifle always pointing forward. But nothing jumped out at her no matter how many turns she made on the stairs.

"Clever girl…" the operative quipped upon reaching the foot of the stairs. Debating whether or not she should flip the lights on, the operative decided against it, preferring the cover of darkness and the safety it provided over risky expediency. There were things in the lab - instruments, equipment, and chemicals - that could be used as weapons, and the operative didn't want to be at the business end.

The only problem was, the operative's night vision goggles were damaged in the struggle, and it kept flickering. She had no choice but to take it off and search for Bubbles the old-fashioned way. Slinging her Duranium rifle, the operative opted for the submachine gun instead. Weaken the target before killing her - the operative had decided on a new tactic.

The operative continued moving forward, towards Professor Utonium's desk, gun pointing left and right. Despite her best efforts, however, something was still able to jump the operative. Clinging around the operative's neck, Bubbles pulled at the operative's helmet as she plunged some kind of a blade into the operative's neck.

When Bubbles pulled the blade back, the operative was able to seize her by the hand to prevent another stab. But something snapped, and the operative's helmet came off. Not only that, but so did the operative's face mask.

The operative threw Bubbles off after that. The Girl fell to the ground chest-first but had gotten up to run away immediately after that.

The operative gave chase, following the Girl into the tighter corners of the labs that were filled with little rooms mostly used for storage. The operative was clutching her neck as the bleeding was quite serious.

The Girl wasn't very fast. Without her enhancements, she couldn't run much faster than a normal child. The operative followed her closely and caught a break when the Girl made a wrong turn and ended up in one of the many little rooms.

The operative entered it, switching to her Duranium rifle. It was the perfect place to execute one of the Powerpuff Girls, as there was no way she could escape from her. The room was preceded by its very own airlock, for some reason. The glass all around wasn't plain glass. It was bulletproof glass, which came with a steel mesh inside. It didn't take long for the operative to discover why. The room was used for Chemical X storage. There were rows upon rows of the stuff, shelves filled with huge glass bottles containing the black goop. Professor Utonium had been busy - at least before Bunny's death - with stockpiling the stuff like good wine.

Bubbles stood at the end of this room, pounding on the bulletproof glass, but the transparent wall rang hollow and wouldn't break.

"It's time to pay for your sins, Bubbles," the operative said, this time in an unfiltered voice as she was without her mask. The voice was familiar, way too familiar…

The operative came closer, Duranium rifle pointed at Bubbles' skull… Only to realize that the Powerpuff Girl she had been hunting wasn't Bubbles. It had been Buttercup, a fact the darkness had occluded during the chase.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2344.**

Buttercup pressed herself against the wall of the Chemical X storeroom. The operative had cornered her, taking steps towards her, her shapely figure getting bigger and bigger, and all hope was lost until…

"Buttercup?" the operative before her said, a hint of surprise in her voice. Buttercup looked up at the operative, only to discover yet another surprise.

The operative had been Mom all along, Selicia Goodwin.

"Mom?" Buttercup said, her voice and the whole of her being shaken. For the entirety of the chase, she had been fighting for her life. Never had she been this afraid before, but confusion quickly replaced fear. "Why are you trying to kill me?" Buttercup's voice was almost cracking up as she was close to tears.

"Oh Buttercup, I didn't mean it!" Selicia said, herself close to tears considering how close she had executed her one and only favorite, Buttercup. "I thought you were Bubbles-" Selicia paused for a second, realizing how wrong that sounded, but that had been her intention: killing Bubbles. She was supposed to pick one to keep and kill the others. Those were the orders.

"I'm so sorry, Buttercup," Selicia said. "Why don't you come here? We'll leave all this behind and start over."

Reluctantly, Buttercup started forward, sticking a hand out for Selicia to take…

Only, Selicia would never be able to take it. Before Buttercup could reach her, there were gunshots, and bullets were ripping through her chest. Selicia stumbled sideways, grabbing hold of a shelf full of Chemical X for support, her free hand clutching her chest as she felt her life slipping away, still staring at Buttercup.

Buttercup could only stare in shock when she realized that Mommy wasn't going to be around for much longer.

The shelf Selicia was using for support fell forward, crashing down on her as she collapsed. Bottles of Chemical X broke all over her, and all around her. Buttercup saw someone behind Mom. A man holding a smoking gun.

A man wearing a lab coat. Professor Utonium. Dad.

And he killed MOM.

"YOU KILLED HER!" Buttercup screamed. If there ever was a time when she screamed like the little girl she was, it was now. "YOU KILLED MOM!"

It was as if Daddy didn't hear. Rushing over to Buttercup, pistol still smoking, he rounded Selicia's corpse to scoop Buttercup up and hold her in one arm. Buttercup screamed like a mad girl and started pounding at Dad with her fists.

"Let go of me! You killed Mom!" Buttercup screamed, and the professor heard every single word of it as if doing the deed of killing his own fiancee wasn't enough.

"I know, honey, I'm sorry…" the professor said, wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his free arm as he went out of the Chemical X storeroom. Blossom and Bubbles had been standing outside the storeroom, pale-faced from what they heard.

Buttercup would continue to scream and kick and beat the professor even as they crossed the lab and went up to the ground floor, living room before the professor had had enough and deposited her on the couch before the fireplace.

"She tried to kill you, Buttercup!" the professor shouted at Buttercup, more from fresh and old grief than anger.

"She wasn't trying to kill me!" Buttercup cried. All Blossom and Bubbles could do was sit by the fireplace, on the floor, and leaning against the masonry.

"She was holding her gun up at you!" the professor yelled. "She shot Blossom!"

"She said we could have a fresh start!" Buttercup cried. "She was going to take me away!"

The professor paused, his lips trembling. In his mind, it was all coming together, why Selicia would do such a horrible thing. Still, the uncertainty and pain of ignorance bit at him, and he wasn't sure if it would ever go away - if he would ever find out the truth.

"It was a trap. Period," he said without knowing for sure.


	133. Chapter 126: The Test (Part 3)

**Chapter 126: The Test (Part 3)**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2348.**

Ever since it happened, The House felt dirty, tainted. It'd felt that way even though the professor had moved the Girls back up the second floor, back to his room. The door of his room had reminded him of everything too. The door was broken, the bottom half of it chipped away by bullets to circumvent the metal blocker at the bottom that was locking up the door...

He had called Captain Scott in the meantime, who was assisted by Lieutenant Blake. The USDO special operative had returned to the site to camp his men at a nearby house only to be drawn into this.

In the meantime, he had a huge personal crisis on his hands. He had to shoot and kill his own girlfriend and fiancee to save Buttercup and her sisters, who were likely next on Selicia's hit list. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were raised with the impression - the lie - that Selicia was their mother. Needless to say, that meant lots of problems. Blossom and Bubbles now had to deal with the fact that their Mom tried to kill them, while Buttercup had been led to believe that he had murdered Mom when all he was trying to do was to protect her.

Even Asian drama shows had nothing on what had gone down this night.

In the master bedroom, the professor had sat the Girls down on his bed - except Buttercup had gone off on her own to sit at the dressing table on her own, mesmerized by the wedding veil Selicia had left there, and the wedding dress hanging nearby. A mere glimpse of those artifacts was painful enough for the professor that he had to force himself to ignore Buttercup in favor of Blossom and Bubbles.

Taking a first-aid kit from the washroom, he began treating Blossom's graze wound, applying antiseptic more out of a doctor's habit than medical necessity before bandaging the wound.

"Daddy…" Bubbles muttered. "Why did Mom try to kill us?"

The million-dollar question he had no answer to.

"Will she be alright?" Blossom added. It was a question he had all the answers to, but it was a question he didn't really want to answer.

In the end, the professor did not answer either of them. All he could think about right now was the USDO security teams sweeping through The House. They would no doubt have to collect Selicia's body…

The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.

14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2349.

Captain Scott and a few handpicked men descended down into the labs, where a panicked professor said was where Sergeant Selicia Goodwin could be found. He could hardly believe what he said, that Selicia had turned against the bioweapons, and therefore the USDO. Although he wasn't very involved in the relationship between Professor Utonium and Selicia, he knew that they were close and he was invited to their wedding, which had been delayed and, now, likely canceled for good. Why Selicia would do this was beyond him.

Regardless, he and his men scoured the labs for any possible intruders, in order to anticipate all possible scenarios, but there was not a soul to be found. Selicia was working alone.

Going through the winding corridors of the busiest corner of the lab, they came upon a trail of blood and some kind of black substance on the floor, going in a direction contrary to their own. The soldiers with Captain Scott raised their weapons, now afraid of some kind of force at work in the labs.

The trail of blood and black substance continued in the distance, eventually tapering off into spots of blood, but the captain was more interested in scouting out the deathbed of Selicia first. Going in the opposite direction of the trajectory of the blood trail, the security team traced it all the way to the Chemical X storeroom, where they found where it had happened.

Going through the airlock, they found that a shelf had collapsed, with broken bottles all around the mess. Chemical X had formed a pool on the floor.

There were no corpses anywhere, and somehow, Captain Scott expected it…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2351.**

Agent Blake and his men were left to guard the exterior of The House when gunshots rang out inside. He had been provided very little information on what was going on. Captain Scott had gone into The House immediately, leaving his lieutenant to brief him on what was going on. Apparently, Captain Scott's right-hand man knew about as much as he did, which was nothing. There was something the captain wasn't telling anyone, and now it was exploding in everyone's faces. Blake could only speculate that some enemy operatives had survived, and were beginning to wreak havoc again.

Whistling to his men, Agent Blake raised his XM4 carbine, approaching The House cautiously. His men formed wings on his left and right. They were more than halfway to the front door when it opened and out walked the form of a shapely woman in black USDO uniform and gear, shambling out almost as if drunk, hunched as if exhausted, an MP5 in one hand. Prodigiously long hair covered her face, hair that was more than waist length. Locks of hair curled at the end, swaying with the dying wind. The locks of hair seemed as if they were curling and flexing on their own - or was it the wind?

Blake could recognize her. Selicia Goodwin. He'd worked with her for years, and would have been able to identify her in the dark. But the hair - how did it get so long? And was that blood on her uniform?

"Selicia, what's going on in there? Who's attacking us?" Blake asked. Selicia raised her SMG as a reply. "What are you doing!?"

She opened fire without warning, sweeping her bullets across Blake and his squad, who fired back, but it was ultimately a one-sided encounter as bodies fell. Several bullets zipped through Blake himself, who fell over, face to the sky. By the time it was over, only one man in Blake's squad remained, crouching low on the ground defensively.

Selicia stared at this man, whose eyes met hers. He was a young soldier in his early twenties, a corporal who had joined the USDO only months ago. Walking over to him, she caressed his cheek with a hand before staggering away into the night, towards an unoccupied humvee. There were still some soldiers in Blake's squad who were alive and well, hiding behind their Lamborgini Speed Transports, but somehow, when they set their eyes on her, they refused to open fire, whether due to fear or something more insidious and unknown. Mesmerized by the lady, the young corporal followed her and got into the humvee with her.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**14 MAR (Tuesday) 1989. 2353.**

When gunshots rang out in the lawn of The House, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup became curious and ran to the circular windows to see just what else had transpired. What they found on the lawn shocked them.

Soldiers lay in the snow, pools of blood spreading underneath them, eight in all. A dark shadow was walking away from the scene, a figure with black waist-length hair and black USDO uniform and gear. But how could it be? Wasn't Mom dead in the basement?

No, it couldn't be Mom. Mom was dead.

It was another traitor, the Girls each thought on their own, just like the police officers who rained on their parade.

Blossom stared at the men on the ground. It didn't take long for her to notice that Blake was among them. So were Fields, Holliday, Rutherland, and a few others who had been kind to her. Her eyes misted up at the sight of her friends on the ground. Their friendship had been built over the months, and now it had been extinguished in an instant.

When it was all over, men from all sides swarmed the soldiers who had been shot down, checking for pulses, ripping open combat gear and fabric, and applying first aid with tourniquet and bandages where applicable.

Blossom ran out of her room when she saw it, followed by Bubbles and Buttercup, running past even the professor and down the stairs. Zooming straight through the front door, she stood at an arm's length from the crowd of USDO soldiers gathering to save their fellows, unsure of what to do. What could she do except watch?

One by one, her close ones were leaving her, and this time, it was Mom and Blake and all the friends he had brought along during the early days. The world was getting smaller; it was as if walls were closing in all around her, slowly but surely.

Professor Utonium caught up with her within seconds, pulling her away as she began to cry shrilly, followed by Bubbles. Buttercup stared, looking a little shocked and teary-eyed - Blake and his team had gotten through to her somewhat, if only because they were cool, and doubled as fun playmates. The professor pulled her along too.

"Don't look at them," the professor said, himself badly shaken by recent events, held together only by his love for what remained of his patchwork family. He pulled Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup along, guiding them back towards The House. "Just keep walking, don't look back."

The professor would lead them back down to the lab as a medical checkup was necessary after what they had been through. He forced himself to work, to ignore the call of the alcohol, the gun, and misery as he tended to his surviving family.

When the Girls were put to bed, he returned to the Chemical X storeroom, where he sat on the floor and watched as Selicia's blood dried on the floor, wondering how Selicia's body would be treated. Would it be dumped into a furnace without a second's thought? Or should he expect a second funeral in a day or two?

Little did he know, just like his Girls, there was no body, and Selicia was still out there, somewhere…

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**15 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1021.**

The next day, no one came to arouse Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup from their sleep. Waking up on their own, one after the other, they wondered how life was going to continue from here, now that Mom was gone forever.

Blossom was the first to leap off her bed, discovering that some of her strength had returned, as did her speed and reflexes. It was small comfort, nothing that could take her mind off of the recent family tragedies. Morosely, she jumped in an attempt to hover or even fly but found herself falling back down on her feet again. The only consolation was that she could jump high enough to vault over her sisters and land softly enough that it didn't hurt her feet.

"Is Mom coming in to get us?" Bubbles yawned, still on her way from dreamland, her memories of yesterday dangerously close to the surface but chained to the seafloor by the anchor of trauma. She was sitting up in bed before pulling her legs closer into a cross-legged sitting position.

"Mom's dead, dumb-dumb!" Buttercup scolded Bubbles after jumping off the bed, annoyed that Bubbles had reminded her of Mom's death. She was already beginning to regret saving her.

"Oh…" Jolted awake abruptly by Buttercup, Bubbles remembered now, everything that had transpired yesterday, how Mom nearly killed her; had it not been for Blossom and Buttercup's interference, she wouldn't have still been around.

"Let's go..." Blossom said reluctantly while approaching Buttercup and taking her hand. "Dad's still not here too, and I'm worried about him." She tugged at Buttercup, who decided to follow… for now. Halfway to the door, she stopped and turned to Bubbles. "Come on…"

Reluctantly, Blossom led her sisters out of the room, and when there was no Dad in the corridor outside, she took them to his room, only to, once again, find no parent to turn to. Their stomachs rumbled, so they turned around and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Similarly, there was no Dad at the stairs, the living room, and the kitchen. But there were signs that he had been around, and it could be detected even before they see it.

There was the smell of kitchen activity; freshly prepared meals, discarded ingredients. When they entered the kitchen, they saw three meals, ready to eat. Pancakes with Chemical X-infused maple syrup and greyish milk also infused with Chemical X.

"I don't feel like eating…" Bubbles mewled, memories of a more complete family still digging at her like a sword. They used to sit here together, as a family. Dad, Mom, Blossom, herself, and Buttercup. Back in January, Mister Blake would visit occasionally. It hurt to see the table so empty.

Buttercup, meanwhile, had no such compunctions. Making a beeline for the nearest seat, she hoisted herself up and poked the pancake with the fingertip of her index finger. It wasn't very warm, which meant that it was prepared some time ago, perhaps half an hour ago.

"What's wrong? It's good food!" Buttercup said before picking up a bottle of maple syrup and squirting more of it onto her pancake. Cutting herself a large slice, she devoured it hungrily.

"Come on, Bubbles," Blossom pulled her by the hand. "We didn't really eat much yesterday." Reluctantly, Bubbles followed. Despite how little appetite she had, it was a whole different story when she got down to eating. The Chemical X was addictive as it was something her unique physiology craved after being poisoned by Anti-X twice over the past few days. Still, Bubbles had nothing on Buttercup, who in the absence of adult supervision, got so hungry for it that she abandoned her fork and knife for her hands, chomping away at her pancakes, huge pieces at a time.

* * *

**Phone Recording 03151989-1342-TH**

**DOC: 15 MAR (Wednesday) 1989.**

**EXTRACTED: 20 MAR (Monday) 1989.**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

(The phone's ringtone sounds as the phone line waits for a connection)

Psychiatrist Alice: Hello? Thomas? Is that you?

B-47 (Blossom): No… It's me.

Psychiatrist Alice: Blossom? It's me, Alice. Where's your father?

B-47 (Blossom): Oh… he's… (breaks out into a sob)

Psychiatrist Alice: Honey, what's wrong?

B-47 (Blossom): He wouldn't talk to me! Or Bubbles, or… or… (sobs)

Psychiatrist Alice: Where is he right now?

B-47 (Blossom): In the lab…

Psychiatrist Alice: How is he? Is he okay?

B-47 (Blossom): I don't know. He looks… really messed up.

Psychiatrist Alice: What do you mean?

B-47 (Blossom): His face is all hairy and scary looking and he smells! He looks terrible!

Psychiatrist Alice:That's… Look, I'll be coming over. Can you hold on until tomorrow?

B-47 (Blossom): Can't you come today? Please?

Psychiatrist Alice: I can't. I wish I could, but I'm not allowed to because of security concerns, apparently.

B-47 (Blossom): But…

Psychiatrist Alice: Is your dad taking care of you?

B-47 (Blossom): Yes…

Psychiatrist Alice: Did he feed you?

B-47 (Blossom): He cooked for us but he wouldn't talk to us.

Psychiatrist Alice: Alright. Give me a call if that changes. Just… hang in there and I'll be there at the usual time tomorrow.

B-47 (Blossom): Okay…

Psychiatrist Alice: I… heard about what happened to your Mom. I'm sorry.

B-47 (Blossom): (Silence)

Psychiatrist Alice: Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Take care of yourself. Bye.

B-47 (Blossom): (crying) Alice- Please don't go!

Psychiatrist Alice: I have to. I have work to do.

B-47 (Blossom): (crying) But I'm scared! Mom's gone, Mister Blake's gone and… Bunny's gone… and Dad won't talk to me. I feel so alone…

Psychiatrist Alice: I'll be there for you, honey, and soon. Just... stick with your sisters, Blossom. You're not alone and you're a leader, and from what I heard, a lieutenant, at four months old! And that's coming from the harshest soldier I've ever worked with.

One day, Blossom. Just one day and I'll be there.

B-47 (Blossom): Promise?

Psychiatrist Alice: I promise.

**-TRANSCRIPT END-**

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**15 MAR (Wednesday) 1989. 1816.**

It had happened again for the third time in a day. Dad would creep out of the lab to cook for Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, only to ignore them when they actually tried to talk to him. For dinner, Blossom and Bubbles (Buttercup had stopped caring since breakfast if she ever cared at all) had even waited at the kitchen to intercept him, only for Dad to ignore them and their pleas for attention as he began cooking for them. No matter how they pulled at his pants and cry and beg and scream, he acted as if they never existed.

And now Blossom had had it. When Dad was done cooking, he had, once again, retreated down to his lab. After nibbling at the meal he prepared, she decided to head downstairs to the labs to find him.

Descending down the stairs, it was as if Blossom's losses were following her, catching up to her. Bunny was gone, and it was all her fault, and now Mom was gone, as was any chance at reconciliation, then there was Mister Blake and friends, all gunned down right in front of The House. She remembered her dream last night. It was the same dream as the night before, of Bunny glaring at her from a distance, and no matter how much she ran and flew to catch up to her, she couldn't reach her at all. Bunny would seem further away the harder Blossom tried, and all Bunny had to do was walk away, and then she was lost forever.

It felt as if Dad was going in the same direction too.

When Blossom was finally crossing the floor of the lab, she noticed that the place was poorly kept. The floor was dusty, with muddy bootprints of security officers still riddling the floor, a reminder of what had happened the previous day.

She couldn't find him anywhere. Not behind his self-ransacked desk, not at the workspaces where chemicals were stored and a cage of dead hamsters still stood, not at the medical wing where she had spent far too much time in. She eventually went in search of him at the cubicles, where she found him huddled against the wall just outside the Chemical X storeroom. He was still a mess, and the last time he'd washed up was when Selicia did it for him. His stubbles had grown longer and his face was still pallid, as if from permanent shock.

The Chemical X storeroom hadn't been cleaned at all. The shelves that had pinned Selicia's corpse had been violently tossed aside by… something - perhaps the security officers intervening? Her blood was still in the room, along with a copious amount of Chemical X, which did not evaporate nor dry. The blood and Chemical X weren't confined to the storeroom. There was a trail of it leading out, something which was a mystery to Blossom, a mystery which she didn't care to solve.

"Dad?" Blossom called out to the professor. He didn't reply. She got closer, but she didn't dare come that close. "Why won't you talk to us?"

She was met with silence again. The professor wouldn't even look at her, wouldn't even acknowledge her.

"Dad, please. Bunny's gone and now Mom and Mister Blake's gone too…" Blossom said tearfully. She sat down next to Dad, and with some apprehension, went for a hug-

Only for the professor to get up abruptly the moment she touched him, pushing her away roughly.

"Get away from me," the professor warned her with a whispery voice before walking briskly away. Blossom, already tearful, followed behind him, just as confused as to why Dad wouldn't even talk to her, or even so much as be with her - and her sisters.

"Why are you being like this?" Blossom cried behind him as they left the cubicles behind. "Dad, I know I'm wrong! Please! Bunny died because of me! I'm sorry!"

She tried to stop him from walking away by hugging his leg, only for the professor to whirl around aggressively.

"I said get away from me!" he barked at her, fists clenched. Taken aback, Blossom stepped away, shrinking from his yell.

"But- no!" Blossom cried.

"We were never meant to be a family! Don't you see- don't you get it!? I- I can't take care of you anymore!" the professor screamed madly before running away, disappearing around the corner, leaving a stunned Blossom behind.


	134. Chapter 127: Wretches

**Chapter 127: Wretches**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**16 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 1948.**

The Head of the USDO social services, Alice, stepped out of her old banged-up wagon car, adjusting her thick spectacles. She could feel the oppressive aura of The House even from afar. It had changed drastically, and this was reflected even superficially, with the first-floor windows shuttered. She had been briefed on what to expect. Sergeant Selicia Goodwin had attacked the Powerpuff Girls, the local Powerpuff Task Force detachment, and an assisting security force before disappearing into the night. It was deemed likely that Selicia had died on the retreat, judging by the amount of blood she had lost.

There were soldiers waiting for her this time, and they escorted her to the front door after a pat-down; they were likely afraid that someone else from within the USDO might attack the Girls. When that was done, she pressed the doorbell and waited.

There was the gentle patter of small feet. Someone on the other end had to struggle to unlatch the door and unlock it. The door finally opened after that. Blossom stood at the door, wearing her signature pink dress and black sash. It was dirty with food stains and wet from water at places, possibly due to spilled beverages. Her face was similarly dirty, and her red bow was askew, set upon hair that was all stringy and greasy, with single strands going haywire all over the place. Whatever was going on, Blossom wasn't being well taken care of. Alice could only expect Bubbles and Buttercup to look the same.

Something had to be done. After accepting a good, long, and tearful hug from Blossom, Alice made her way through The House and up the stairs first, witnessing first-hand the horror within. Boot prints were all over the carpet. There were stains and trash everywhere. The coffee table still bore the same coffee and alcohol stains from Selicia's final binge. The kitchen smelled, and soiled plates were far more common than clean countertops. A swarm of flies was buzzing over a kitchen sink full of unwashed crockeries.

Heading up the stairs, she went through the Girls' doors to find a condition that was barely liveable. Toys and books and clothes were scattered all over the place. The bed was unmade to the extreme. There was a foul odor in the air, and it finally occurred to Alice that the Girls hadn't bathed nor changed their clothes.

Bubbles was sitting against the foot of the bed, hugging Octi. Her thousand-yard stare concerned Alice deeply, and the syringes by her side made things look worse. How long had she been sitting there? And those syringes… Buttercup, on the other hand, seemed too oblivious to the deterioration of the family; she was indulging in her toy cars, imitating sounds coming from a normal day of traffic. She was the filthiest of the three, with mud all over her dress and body. What had she been doing?

The first thing that Alice did wasn't to sit the Girls down for a psychiatric session. It was to herd them into the bathroom for a much-needed bath, with some resistance from Buttercup. Buttercup's response was expected, but her surviving sisters' weren't. They seemed apathetic to the idea. Their minds were on something else, such that a bath, an activity that girls normally liked, had sailed over their heads.

Alice had tried her best to take care of them as a mother would, but it was hard. The Girls were uncooperative. Blossom and Bubbles were constantly spacing out, while Buttercup would grumble and hesitate and delay everything. Alice did not mind, however. She knew what was going on - Bunny's passing, the disappearance of Selicia, and Professor Utonium's total abandonment of his post. Yes, the professor's recent activity hadn't gone unnoticed even within the USDO, mainly because reports had been left unfiled, something which was almost unheard of with the professor.

She took her time, putting the Girls in the bathtub, foaming them up with soap and shampoo, cleaning them up and drying them, clothing them in fresh dresses. In the back of her mind, Alice had always wanted this. She had applied for it, only for General Blackwater to select Selicia over her as the Girls' 'mother'.

When the Girls were cleaned up, she had them seated at the living room before bringing Blossom to the professor's study, one of the few places in The House that were somewhat pristine and unsullied by discarded food and mud.

* * *

**B-47, B-48 & B-49 Psychiatric Session 03161989**

Excepts of the psychiatric session has been selected based on relevance. For the full transcript, please consult USDO administration.

**DOC: 16 MAR (Thursday) 1989.**

**Timestamp: 2021.**

**BLOSSOM**

**-TRANSCRIPT START-**

Psychiatrist Alice: You sure you don't want a marshmallow?

B-47 (Blossom): I don't feel like eating it…

Psychiatrist Alice: You don't have to if you don't want to. Anyway, let's get back into it, shall we?

B-47 (Blossom): Do we have to?

Psychiatrist Alice: Letting it all out is good for you. Don't you feel really lousy if you have no one to talk to about all your problems?

B-47 (BLossom): Yes…

Psychiatrist Alice: So, about Bunny. Do you blame yourself for her passing?

B-47 (Blossom): It's all my fault.

Psychiatrist Alice: Why do you say that?

B-47 (Blossom): I didn't believe her when she tried to tell me about the… the…

Psychiatrist Alice: The victory parade?

B-47 (Blossom): (Sobs) Yes. She died because of me.

Psychiatrist Alice: I think you need to-

B-47 (Blossom): (Sobbing) I was mean to her all the time, and I wish I could change all that (unintelligible)

Psychiatrist Alice: Blossom, hey, look at me. You didn't know. You couldn't have known.

B-47 (Blossom): (Sobbing) But I was mean to her and I never got to be with her.

Psychiatrist Alice: You were under a lot of pressure.

B-47 (Blossom): But I shouldn't have been mean to her…

Psychiatrist Alice: Yes, you shouldn't have, but we all make mistakes. Were you ever nice to her?

B-47 (Blossom): Yes… I taught her how to fly and we'd play sometimes. I talked to her when- when…

Psychiatrist Alice: When she was dying?

B-47 (Blossom): Yes…

Psychiatrist Alice: If I were her, that's all I would ever want, a good sister who'd stay with me to the end. Some people had to die alone, but not Bunny. You were kind to her before, and I think she sees that. I believe she remembered that all the way to the end. It's what people do to find comfort. See? It's not all bad.

B-47 (Blossom): Thanks…

Psychiatrist Alice: Now how about some juice and marshmallow?

(10 minutes later)

Psychiatrist Alice: How do you feel about… Mom?

B-47 (Blossom): She's… gone.

Psychiatrist Alice: Yes, she is. I'm sorry, Blossom. If this is too much…

B-47 (Blossom): No, it's nice talking to you. I… I don't know how I should feel.

Psychiatrist Alice: Are you upset?

B-47 (Blossom): Yes…

Psychiatrist Alice: Why?

B-47 (Blossom): She was nice to me before. She was really nice at the new year and in January after that. She would buy me sweets and toys, and she seemed really happy when we celebrated another birthday that month. She read me books…

Psychiatrist Alice: But she'd hurt you, didn't she?

B-47 (Blossom): Are you mad, Alice? Did I make you mad?

Psychiatrist Alice: I- no. I'm sorry. I was just thinking of something else.

B-47 (Blossom): She… she would hit me sometimes…

Psychiatrist Alice: How bad was it?

B-47 (Blossom): I'm not sure if I should say...

Psychiatrist Alice: There's nothing to be ashamed about. You shouldn't be the one who should be ashamed.

B-47 (Blossom): She said I was wrong and she's right.

Psychiatrist Alice: What did she do?

B-47 (Blossom): She would slap me until my lips hurt and there was this once- this once when…

Psychiatrist Alice: Go on… I'm here with you.

B-47 (Blossom): (Crying) She used a stun baton to- to shock me at maximum setting. I… I couldn't stop making a m-mess on the floor and she just kept shocking me with that thing!

Psychiatrist Alice: That's- She shouldn't be doing that.

B-47 (Blossom): (Crying) I deserved it. I was wrong to leave Bubbles out there, and Bunny died because of me…

Psychiatrist Alice: Blossom, stop. Two wrongs don't make a right. Has your father ever taught you that?

B-47 (Blossom): Yes…

Psychiatrist Alice: Then those were some of those times. Your mother shouldn't have done that to you. That's just wrong!

B-47 (Blossom): May I have a hug?

Psychiatrist Alice: Sure.

**BUBBLES**

Psychiatrist Alice: -And how are you doing with your, urm, medication?

B-49 (Bubbles): It's better… I guess…

Psychiatrist Alice: You don't sound so sure of yourself.

B-49 (Bubbles): I had an… urm… a…

Psychiatrist Alice: An episode?

B-49 (Bubbles): I attacked Blossom and Buttercup during the parade. I couldn't control myself.

Psychiatrist Alice: Is it because you took another dose of His Secret 2.0?

B-49 (Bubbles): No… It's strange - it was as if someone else was controlling me…

Psychiatrist Alice: Bubbles, the sensation of losing control is normal. Even adults have difficulty controlling themselves at times, and you're really young. You shouldn't blame yourself for it.

B-49 (Bubbles): I guess…

Psychiatrist Alice: I noticed several syringes by your side just now. Were you trying to overdose?

B-49 (Bubbles): Over…dose? N-no…

Psychiatrist Alice: Can you explain the syringes?

B-49 (Bubbles): Those were my medication… I've been sitting in my room all day, I guess… I think I might have fallen asleep too.

Psychiatrist Alice: I see. I- I apologize.

B-49 (Bubbles): Are you mad at me?

Psychiatrist Alice: No, just- just afraid for you. I was worried that with things this tough, that you'd-

B-49 (Bubbles): No, I won't.

Psychiatrist Alice: Excuse me?

B-49 (Bubbles): I don't ever want to do it again, taking those things. I don't ever want to hurt my family again. Besides, Daddy needs me, and so does Blossom… and Buttercup, too, I guess.

Psychiatrist Alice: You've changed a lot, you know that?

B-49 (Bubbles): I have?

Psychiatrist Alice: Yes. You're strong, determined, tough. You're something else altogether.

B-49 (Bubbles): Really?

Psychiatrist Alice: Yes. Last year, I saw was a terrified little girl forced to fight crime and endure all sorts of hardship. Now, you're a little girl and a heroine, fighting crime and saving the day for your family and friends.

B-49 (Bubbles): It's just…

Psychiatrist Alice: What's the matter? You seem upset.

B-49 (Bubbles): It's not enough… Bunny's still dead, and so is Mom. It's all my fault…

Psychiatrist Alice: Honey, it's not your fault.

B-49 (Bubbles): But it is! I didn't believe Bunny and now she's dead… Mom wanted to kill me and I deserve it. She died trying to punish me.

Psychiatrist Alice: Bubbles, look into my eyes. Good. You don't deserve to die! Whatever she's blaming you for, she's wrong. You were just- you were tricked, you made a mistake! She wasn't there for you and you were forced to make a choice you weren't prepared for!

B-49 (Bubbles): I don't know…

Psychiatrist Alice: But you were. Bubbles, I want you to take it to the next level. You've overcome your fears and weaknesses, and now I want you to overcome this trauma. You've done it before. You can do it again. Will you try that?

B-49 (Bubbles): I guess… You've always been nice to me.

Psychiatrist Alice: I'm glad to hear that. I'll always be here to help you along. We'll talk about it again next time. Here, let me show you something.

(Silence)

B-49 (Bubbles): How did you pull that out of my ear?

Psychiatrist Alice: Why it's magic! See? Anything is possible in this world. Here, you can have the coin. It's actually chocolate on the inside.

B-49 (Bubbles): Thanks, Miss Alice. I'll try to be better.

**BUTTERCUP**

Psychiatrist Alice: Okay, Buttercup, I think that's enough marshmallow for one night. That's half the pack, and it was a big one.

B-48 (Buttercup): (With mouth full) But I love marshmallows!

Psychiatrist Alice: Your Dad will never forgive me if I keep you up all night with all that sugar (laughs).

B-48 (Buttercup): Oh, he won't care. He doesn't care about me.

Psychiatrist Alice: Buttercup, I don't think that's true. Your Dad loves you more than anything, despite…

B-48 (Buttercup): 'Despite'? What do you mean 'despite'?

Psychiatrist Alice: Nothing. Look, your Dad cares about you. A lot.

B-48 (Buttercup): Then why did he kill Mom!?

Psychiatrist Alice: I don't know all the details, Buttercup, but didn't she try to kill you? That's what Captain Scott said. That's what your Dad said in the report, too.

B-48 (Buttercup): She wasn't trying to kill me!

Psychiatrist Alice: Okay, dear, calm down-

B-48 (Buttercup): DAD'S A BIG FAT LIAR! HE'S ALWAYS BEEN A BIG FAT LIAR!

Psychiatrist Alice: Buttercup!

B-48 (Buttercup): And you're lying too!

Psychiatrist Alice: Buttercup, sit down - you- you're going to hurt someone like this.

B-48 (Buttercup): You're afraid of me, aren't you? (sound of feet stepping on a table)

Psychiatrist Alice: I'm here to help you. Buttercup-

B-48 (Buttercup): Are you? I could kill you right now, Miss Alice, and it'd be very easy.

Psychiatrist Alice: (Heavy breathing) Buttercup, we're friends.

B-48 (Buttercup): We're not.

Psychiatrist Alice: Your Dad loves you, just- just remember that-

B-48 (Buttercup): 'Daddy' doesn't love me!

Psychiatrist Alice: What did you say? The way you said that…

B-48 (Buttercup): Can I go now? I wanna go to bed.

Psychiatrist Alice: S-sure, go right ahead.

B-48 (Buttercup): (sound of hand scooping up marshmallows and scrapping against glass) Bye, Miss Alice.

Psychiatrist Alice: Bye.

B-48 (Buttercup): (distant) Good thing I don't have to go to that stupid school tomorrow-

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**16 MAR (Thursday) 1989. 2138.**

When Alice was done putting the Girls in bed, it was her turn to search for the professor. Going by what Blossom said, the professor had been spending most of his days roaming the underground lab, more cryptid than a father at home. Even with the narrowed search area, it still took her some time to corner him.

Blossom's description of him did not do him justice.

"Thomas, I'm so glad to find you," Alice said, her tone more than awkward. The circumstances weren't exactly ordinary, even by psychiatric standards.

The professor said nothing. He was still slumped against the wall, at the same place where Blossom found him; outside the Chemical X storeroom. Alice had nearly lost her nerve, seeing all that blood mixed in with the Chemical X and how the floor was painted with them.

Professor Utonium did not reply.

Straightening her long skirt, Alice sat down on the floor opposite him, by the airlock door leading into Chemical X storage. The professor wasn't just neglected physically. She could tell instantly that, mentally, he was a tangled mess of ropes and knots.

"I've put the Girls to bed, Thomas," Alice said, hoping to coax some kind of a reaction out of him. Anything she could grapple on and turn things around with. When nothing came of it, she continued: "You know, I think they would have loved it if it was you putting them to bed."

Nothing.

"Thomas…" Alice went on, adjusting her spectacles. "What's gotten over you? I know you've lost a lot recently. Bunny… Selicia… But Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup need you. Grieve all you want, I'd encourage that, but what about the living?"

Nothing, once again.

"Look-" Alice said, but was swiftly interrupted this time.

"I can't," the professor croaked.

"Why not?" Alice asked.

"I just can't," he said.

"You can tell me, Thomas. How long have we known each other?" Alice said.

"Then you should understand why I can't," the professor whispered stubbornly.

"I want to hear it from you," Alice replied with equal stubbornness. She had her theories, and she was very sure that she was right, but it wasn't just about being right. The professor was talking; that's the first step in the right direction, but there had to be more.

"Eileen. Bloome," the professor said with cracking voice, fresh tears arising from the wells of his eyes. "They were gone on my watch."

"And now it's happened to Selicia and Bunny too," the professor added. "Everyone I ever loved is gone-"

"Not Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup," Alice quickly asserted, like a pilot trying to avert a tailspin.

"You don't understand," the professor moaned. It was only now that Alice noticed how parched he was, with his cracked lips and dry skin.

"You're right I don't," Alice said. "So help me understand."

"If I keep this up, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup will follow Eileen, Bloome, Selicia, and Bunny to the grave," the professor said as he stifled a sob. "I can't be their father anymore."

"Thomas, I can't believe I'm saying this… but you're being irrational," Alice said. "It doesn't work that way."

"Irrational?" Professor Utonium laughed bitterly. "No, I'm very rational. I wouldn't back a horse with odds like that."

"We've talked about this before. These are extraordinary times, and the Girls… they're extraordinary kids thrust into extraordinary circumstances," Alice tried to reason with him. The professor simply laughed it off.

"And so they need an extraordinary dad, not… not this wretched failure of a father," the professor said, smiling brokenly at her. "Do you think I should tell them?"

"Tell them what?" Alice asked with a concerned look on her face.

"That all this is just a lie, that they are just a bunch of lab-grown knockoffs endowed with superpowers by accident, that they never had parents and I had just been playing house to fill a void?" the professor said. "Or should I just… go? Leave and not come back?"

"Where are you going to go?"

"To Eileen and Bloome - to where they're resting, then to the beach she loved and…" the professor reminisced.

"And what?"

"I don't know, to join them and see them again," the professor said. This was it, Alice thought. If there was a sure sign that the professor was cracking, it was when he'd begun talking about the supernatural or the religious.

"And what about Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup?"

"Someone else will take care of them. Someone better."

"Thomas, there's no one better than you," Alice said, scooting over to take his hand. "You're all they have left. If you leave, the USDO will put some grunt in your place, and guess how that will go? That's if General Blackwater doesn't take them away first. Or even take them out…"

"You're not alone in this," she added. "I'm here with you every step of the way. You know, we can even-"

Alice stopped herself before she went any further, her heart thumping as if she had just hit a wall running. She could feel it in her neck, her wrists; her pulse was racing. Here was Thomas, sitting in the middle of the lab corridor, vulnerable. With Selicia out of the picture, he was in need of a woman's touch once again.

But it would be wrong, not to mention unprofessional. Professor Utonium was her patient, and at this rate, had become her patient once more. He was still grieving, and Selicia had only just died, presumably. A funeral was likely a day or two away.

"Even what?" the professor asked, at this point barely conscious.

"Nothing. I can help you with the Girls once in a while, but you have to stand up and be their father again because no one else is going to do it for you. They'll just exploit your children, and yes, they ARE your children," Alice said. The professor did not respond at first, but then he nodded his head.

"I'll be damned if I let anyone else touch them," the professor had finally come around. "Help me up."


	135. Chapter 128: Families

**Chapter 128: Families**

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**17 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1135.**

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The Powerpuff Hotline, formerly known as the USDO hotline, rang, its red clown nose shining red in sync with the buzzing. Blossom hovered over to it, still depressed at heart, but healing enough that she could still smile at the thought of being able to float ethereally again.

_Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!_ The clown phone insisted. How everyone knew to seek their help exactly when the Powerpuff Girls had regained enough of their powers to be effective, Blossom couldn't figure out, but it was good that things were returning back to normal. Bunny and Mommy might be gone, but Dad had actually reversed course and begun paying them some attention again. Blossom had feared at first that he might thirst or starve to death, but he had started coming up again, and drinking and eating with them.

"Hello?" Blossom said into the phone. "Who is this?"

"15 Jump Street. 11:50 am. Don't be late," came a voice with no name, no introductions at all. Whoever it was on the other side hung up immediately after delivering the message.

Whatever it was, Blossom had a bad feeling about it.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. 15 Jump Street.**

**17 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1156.**

Despite pushing as hard as they could, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup couldn't meet the timing given to them. However, they weren't stood up because of this; not too far away, there was a familiar black car, and a car door was flung open for them to enter.

Inside the familiar black car, they were met with a familiar face. Fedele Palladino. He was alone this time, as if unafraid of them as if he was in control.

The journey to the Lombardi mansion was mostly silent, at least until they were close to the end of it.

"Heard about Bunny's passing," Fedele said solemnly. Blossom made eye contact with him on the rearview mirror. He seemed sincere enough. There were no tears, but the way he looked seem to tell her a story of regret. "I'm sorry you have to suffer through that, I truly am."

"Wait a minute, how did you hear about Bunny?" Buttercup questioned the man mercilessly. She hadn't forgotten how harrowingly close she was to meeting death that day when she was put between an impossibly huge mob of crazed druggies and Duranium sniper fire from above, with most of her enhancements and powers gone.

"Through the TV, of course," Fedele said. Blossom had seen his face while he'd said this, but he had long looked away to concentrate on the road. "She's one-of-a-kind, that kid. Sad to see her go."

At the mansion, they went through the usual routine, walking through the massive mansion, enduring the gaze of the mobsters guarding the area and finally ending up at the door that would lead them to the Amoeba Boys. They were, again, asked to disarm and remove their armor, before undressing and slipping into their mob-approved black dresses.

They had been to the mansion for so many times that they were becoming familiar with the place, almost as if it was a second home, just like kindergarten, except they hadn't been to school for the entire week.

Blossom could recognize where they were going just by the door and corridor. It was the dining hall once again, and with her returning appetite, she welcomed it as it was lunchtime.

The door opened, and sure enough, Bossman, Slim, and Junior were sitting at the dining table, with Bossman at the head and his brothers on either side. As Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup hovered towards them with Fedele strolling confidently right behind them, Bossman smiled, giving them that paternal kind of look.

"Please, sit, sit," he waved a hand at the chairs next to Slim. "Make yourselves at home."

"Yeah, at home," Slim aped Bossman as he bent over his dish, slicing up his medium well-done beef steak.

"At home, indeed," Junior repeated his brother's words, adding his own spice to it. He had a bottle of pepper in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, he scattered some on his steak before returning it to the center of the table. He turned to Buttercup and flashed her a wicked smile before leaning back on his chair, waiting.

The Girls took their places. Even their chairs were color-coded so they knew exactly where to sit. It was all planned exceedingly well on the part of the Amoeba Boys. Before the Girls were beef but minced up to make chewing easier even if they didn't need the help. They began digging in. A waiter came by to pour them some wine, something they had been getting used to despite knowing that it was inappropriate for them to drink. Thankfully, the Girls' livers were too efficient for them to get drunk on regular wine.

"You know, we've all heard about Bunny's death," Bossman said in between slices of beef. "She's your sister, no?" Bossman had directed his question to Blossom - he always did. To him, it was a dialogue between leaders, between two exceptional figures.

"Yes, she is…" Blossom said. She closed her as she held back her tears, not wanting to ruin this gathering between the Powerpuff Girls and the Amoeba Boys. "She was… good to me."

"I'm sorry, I really am," Bossman growled. His apology sounded too aggressive, something that even the relatively naive Blossom could make out. She stared at him, wondering what was going on. "Which is why I'm going to tell you the truth about Bunny."

"What truth?" Blossom asked, confused. What other truth could there be, besides everything she knew?

Instead of answering Blossom immediately, Bossman sliced himself another piece of beef. He took his time, chugging it down before slicing off another piece.

"Well, you see, Blossom, I helped kill Bunny," Bossman said nonchalantly and calmly, but Blossom jumped off her seat all the same, wide-eyed. Both Bubbles and Buttercup had stopped what they were doing the moment they heard it, both wide-eyed with shock too.

The Lombardi don simply laughed at their reaction.

"Not in any big way, of course, so don't thank me and don't mention it," he said as if he was having a pleasant afternoon conversation about the furniture, or the weather, or cats. "I provided the drugs, put some addicts in the crowds, and of course, helped that poor sod, Paul Feig, plan the attack. So like I said, Girls, ain't nothing much."

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU-" Blossom exploded, but Bossman simply put up a hand to interrupt her, and somehow, he was able to control her that way, something that baffled even Blossom. Why should she even be listening to him any further after what he'd just confessed?

There was just something about Bossman that scared Blossom, something uncanny and hidden in the dark about him, how his smile often hid guns and knives.

"Before you do anything you might regret, here's a little present from me," Bossman said. He pulled something out of his jacket, slapped it on the table and pushed it towards Blossom. A photo of a very familiar scene.

With her heart pounding, her hands shaking and tears spilling in anger, Blossom picked up the photo and stared at it. She was even zooming her vision twice or thrice at the photo.

It was taken back when she was 'sealing' her friendship with Bossman after he'd helped calmed the city down and lessen the crimes happening on the street through his influence alone. The photo was snapped right when she kissed Bossman's mob ring. She was kneeling down in front of him, and so was Bossman, so that Blossom could reach it.

"What is this about!?" Blossom yelled at Bossman, madder, still, than she was curious.

"Have you forgotten? We're eh, what do you lassies call it? BFFs now, yeah," Bossman sneered at Blossom. "Don't you remember?"

"Haha, yeah, BFFs," Slim repeated Bossman's words, at a time when Blossom had the least patience for it. She clenched her fist as she stared at the photo.

"You work for us now, and if you try anything, I'll let all your friends and family know about our… relationship," the don threatened.

Blossom felt vulnerable the moment Bossman dropped the bombshell on her. She had always known that it was wrong to work with the Amoeba Boys since they were criminals. She knew she had good intentions, but what do other people know? With those good intentions, she had killed many for the Amoeba Boys. Criminals, sure, but people nonetheless, some of whom were likely good people despite their backgrounds. Dad had said so.

Dad would be disappointed if he found out. No, scratch that. Dad would be devastated, destroyed. Blossom even thought that the news would even kill her Dad, with the state he was in.

No, that's not going to happen, not on her watch.

Charging up a quick infrared beam, Blossom burned the photo. The beam was strong enough that it had penetrated the photo and scorched the table underneath. When the deed was once, Blossom looked back up at Bossman, not with triumph in her eyes, but with a mix of residual anger and fear, expecting - no - hoping for him to give her that defeated look.

Instead, Bossman's smile did not fade. It grew wider instead. He reached into his jacket again and pulled out a stack of photos this time, slapping them down on the table roughly before pushing them brusquely towards Blossom.

Blossom was shocked. Bubbles had started sobbing. Buttercup sat where she was, hardly fazed if only because she had nothing to lose even if she was outed as an accomplice of the Lombardi.

All those times when Bossman had photographs taken had been preparation for this moment. There was another copy of a photo of Blossom's 'initiation' into the Lombardi family, as well as pictures of them dining together and talking. Of Blossom drinking wine.

"There's more where that came from, hundreds, my friends told me, just waiting eagerly," Bossman said. "You know, in case anything happens to me. I'm sure everyone would love to know how close we were getting, Blossom, how good of a friend you are to me." He reached for a large, brick-like phone on the table. "You know what? Nevermind that, I'll just get my friends to spread the good news!"

Blossom couldn't believe her eyes, misted as they were from the shock of the revelation. She couldn't believe her eyes when she heard the dial tones of the phone beeping as Bossman began mashing buttons on his phone.

"Wait! Please!" Blossom caved in to the pressure. "Don't!"

"And why shouldn't he? Don't you want your friends and family to know how amazing your acquaintances are?" Junior jibed at Blossom, smiling mischievously at Blossom.

"My Dad-" Blossom blurted out before stopping herself. Bossman stood up, rounding the dining table before coming around behind her.

"What about your Dad?" Bossman whispered into Blossom's ear as he placed his hands on her deceptively fragile-looking shoulders.

"He- he's not well. He'll be disappointed and angry with us and I don't know what's going to happen to him!" Blossom cried, breaking down in tears as she was unable to hold them back any longer. What had she gotten herself into? "Please don't tell!"

"Should've thought about that, missy," Slim said absentmindedly as he smiled calmly whilst putting another piece of beef into his mouth as if he was watching a soap opera unfolding on TV.

"You work for us now," Bossman repeated himself, his hand suddenly grabbing Blossom by the lower jaw while the other arm wrapped itself around Blossom's chest. "Say it! You work for me now!"

Blossom struggled against Bossman, only to discover that he was stronger than she thought. The Amoeba Boys' names were ironic, always had been. The same size as any other mobsters though they were, there was something else going on underneath their jackets.

Bubbles shot up from her seat, but when Slim and Junior did the same, she was dissuaded from trying anything. Buttercup simply continued eating, enjoying the minced beef, as if content with the fact that they had become members of the mafia.

"I- I work-" Blossom struggled to speak, unable to help but feel helpless, again.

"Louder!" Bossman interrupted.

"FINE! I WORK FOR YOU!" Blossom screamed, letting it all out quickly as if vomiting the words out and getting it over with.

"Good," the don said before letting go of Blossom. "And don't you forget that." He snapped his fingers after that, and Fedele came walking towards him, holding a small pack of syringes filled with black liquid. He handed it over to Blossom, gesturing for her to take it when she didn't get the hint. Reluctantly, Blossom took it.

"What do you-" Blossom was about to ask when she was interrupted anyway, for no reason except that it made Bossman felt good.

"Your first assignment. Fedele will drop you off, and you'll deliver it to the cop debriefing you," he said. Bubbles, who could only gawk at it so far, didn't like it one bit. She had been addicted to His Secret 2.0 before, and it felt wrong for her to deliver the same drugs she was once been addicted to, drugs that might cause addictions in others.

"But it's wrong to use drugs! We shouldn't give it away!" Bubbles cried, appalled by what they were being made to do.

"You know, you're in these photos too…" Bossman threatened Bubbles in turn, picking a photo and tossing it at her. It was snapped during one of their lunchtime engagements. Bubbles gasped when she saw it. "What would your father think of you?"

"Why are you doing this!?" she cried, feeling trapped.

Bossman straightened up, crossing his arms with a shark-like smile.

"I'm showing you what it means to be the law in this town," Bossman said. "And in this town, the law works for me. No, I am the law!"

"You're not the law!" Blossom slammed her fists against the table as she glared hatefully at the head of the Lombardi crime family "The law wouldn't go around hurting people!" The moment Blossom said it, however, her faith in her own words, and the law dwindled with every second.

Bossman's smile did not let up, and that had more or less made material what was going through Blossom's mind. All throughout her short life, the law, and its agents had been hurting people indeed - and that included herself, Bubbles, and certainly Buttercup, and even the late Bunny and Mom.

"I made sure the windows stay in one piece! That the streets aren't overflowing with blood! I bring moderation to the basest of human darkness, made sure nothing - and no one - goes too far," Bossman boasted. "And that those who control their darkest desires are rewarded. That will include the three of you from now on. I'm here to show the three of you the good life, a life worth living. Besides, don't you remember, Blossom?"

"Remember what?" Blossom mewled, sick to the stomach, now that the fact that she had fallen under the thumb of a crime lord had sunk in.

"You're part of the family now…" Bossman said, putting his hands back on Blossom's shoulders. "Daughter."

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**17 MAR (Friday) 1989. 1948.**

Buttercup returned to the living room from the outside, shivering despite the towel wrapped around her neck. For hours since pulling 'the job' for Bossman, Buttercup had been fantasizing about killing and torturing people for hours, spending most of her mental adventures in the walk-in closet like some creature. She was sure that the Amoeba Boys would probably involve them in some kind of a hit, but Buttercup's need was immediate and remained unmet no matter how much she daydreamed about it.

When that became boring, she went out into the lawn after dinner to dig out the dead cat again. It hadn't rotted much, and the process of decomposition had only just begun due to the rapidly rising spring temperatures. She tried talking to it, only for it to be still and dead - as it should be - so she was content with examining the dead cat and witnessing the necrosis setting in to satisfy her morbid curiosity. By the end of it, she was smiling, if messy and covered in mud.

Professor Utonium, who had been sitting by the fireplace, noticed Buttercup when she came in. Like some tired machinery in need of oiling, he stood up, looming over Buttercup as she was coming closer - but not really approaching him. Instead, Buttercup was merely walking by him, completely ignoring his presence.

"Buttercup, come here for a second," the professor said. Buttercup paused for a second at the foot of the stairs leading up, as if deep in thought, or emotions. Eventually, however, she relented, kicked in the mind by something even she could not understand. Some kind of connection with Dad? Love? Or just muscle memory from an irrelevant time when Dad meant something to her?

She turned around, hovering up to Dad, but remembering quickly why she opted to walk. Getting disempowered by Anti-X twice in a short span of time had taken its toll, and she had yet to recover fully from it. Tired, she stood on the arm of Dad's single-seater couch.

"Look at you, mud all over your face and arms. What have you been doing?" the professor wiped some mud away with his hands lovingly, if sluggishly. Buttercup averted her gaze when the professor tried to look her in the eyes.

"Nothing you should care about," Buttercup mumbled at the professor, crossing her arms. The professor's tired smile turned into a frustrated frown.

"What is wrong with you?" he said. "You're still blaming me for your mother's death?"

"You shot her!" Buttercup screamed. "You killed her!"

"She was trying to kill you!" Dad yelled back. "I'm your father! I'm supposed to protect you!"

"Yeah, right," Buttercup snapped dismissively, crossing her arms and turning away from him.

"What do you mean by that?" the professor said, alarmed by what she said, the lack of clarity of it. Was Buttercup disagreeing with him or… disavowing him as her father? "Buttercup, what are you saying?"

Buttercup remained silent, purposefully averting her eyes and crossing her arms, sulking like the little girl she was.

"You think it was easy? Shooting your mother?" Professor Utonium cried. "Selicia and I... We were supposed to be married. Does happily-ever-after mean anything to you? Imagine having that taken away!"

"Hmph," Buttercup simply grunted dismissively. "Can I go now?"

But Buttercup couldn't go, for the professor had noticed the towel wrapped around her neck like a scarf.

"What's this?" he said, not that Buttercup cared, and by the time he ripped it off her neck, it was too late. The professor knew what the towel represented the moment he saw the logo. USDO security. It could only belong to one person. A person he'd loved, who he'd come to hate for how she tried to take everything away.

"Dad!" Buttercup screamed when she turned to look and saw the professor ripping the towel in two. "GIVE IT BACK!"

"You're still IDOLIZING HER despite EVERYTHING!?" Dad yelled madly, traumatic memories coming back to shred his mind apart in turn. "She TRIED to KILL your SISTERS!"

"I don't care!" Buttercup yelled back unthinkingly, just barely holding back from pummelling her own Dad. "Give it back!"

"Then you need to start caring, because this is the only family you'll ever have," the professor said, his voice strangled by both sadness and disappointment. Buttercup's admittance that she cared nothing for her sisters had done a number to him if his mind wasn't broken enough. "And it's shrinking, but Mom is someone you need to forget about!"

With that, the professor tossed the torn halves of the towel into the fireplace, along with a bucket full of photos and Selicia's personal effects. Buttercup dived for it, tossing herself into the fire, and the professor did not expect it.

"BUTTERCUP!"

Immune to fire, Buttercup was nonetheless not immune to the fire obscuring her vision, and the debris complicating the retrieval. She searched and she searched, even as her clothes burned. For a second, she thought she'd found it, but it turned out to be Mom's wedding veil. Before she could finish searching, the professor had reached in with his hands and pulled her out, leaving her crying on the floor. Wasting no time, the professor grabbed a nearby blanket to put out the fire engulfing Buttercup and spreading on the carpet below, and when it was done, he let go of the blanket as the pain had caught up with him.

His hands were still burning, despite the lack of fire. He examined them while gasping in pain as he tried to move his fingers. The skin was raw and red, but the fact that he could still feel pain was actually a good sign. First degree burns, completely reversible… unlike Bunny's death.

The professor's attention turned to Buttercup immediately after that.

She was still crying on the floor, her dress charred and smoking.

"Buttercup, are you alright?" the professor reached for her shoulder, only to be pushed away. Buttercup flew to the second floor like a bullet.

"I HATE YOU!" she screamed at the top of her lungs before disappearing, and the professor sank to the floor, sitting on it, tears welling in his eyes once more as he stared at the black spot where Buttercup was lying.

* * *

**The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.**

**17 MAR (Friday) 1989. 2149.**

Dad was supposed to tuck Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup into bed, but he hadn't even made it up to the room, at least, that was from Blossom and Bubbles' perspective. Buttercup was already fast asleep, caring little about being tucked in; she was already snoring and drooling in her sleep.

Blossom and Bubbles, however, were concerned. Dad had changed his ways quickly since the morning, being his old self once more, if a little tired and jaded. And depressed. With a dash of spacing out sometimes. Or looking at things that did not exist.

He should have been up in their room to tuck them in, read them a story, kiss them goodnight, and leave the rest to time. Despite their inexperience, Blossom and Bubbles knew that something was wrong, and in the back of their mind, they were afraid that their little criminal secret might have gotten loose.

They went back out of the room in their pajamas in search of Dad. They had searched the corridors and his room before going down to the first floor. It didn't take long for them to notice him as the kitchen lights were on.

Dad was on the floor, leaning against the fridge with a beer can forgotten in his hand. More beer cans were lying by his side.

Blossom and Bubbles flew up to him before landing by his side. He hadn't seen them. His eyes were closed. He was out cold, and judging by the cans on the ground, drunk.

"What do we do?" Bubbles asked as she checked Dad for his pulse and breathing rate. Slow, but steady, as expected from someone who was out cold.

"He's been taking care of us all this time…" Blossom said, kneeling down beside Dad. His hair hadn't been cut for months - a person in his position wouldn't have the time and inclination - and it was covering his right eye. Blossom swept the fringe of hair out of the way, grooming his hair briefly before kissing him in the forehead. "I think it's our turn to take care of him."

"Yeah, let's," Bubbles agreed. "Poor Dad, he must be feeling really sad and tired to just fall asleep in the kitchen like this."

They flew him up the stairs and into his room. After removing his lab coat and shoes, they put him in bed, covered him with his blanket and, reluctantly, left him in his room to sleep off the alcohol in his system.


End file.
